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Something was amiss on Tantalus V.
Mere hours ago, Dr. Van Gelder appeared as a stowaway aboard the Enterprise, violent and seeking asylum. McCoy had found Van Gelder’s crazed ramblings suspicious enough that Spock and the Captain were forced to beam down to the penal colony to investigate.
Upon arrival, Spock and Kirk expected to find a facility full of Van Gelders – inmates gone mad. Instead, to their surprise, they found the inmates were quite placid. Suspiciously so.
Van Gelder’s associate, Dr. Adams, skirted most of their questions as he guided them through the facility, seemingly giving them a sanitized version of the grand tour. He was especially cagey about a device Spock (evidently) spent a little too much time inspecting. Referring to it as a “neural neutralizer,” Adams then all but pushed them out of the “treatment room” where it was housed.
“We don’t expect to get much use out of it at all,” Adams said, shutting down further inquiry.
Later, while Adams was distracted talking to another doctor, Kirk turned to Spock and suggested that they spend the night planetside. “We might get a better sense of what’s going on here if we see what it’s like without a tour guide,” he said in a low voice. “What do you think?”
“Your idea is logical,” Spock replied, but he wasn’t so sure it was. If something unsavory was occurring, surely they wouldn’t learn about it during nighttime hours. While Spock could go without sleep for the night, Kirk could not, and there was no sense in putting them in a vulnerable position when they could just as easily spend the night in their own quarters on the ship.
However, he reasoned, they were unlikely to be targeted if Spock was awake to keep watch. Furthermore, Kirk was correct that it could be advantageous to explore the facility without Dr. Adams’ oversight. Spending the night wasn’t totally illogical.
Deep down, though, Spock knew that agreeing with the Captain’s proposal without even raising these concerns was not a decision made from logic. It was born of the unsettling amalgam of emotions he felt around and about Kirk. Emotions that caused him great shame.
There was a part of Spock thrilled to spend this additional time with him, in joint quarters, alone together in a way they never were on the Enterprise. Worse, there was an unfounded possessiveness in him, relieved by the idea of keeping an eye on his captain. He rationalized that it was quite literally his job to keep the Captain safe, and that job was easier to do when Kirk was nearby.
It was sound enough logic to get him through the day, anyway.
Eventually, their guided tour came to an end and they were shown to their quarters. Spock had hardly finished surveying his room when Kirk gently knocked against the threshold separating their sleeping spaces.
Spock looked up to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed and look pensive, like a character in the Terran film noirs his mother showed him as a child.
“Captain,” he said by way of greeting, standing in parade rest.
“What did you think of the inmates we saw here this afternoon, Mr. Spock?”
Spock quirked an eyebrow. “I found them highly unusual. One would expect a fraction of the prisoners to demonstrate a thread of rebelliousness. Yet every inmate with whom we interacted today appeared completely docile.”
“Yes,” Kirk agreed. “I keep coming back to the treatment room, that device Adams was being dodgy about. You think it’s related?”
“A likely possibility,” Spock said. “Whether it is or isn’t, Dr. Adams’ avoidance of our questions certainly raises alarm.”
Kirk nodded, pushing off the threshold. “I think I’d like to see that room again. Shall we?”
They weren’t bothered – or paid any mind at all, really – as they left their guest quarters and made their way to the treatment room. It was unoccupied when they arrived.
Looking around, there wasn’t much to be learned from the space itself. The control panel was barebones. They saw nothing that immediately suggested the device may have led to the odd behavior of the prisoners.
Kirk approached the controls, then looked back at Spock.
“It seems if we’re going to learn anything about this device, we’ll have to see it for ourselves.” Kirk walked towards the chair, studying the inactive beam source above it. “Care to run this experiment with a willing test subject, Mr. Spock?”
Spock hesitated. It seemed likely that this instrument was related to the prisoners’ affect. If true, understanding how it functioned was imperative. However, the Captain and his mind were too important an asset to risk.
It was Spock’s duty as his first officer to protect him. The necessity to keep Kirk safe was, of course, not at all influenced by any misplaced emotion.
“It’s inadvisable for you to be the proverbial guinea pig, Captain,” Spock said coolly. “However, I do agree that learning about the device’s operation is essential. Therefore, I posit that I be the one to place myself under the beam.”
Kirk dismissed this immediately. “No, I’m not risking that.”
“I must insist you reconsider. As Captain, you are indispensable to both the Enterprise and Starfleet - ”
“As are you,” Kirk said, looking at him pointedly.
The Captain was the most indispensable person on the ship, but Spock knew better than to argue the point. “The device will likely have a lesser impact on my mind, as a Vulcan.”
“Then you wouldn’t be a very representative test subject, would you?” Kirk’s tone was blithely light, almost teasing, as he sat in the chair. “I need you at the controls. Besides, I’d hate to be the one responsible for damaging my first officer’s impressive mind.”
Spock suppressed the pride that arose from the praise, ceding the debate. Warily, he approached the control panel. “Very well. Are you ready, Captain?”
“Mm-hmm.”
His hand on the dial, he announced through the microphone, “I will increase to a mild intensity for two seconds.”
Kirk was perfectly still while the beam was on, his face neutral. Spock turned it off again.
“Nothing happened,” Kirk said.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “The device was on, sir. You were non-reactive.”
“I see. Do it again – try a harmless suggestion.”
Turning the dial once more, Spock spoke the first suggestion that came to mind. “You would like to play chess together tonight.”
As soon as the words were out, Spock felt a wave of self-consciousness he identified as embarrassment. Of all the “harmless suggestions” he could’ve made, why did he choose one that would influence his captain to spend even more time with him?
When Spock stopped the beam, Kirk huffed a laugh and looked over at him. “You know, when we’re done here, we should see if this place has a chessboard we can borrow for the night.”
Spock felt a twinge of shame. “Fascinating,” he said neutrally. “My suggestion was that you might like to play chess tonight.”
Kirk didn’t seem altogether surprised, merely amused. “Remarkably effective for a device Dr. Adams was going to abandon.”
“Indeed.”
Kirk faced back upwards towards the beam source. “Let’s try one more time. Make an unusual suggestion, something we can both be sure of.”
Spock dutifully turned the beam back up to mild intensity, determined to choose a less personal suggestion this time. But before he could speak a word, he felt a poke in his back.
He turned his head to find an inmate nudging his back with a phaser. Dr. Adams stood in the doorway with a false smile.
“Hands off. Step away.”
Spock lifted his hand from the dial. For a moment, he considered disobeying, turning it off to give Kirk a chance to escape before Spock became incapacitated by phaser fire. It would only buy Kirk seconds, and then the Captain would be alone and at the mercy of a clearly disturbed Dr. Adams.
Wordlessly, he stepped back, before being pulled away forcefully by several armed inmates. Dr. Adams shoved past him on his way to the controls.
Adams shot a glance back at Spock, ensuring he had his attention before cranking up the beam intensity.
“One movement, Vulcan, and I kill him.”
Spock didn’t move. It was too risky. At this juncture, he had no evidence as to whether this machine could indeed kill Kirk at maximum intensity. He was surrounded by armed inmates with no obvious physical recourse. Spock was forced to play whatever game Adams had in mind.
Adams got on the microphone. “Now, Captain Kirk is going to have a complete demonstration. I want there to be no doubts whatsoever in his mind.”
He looked thoughtfully at Spock, then smiled. He turned back to the microphone.
“You're madly in love with Mr. Spock, Captain.”
Spock inhaled sharply.
No.
Adams went on. “You'd lie, cheat, steal for him, sacrifice your career, your reputation.”
Illogically, Spock had the thought This can’t be happening.
“The pain. Do you feel it, Captain? You must have him, or the pain grows worse. The pain, the longing for him.”
From the chair, Kirk murmured wonderingly, “Spock.”
I am in control of my emotions. Kirk could fight this. He had to.
Adams continued, “For years you’ve loved him, Captain. For years.”
Kirk was still gazing up at the beam. “For years, I’ve loved you.”
Spock’s chest constricted. To hear those words from his captain – sentiments Spock could hardly admit to fantasizing about – but twisted and forced out of Kirk’s mouth by this despot of a doctor…it made the ground feel unsteady under his feet.
Adams wasn’t done. “You must continue to remember that, Captain. And now, he’s gone.”
He turned the dial to its second-highest setting. Kirk began writhing, clearly in immense pain.
“Spock! Spock, don’t go!” he cried. “I need you, Spock!”
As if the inmate behind Spock knew that he would physically react to hearing his captain plead for him, he felt a phaser poke his back again threateningly.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” the inmate drawled, taking the moment to grab Spock’s phaser and communicator.
“Now, Captain,” Adams said, “you must take your phaser and drop it on the floor.”
Kirk slowly drew his phaser from his belt. It looked like he was physically fighting against every movement, his motions jerky until he finally released the phaser. It fell to the floor with a thunk.
“Very good. And now your communicator.”
Removing his communicator from his belt with even more resistance, Kirk unexpectedly brought it towards his face. Then he opened it.
“Kirk…to Enterprise,” he got out through clenched teeth.
Spock felt a swell of admiration for his captain. Of course Kirk’s faculties were still present even in the face of such pain. Of course his strength of spirit would fight this violent hypnosis tooth and nail.
Then Adams turned up the dial once more. With one last bid to the ship followed by an anguished cry, Kirk fainted on the chamber floor.
A flurry of inmates unceremoniously dragged them both to their quarters.
—
Spock sat in an armchair a foot from the Captain’s bed. His control required refortifying, but this was not an appropriate time for meditation. He steepled his fingers under his chin as he stared at Kirk’s unconscious supine form, trying to sort the myriad emotions the last hour had brought him. He decided to sort the most burdensome ones first.
Spock had long been aware that his affection for his captain had surpassed anything that could be considered “friendly,” let alone professional, even by Human standards.
There was risk in remaining on the Enterprise as Kirk’s first officer, constantly in the presence of the very person who aroused these emotions, but there was no logical alternative.
Requesting a transfer would inconvenience an inordinate number of people. There were long-term experiments in the labs he had a scientific duty to oversee. He wanted to maintain his professional integrity. Leaving in the middle of the five-year mission would raise questions Spock would have to answer for throughout his entire career in Starfleet. Transferring simply wasn’t logical.
His next step had been to quietly distance himself from his friendship with Kirk in a way that wouldn’t raise questions or hurt his captain’s feelings.
It became clear quite quickly that no such method existed. After Spock had acknowledged and accepted the reality of his desire, he spent six days doing little else besides meditating and attending his required shifts. He declined his regular engagements with Kirk – meals in the mess, games of chess – in a desperate bid to purge himself of the inappropriate feelings he had for his captain. Proximity merely intensified these feelings. It stood to reason that minimizing the amount of time he spent around the object of his affections might minimize those feelings as well. This caused Spock a great deal of pain, but distance was the price he had to pay to maintain professionalism with his commanding officer.
Kirk had not taken well to this. The ensuing conversation still drifted through his mind during his meditations, all these months later.
Spock’s door signaled an unexpected request for entry. While he wasn’t one to trust in the Human concept of intuition, the prickle of anxiety at the back of his mind told him exactly who was at the door.
“Mr. Spock, I believe you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Captain,” Spock said politely, feigning ignorance. “We’ve consistently shared alpha shifts on the bridge, and we’ve conversed during those shifts an average of - ”
“That’s not what I mean,” Kirk cut him off, a sharp edge to his voice, “and I think you know that.”
The appraising look he gave Spock brought that pinprick of anxiety to the foreground. Kirk was right, of course, but to admit to avoiding him would raise questions that Spock wouldn’t be able to answer.
“Am I understanding correctly that you believe my absence from our typical social activities is evidence that I am avoiding you?”
“Yes, Spock,” Kirk said in that falsely patient tone he adopted solely for times he knew Spock was being deliberately obtuse. It was a tone that Spock normally found endearing, a part of their shared language, but today it only brought him shame. “I’ve missed our chess games, yes, and sharing meals together. I’ve noticed your absence.” His voice became softer as he took a step closer to Spock, his eyes concerned. “Have I done something to upset you?”
“Negative, Captain.” He searched for a partial truth he could provide that would assuage Kirk’s concerns, and eventually said, “I have simply found myself requiring more meditation as of late. It is not uncommon for Vulcans to go through periods which require more frequent and longer meditation.”
Kirk’s posture appeared to relax slightly. Spock was so wary of this conversation, he hadn’t even noticed how tense the Captain had been when he entered.
“I see. Are you alright, then? Is there anything in particular you’re meditating about?”
There it was - the question Spock had been expecting, preparing for, yet still dreaded.
“As is the primary purpose of meditation for Vulcans, I am processing the emotions that arise as a product of my current environment.” It was an answer that didn’t really answer anything, but would likely end this line of questioning. He knew Kirk was unlikely to conclude that the emotions in question were, in fact, Spock’s own.
He was rewarded with a dazzling grin – one that sent a flutter of something through his nervous system. “All our pesky Human emotions getting under your skin?”
Spock stiffened slightly. Not just Human emotions, he thought.
Without waiting for an answer, Kirk’s smile turned softer, warmer. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be interrupting. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned towards the door.
“Jim,” Spock said abruptly before the other man could depart. “I wish you to know that your emotions are not the ones…disturbing me.”
Kirk chuckled, and it warmed the entire room.
“I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Spock. If you can spare any time in the next few days to play chess with this illogical Human, please stop by. Guess I’m just trying to say - I miss you.” Jim fixed him with a loaded gaze and that soft smile before the door swished shut behind him, leaving Spock alone with even more emotions than before.
The only option remaining to him was to tightly confine the feelings he had for his captain without significantly altering their relationship. Over time, he became accustomed to processing and packing away the sheer want that seized him whenever they spent time together. And that had, for many months, been sufficient.
It still was sufficient, Spock reminded himself. Today was not a setback so much as…a minor snafu. Nothing had changed. Kirk would apologize when he awoke in his right mind. Spock would compartmentalize the memories of him falsely stating his affections and any misplaced emotions it had brought up in him. All was well.
But was it? He had no evidence-based idea as to what Kirk’s mental state would be like once he awoke. And he was still alarmed by his suggestion to Kirk that they play chess together this evening. That had been ethically dubious at best. Why had he felt the need to suggest something so…personal? Like he needed to trick the Captain into spending even more time together than they already did? Clearly, his feelings for Kirk were not as controlled as he thought.
He recalled Adams’ words. Madly in love. Not long ago, Spock would have found that phrase to be absurdly Human. Now, it seemed an apt way to describe his own predicament.
After some time, he became aware of movement from the bed.
“Spock,” murmured Kirk, stirring.
As Spock approached the bed, Kirk’s eyes opened and locked onto his. For a moment, his expression was soft, fond.
Then in a blink, it transformed into something intense. Desperate.
“Spock,” Kirk purred in a tone Spock had heard him use before, but never directed towards him. He grasped Spock’s upper arm. “I must have you.”
Spock wrenched his arm out of Kirk’s grip and stepped away from the bed, horrified. “Captain,” he said as neutrally as possible, “Dr. Adams planted that in your mind. You were under the influence of his neural neutralizer.”
Kirk swung his legs to the ground and stood, advancing even as Spock kept stepping back.
“No,” Kirk said lowly as he backed Spock into the wall. Spock felt his captain’s body pressed against his, chest to chest, his face mere inches away. His hands slid to the back of Spock’s head, fingers threading through his hair. “I’ve loved you for years, Spock.”
Then Jim kissed him.
On several shameful occasions, Spock had allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to kiss Jim in the Human way. Whatever he had envisioned, the reality was infinitely more exhilarating and devastating in equal measure. Jim’s lips were soft and warm, and Spock felt crackles of psionic energy everywhere they touched. Emotions flooded the space around them. Desire, arousal, affection, love -
But this isn’t Jim, Spock reminded himself, feeling something suspiciously close to how Humans described heartbreak. These aren’t Jim’s true emotions.
Spock’s reactions were delayed, neurons misfiring from shock. At least, that was how he’d justify not pushing Jim away the second their lips made contact.
Instead, he gasped, and Jim took that opportunity to slide his tongue past Spock’s lips. He pressed harder against Spock’s body and his hands traveled from the back of Spock’s head down to his hips. He explored Spock’s mouth with his tongue, kissing the breath out of him. Spock choked down a groan.
This farce had gone on too long already, Spock knew. Jim was not in his right mind and Spock was violating him every second he let this continue. But the shameful, undisciplined part of his psyche where his affection for Jim resided was keenly aware that this would be the only time he would ever feel Jim’s lips, his tongue, his exquisite body pressed against him. He desperately committed all sensory input to memory.
“Oh, Spock, yes,” Jim moaned into his mouth, one hand slipping further down.
All at once, Spock’s mind returned to him. He gripped Kirk’s shoulders and shoved him away with a little too much force.
“Captain,” Spock said, his voice like gravel in his throat. “You must – you must remember the neural neutralizer. Your mind is being controlled.”
Kirk was already crowding him again, and he kept his captain at arm’s length, quite literally, with an outstretched hand on his chest.
“Jim,” Spock said severely, raising his voice to get through to him, trying to impart urgency through his touch.
After several moments, Kirk shifted. His expression transformed from one of passion to one of startled clarity. He took a step back from Spock’s hand, Spock’s arm falling back to his side.
“Yes,” Kirk said quietly. Then, with more purpose, “Yes, the neural neutralizer. I remember.”
They held each other’s gaze a moment longer as Kirk appeared to blink away the fog. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, a loaded silence between them. Then his eyes shifted to the wall behind Spock.
“The duct.” Kirk went to the air conditioning duct and pried the cover off the wall. “It has to connect with other ducts and tunnels. It might lead to the power supply.”
Filing away a mixture of relief and creeping despair, Spock turned to the matter at hand: getting in touch with the Enterprise, the arrest of Dr. Adams, and the destruction of the device that had disturbed Spock almost as much as it had his captain.
—
Spock had little trouble crawling through the ducts and locating the main power supply. With a few button presses, he shut down the colony’s forcefield and killed the neural neutralizer’s power. He rendezvoused with Kirk back in the treatment room, where the Captain had been subjected to another session with the device and came out unharmed. Seemingly.
They held Adams until Scotty beamed down a security team to apprehend him. Scotty himself and a few engineers then beamed down to dismantle the device. Soon enough, the Enterprise was on her way once more.
As far as unexpected side missions, this one had actually gone relatively smoothly. The team’s debrief was borderline routine. Kirk left out any mention of their ill-advised trial of the device, as well as Adams’ “hands-on demonstration.” While Spock normally wouldn’t approve of such egregious omissions on official logs, in this instance he found he had no interest in objecting.
The Captain wasn’t the type to delay a difficult conversation, but Spock was still surprised at how quickly Kirk arrived at his door after the debrief.
Upon entering, he immediately started talking, standing in the middle of the room.
“I’m so sorry, Spock,” Kirk said, running a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture of nervousness. “The neural neutralizer - it seemed to have…lowered my inhibitions.” He looked away and began pacing Spock’s quarters. “That isn’t the way I ever imagined that happening.” He gripped the unoccupied desk chair, still not looking at a very flummoxed Spock. “I hope you can forgive the violation, and that we can forget this happened. I’d rather leave it out of the logs, but I completely understand if you wish to report it to Starfleet Command - ”
“Captain.” Spock knew it was poor form to interrupt his commanding officer mid-sentence, but the monologue had taken a most illogical detour. “You are operating under a misunderstanding of the neural neutralizer’s mechanism. A lowering of inhibitions implies that those thoughts were already present somewhere in your mind. This is categorically incorrect. Dr. Adams placed those thoughts in your mind, and the impetus to act on those thoughts was forced upon you. Your apology is unnecessary.”
If anything, Spock declined to add, I should be the one to apologize for allowing it.
Instead of relief, or any emotion Spock might have expected to see on his captain’s countenance, Kirk’s eyes sharpened. A pink flush settled on his face. Embarrassment?
When Kirk spoke again, he sounded calm, almost calculating – a complete tonal shift. “Ah, right. To be completely honest, I don’t have a strong recollection of anything that happened while that beam was on.” He looked at Spock carefully. “What exactly did Dr. Adams say?”
Spock took one collecting breath before blandly recounting the incident in the treatment room. “That you were madly in love with me. Willing to lie, cheat, steal, sacrifice your career and reputation for me.”
Kirk’s face was inscrutable to him, an impressive display of impassiveness for a Human. “Anything else?”
His heart accelerated in his side as he was forced to relay it all over again. “That if you didn’t have me, the pain and longing for me would grow worse. That,” he hesitated for only a fraction of a second, “you’d loved me for years.”
Kirk nodded almost absentmindedly. Against Spock’s expectations, this information didn’t seem to perturb him in the least. If anything, he appeared lost in thought.
“Therefore, Captain,” Spock continued, affecting full bravado, “it is illogical to characterize this incident as a lowering of inhibitions. These thoughts did not originate within you.”
Kirk’s eyes shifted back to Spock’s. His expression was faintly amused, undeniably fond. A small smile settled onto his face.
“Really, Spock?” he said challengingly.
Spock stared. “Really what, sir?”
“Do you really believe I wouldn’t lie, cheat, and steal for you? That I wouldn’t throw my career away for you?”
This gave Spock pause. Of course, they both had made highly questionable decisions to protect and save each other in the line of duty. Perhaps even beyond the line of duty. Kirk had once referred to them as brothers-in-arms. Diverting the ship to Vulcan during his pon farr, for example, was already far and beyond what would be expected of his captain – and, indeed, on its own could have cost Kirk’s entire career.
When Spock replied, it was with no less conviction. “I believe Dr. Adams knew how to capitalize on our existing dynamic. It stands to reason that there would be a kernel of truth in his suggestions.”
Kirk squinted slightly. “‘A kernel of truth,’” he repeated, deadpan.
Spock quirked an eyebrow. “A Terran idiom, I believe,” he quipped.
The expected look of amusement did not come.
Instead, Kirk moved slowly to stand in front of him. “Yes, Spock,” he said. “That was certainly one kernel of truth.”
Spock’s heart pounded. This conversation hadn’t taken the expected route. This was unfamiliar territory.
Kirk stared into his eyes, a boyish shyness in them contrasting his trademark confident smile. “I appreciate the out you’re allowing me. However, I appreciate honesty more.” He took a deep breath. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to admit that there were several kernels of truth in what Adams said, I’m afraid.”
Spock blinked, mentally cycling through Adams’ statements once more. You’re madly in love with Spock. You must have him, or the longing for him gets worse. For years, you’ve loved him.
Madly in love.
“I do not understand,” Spock said flatly.
Kirk huffed a small, slightly uncomfortable laugh. “Come on, Spock. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you.” He raised a hand to grasp Spock’s shoulder, a familiar gesture of camaraderie that now felt entirely different. The warmth of it irradiated his skin through his science blues. “I can handle rejection. I’ll take it like a man.”
Spock opened his mouth to speak when the thought hit him: perhaps the man in front of him was not, in fact, the Captain he knew. Perhaps something had happened on Tantalus V that changed Kirk’s personality. Perhaps the machine permanently implanted Adams’ suggestions into his head.
The thought made Spock ache.
“Captain, I would urge you to report to Sickbay. I believe you’re experiencing lingering effects from the neural neutralizer.”
That made Kirk laugh, loud, the same radiant laugh that Spock treasured in all their private interactions - a laugh that lit Spock up from the inside. The ache inside him grew stronger as Kirk’s hand fell off his shoulder.
“Spock.” Jim’s voice was low, intimate. “Is it so impossible to believe that I’m madly in love with you?”
Time might have stopped completely. Spock stood stock-still. Jim waited, smiling warmly, still looking into Spock’s eyes.
How long had Spock (ashamedly) desired to hear such words from Jim? Only to finally hear them come out as lies implanted by a mind-controlling criminal? He felt a tightening in his stomach he identified as dread.
“Captain,” Spock started, trying for professional, his wavering voice devoid of the bravado he feigned earlier. His control was so battered that he didn’t even have it in him to feel shame at the obvious emotion in his voice. “These are not your thoughts. Dr. Adams is responsible for these…feelings.”
It was impossible to miss the hurt that flashed in his captain’s eyes. Knowing he was hurting Jim caused him something like nausea.
Naturally, being Jim, he remained stubbornly convinced.
“I’m guessing this isn’t your way of letting me down easy,” he said with clearly forced lightness, “or shutting me up. Do you really not believe me?”
When Spock didn’t respond, Jim continued, impassioned. “What would it take? Do you want to know what I thought of you at first sight? Or the moment I knew you owned my heart? The thoughts of you that haunt me when I’m alone at night?”
“Jim,” Spock said desperately, not even trying to keep out the entreating tone. He knew the concept of a malicious universe was illogical, yet it felt at that moment like the very fabric of spacetime was laughing at him, playing the cruelest practical joke imaginable.
Jim sighed. “Look, our friendship is the most important thing to me, Spock. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you don’t feel the same way.”
Spock was barely holding it together, speaking before thinking. “That’s not – ”
Jim gesticulated to stop him. “Maybe it was a mistake to tell you, but I…I just wanted you to know the truth. We don’t need to beat it to death, but I do need to know that you believe me. I don’t want to leave it this way.”
Spock refused to let anything akin to hope or want arise in him. With every ounce of his control, he said evenly, “I don’t doubt that you believe you feel these things. The fact still stands that this is a result of the mental reprogramming to which you were subjected, and therefore, any further conversation is moot. I implore you to visit Doctor McCoy in Sickbay for examination.”
This time, there was no hurt on Kirk’s face. In its place was the sort of conviction Spock had seen in the field too many times to count.
“If I visit Bones and he gives me the all-clear, would that satisfy you?”
No, Spock thought. He’d never be satisfied with the outcome of this cursed excursion to Tantalus V. The damage this day caused him would take months of meditation to process. His emotional control hadn’t been so tested since he was a child among his Vulcan classmate bullies. Spock would prefer that torture to ever again hearing false declarations of love from the subject of his deepest, most shameful desires.
Swallowing, he said, “If Doctor McCoy ascertains that there are no after-effects from the neural neutralizer, we may – revisit this conversation, if you wish.”
Of course, he knew full well that such a rehash would not occur. When these effects finally wore off, Kirk would be deeply embarrassed. Any future conversation about this would surely follow along the lines of “I’m so sorry, Spock” with Spock reminding his captain that there was no transgression, no apology necessary, and that Spock had no feelings about these events whatsoever. Just how this entire conversation should have transpired at the outset.
Kirk, however, seemed satisfied enough by the request.
“Very well.” Kirk walked confidently to the door, opening it to the corridor. “I’ll pay a visit to Sickbay.”
He fixed Spock with a small smile, his figure eclipsed as the door closed behind him.
—
Spock had settled into a shallow, uneasy meditation when his computer chirped.
“Spock here.”
“Well, if it isn’t Jim’s knight in shining armor,” drawled Dr. McCoy.
He fought down the typical irritation that arose at the doctor’s teasing. “Have you assessed the Captain?” he asked a little too sharply.
“Sure have,” McCoy said cheerily, ignoring his clipped tone. “His noggin’s clean as a whistle. No signs of artificial neural activity or implanted memories.”
Spock stood in silence momentarily, absorbing this information. No signs…
“Still there, Spock?”
“Yes, Doctor. I was merely trying to reconcile your results with the Captain’s behavior prior to his visit to Sickbay.”
A chuckle. “I don’t know what that demented prison warden had him doing down there, but Jim’s a free man now. Matter of fact, looking at the other inmates, it looks like destroying the neural neutralizer wiped out all of Adams’ little ‘suggestions’ from everyone’s heads. They’re all basically back to normal, for better or worse.”
Back to…normal?
“I see,” Spock said stiffly, although he wasn’t sure he did.
“Don’t sound too excited there.” He could almost hear the eye roll that surely accompanied this statement. “Anyway, Jim’s on his way to your quarters, should be there any minute now. He wanted me to tell you the good news myself.”
Spock’s heart raced at the prospect of being face to face with Kirk once more. “Revisiting” their conversation.
“Spock,” McCoy started in a tone he knew meant the doctor was about to say something maudlin. “The effect wore off before the two of you returned to the Enterprise. Jim’s been totally himself since you beamed up. You understand?”
Spock bristled at the doctor’s condescension for a moment before the implications sank in.
What did Jim tell McCoy? How much does he know?
Against his will, a thread of hope began weaving its way through him, and he violently shut it down.
“You there, Spock?” McCoy sounded smug, like he knew exactly what effect this information had on him.
“Affirmative, Doctor. Thank you for the update. Spock out.”
He ended the call abruptly and faced his empty room, mind folding and layering evidence like pieces of an impossible puzzle.
Logically, McCoy had no reason to lie about the Captain’s health. He wouldn’t joke about something like this where Jim was involved. It was far more likely that the doctor had missed something, or that the tools available to him were inadequate for detecting aftereffects of this sort of telepathic control.
It wasn’t in Spock’s nature to so strongly doubt evidence, even if it was from the overly emotional Dr. McCoy. Still, the odds were much higher that something had been missed during examination than the alternative: that Kirk genuinely harbored any sort of…romantic inclination towards him.
As for the flutter of hope rising in the periphery of his consciousness, he steadfastly ignored it.
True to the doctor’s word, it was hardly a moment later that the door chimed. Spock stood straighter, hands behind his back, mentally preparing for whatever was about to ensue.
His own voice sounded alien to himself when he called out, “Enter.”
Kirk walked in with a vibrant smile that threatened to knock Spock out. He stopped in the middle of the room, arms spread.
“Well?” said Kirk expectantly. “Clean bill of health.” He lowered his arms and took a step closer to Spock. His voice softened. “Do you believe me now?”
Spock took a deep, steadying breath before responding. “I am glad to hear Doctor McCoy did not find symptoms of lingering illness. However, upon further reflection, I believe the instruments at the doctor’s disposal do not have adequate ability to detect the aftereffects of implanted thoughts or memories - ”
The Captain held up a hand. Spock dutifully stopped mid-sentence. He would’ve had to be blind to miss the wounded look on Jim’s face. That he was in any part responsible felt like a spear to the stomach.
“I get it, Spock. But I’ve put my cards on the table, and I want you to truly look at my hand. Even if it’s a losing one.”
He took a step closer to Spock, now less than a foot away. “Meld with me.”
However Spock thought this conversation might go, he certainly wasn’t expecting Jim to offer his mind. Against his will, his breath caught.
Previous melds with Jim felt – pleasant. Too pleasant. Dangerously pleasant. Jim’s mind was all golden light and warmth, open and dynamic and dazzling. Unlike most Humans, he didn’t shy from the meld or fear Spock seeing his thoughts. In fact, he welcomed him into his mind like an honored guest. Those previous melds had been purposeful, not exploratory, so Spock ensured his ethics were intact by keeping them brief, no longer than necessary to retrieve whatever information was needed at the time. But the feeling of it always lingered.
Melds with Jim were dangerous because their minds were highly compatible. It was the subject of many of Spock’s meditations: the knowledge that he and Jim could have the type of bond spoken of only in legend, and the reality that that bond could never come to fruition.
“That is, unless you don’t want to believe me,” Jim continued after Spock was quiet a little too long. “If you want, I can turn around and walk out that door and I promise I’ll never bring this up again. But – I feel sick at the idea that you think my confession was just a result of mind control.” Jim inched closer, eyes roving over his face. Spock’s heart rate accelerated.
Jim’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. “So, if you’re curious, then…please.”
And Spock was nothing if not curious. Jim always knew how to appeal to his scientific mind.
Wordlessly, he raised his hand to Jim’s psi points and slid inside.
The brilliant warmth he associated with Jim’s mind immediately enveloped him. The essence of Jim was all around him, surrounding him completely. Spock was formless, taking an indulgent second to bask in the very Human aliveness of his friend. Still, he kept the meld at a surface level, refusing to pry no matter how the depths of Jim’s mind beckoned to him.
Spock, Jim sighed, as if in relief.
Then he showed Spock everything.
For a psi-null, Jim demonstrated remarkable capability to project memories and emotions through the meld. In fact, it was overwhelming.
Images of Spock at parade rest in the Captain’s quarters. Spock, eyebrow raised in amusement in response to a joke long forgotten. Spock across a desk, deep in thought, fingers steepled under his chin. Spock over a chessboard, hand posed to take one of Jim’s pieces. Spock’s wide smile upon finding Jim alive after the koon-ut-kal-if-fee. Spock, tricorder in hand, on some Class M planet talking at length about the flora he found fascinating.
And – there could be no doubt about it – a powerful, pulsing love underscoring all of it. The deluge of Jim’s affection stunned Spock like a phaser.
He thought of showing Jim his own memories, the desire he had kept tucked away for years. He wanted to let his shields down completely and show Jim his hand. But he couldn’t get much thought in edgewise under the onslaught of images and feelings that Jim brought forth.
Spock bent over his console. The heat of Spock’s side brushing Jim’s in the turbolift. Spock pinning Jim to the mat while sparring. Spock behind the Captain’s chair on the bridge, a hand on Jim’s shoulder. Spock gripping Jim’s wrist as they ran from enemy strikes on a planet’s surface. Spock’s arms around Jim, holding him through tears after Sam’s death.
And the kiss they’d shared earlier today, the feeling of their bodies pressed together, an overwhelming feeling of rightness, of finally, the raw emotion unclouded by the effects of the neural neutralizer.
Spock removed his trembling hand from Jim’s face, leaving them staring at each other in the silence of Spock’s quarters.
“Was that convincing enough?” Jim asked light-heartedly, though Spock could hear the vulnerability in it. He looked shy, hardly like himself.
No words were forthcoming. “Jim, I…” Spock desperately tried to arrange his thoughts into sentences, but before he could manage one, Jim spoke again.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.” His voice was low, private. “When you said Adams implanted my feelings, I knew it’d be easier to just agree and let us drop it. But I didn’t want to lie to you. Not about this.” His eyes shone in a sad sort of adoration. “Those thoughts were always there, Spock. Adams’ suggestions were…an unfortunate catalyst. If anything, the neutralizer stripped me down to my basest desires.”
He gave a small, ironic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m terribly sorry for all of this – for forcing myself on you down there, for my silly Human feelings. I hope we can remain friends and move forward without this impacting our working relationship.”
“We cannot,” Spock said immediately.
Abject pain passed over Jim’s features, his eyes closing. “I understand,” he said quietly. “I know apologies aren’t enough. If you – ”
“Jim,” Spock interrupted. “You misunderstand. Naturally, it would be impossible to forget what has happened today. Nor would I want to.”
Jim’s eyes fixed on him uncertainly. Spock continued, “Moreover, your characterization of the events on Tantalus V are still inaccurate. You’ve stated that you ‘forced yourself on me.’ I believe this could only be the case if your advances were unwanted.”
Jim’s voice came out a breathy whisper. “Spock…”
It was Spock’s turn to close the distance between them. Inches apart, he raised a hand to Jim’s jawline, tilting his head up, looking into his captain’s eyes.
“I long for you, Jim,” Spock said lowly. “I have desired you for years.”
Spock held up his free hand in an ozh’esta and Jim met his fingers wordlessly, clearly having remembered this gesture. Psionic energy sparked at their fingertips, causing them both to shudder. Jim’s reaction made Spock wonder if he truly was psi-null, if he couldn’t feel Spock’s unchecked emotions through this graze of fingers.
“Is this real?” Jim whispered.
“I assure you this is very real.”
And then Spock kissed him the Human way.
If he had thought the kiss they shared on Tantalus V was exhilarating, this one was intoxicating. Jim wrapped his free hand around the back of Spock’s neck, as if Spock had any intention of moving away. Spock rubbed their fingers together sensually and reveled in the way Jim gasped. It was thrilling to assume control of their kiss as Jim had down on the colony.
They broke apart, resting their foreheads together. Jim laughed breathlessly. “I can’t believe you want me.”
Spock ran his hands over Jim’s broad chest. “Could you not feel it, in the meld? My affection for you?”
“I didn’t think – I just assumed I was seeing my own – oh, Spock. I wish I’d known. The time we’ve wasted…”
“It is of no consequence.” Spock cupped Jim’s face with both hands. “We are here now.”
Spock brought Jim’s lips to his again, more passionate, heat building between them. In the same way Jim had when they were planetside, Spock grabbed him by the hips and walked him backwards to press him into the wall. Jim broke apart to let his head fall back against the wall. Spock took this moment to memorize the look of him.
The Captain looked good like this, in Spock’s room.
Spock trailed his lips hotly along Jim’s jawline, down his neck, kissing the junction of his shoulder before gently biting it.
“Oh, god,” Jim moaned.
Spock pulled on the collar of Jim’s uniform shirt to expose his shoulder, covering this new skin with his lips. Now that he knew the depths of Jim’s desire for him – the want, the love – he felt like a wild le-matya, completely untethered.
“Spock,” Jim said with some urgency. “If this is going where I think it is – ” He cut himself off with a gasp when Spock started sucking a mark above his collarbone.
Then Spock moved his mouth over the shell of Jim’s ear. “Where is it that you think this is going, Jim?” he breathed.
“God – ” Jim’s eyes slipped shut and he visibly shuddered. “Spock…I want you. All of you.”
Spock hummed in response, kissing his ear before moving his lips back to Jim’s shoulder. He sunk his teeth into the skin, giving in to his desire to claim, even knowing the uniform would cover the mark.
“Wait, hold on – ”
Spock pulled back and shot Jim a quizzical look.
His captain was already flushed, his Human lips shiny and red as they moved around his words. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m madly in love with you.” Spock’s heart beat erratically, those words paradoxically more unbelievable now that he knew Jim’s true feelings. “This isn’t some…single-mission fling for me.” Jim’s expression was solemn and vulnerable. “If this is going where I think it’s going, then – ” His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “I need to know you’re mine.”
The earnestness of this request suffused Spock with affection. His response was autonomic, requiring no thought. “There is no one else for me, Jim. I am yours. I would be by your side for the rest of our lives, if you permit me.”
His forefingers drifted to Jim’s, dragging the pads of his fingers down the length of them.
The sound he made shot a tendril of arousal through Spock, and then their lips met again. He pressed himself against Jim, sliding one leg between both of his captain’s, against the evidence of his arousal. Jim broke the kiss to gasp, his hips hitching into Spock’s thigh.
“‘Permit you,’” Jim echoed disbelievingly, with a breathless laugh that warmed Spock in more ways than one. “God, I can’t believe this is happening.”
Spock moved back to Jim’s ear, breathing hotly onto it. “Perhaps you will allow me to convince you.”
He dropped to his knees.
Jim gasped. “Spock.”
His hands landed at Jim’s waistband. Glancing back up, he found that Jim’s eyes on him were liquid fire. The intensity of that look surprised him enough that his motions faltered.
“Don’t stop,” Jim whispered.
Spock couldn’t look away as he unzipped Jim’s pants. His hands went back to the waistband to pull them down slowly.
Jim’s underwear was tented obscenely, his breathing labored. Spock glanced back up at him, sharing a simmering look between them before taking the tip of his captain’s clothed cock into his mouth.
With a gasp and a thunk, Jim’s head hit the wall. “Oh, fuck.”
He hitched his hips forward. Spock wrapped his hands around his hips and shoved them back into the wall. Spock tasted his musk through his underwear, wetting the fabric with his tongue.
Jim groaned, and when he spoke, it was huskier than Spock had ever heard him. “In all the times I’ve pictured this, I never imagined you’d be so…sexual. Never thought you’d be the one to take control.” His hips strained against the tight grip Spock had on him. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added with a soft laugh.
Spock leaned back, catching his eye, finally reaching for the elastic of his underwear. “The want for you has turned me into this, Jim.” Slowly, he uncovered Jim’s impressively hard and flushed erection, now bouncing enticingly in front of him. “I crave you, in all ways.”
Without further preamble, Spock wrapped one hand around the base of Jim’s cock and closed his mouth over the tip.
Jim’s hand slapped against the wall. “Fuck, Spock - ”
He was clearly trying not to buck his hips, with little success. Spock indulgently dug his fingers into the globes of his ass before pressing his hips back into the wall once again.
He moved his mouth over Jim’s cock, swirling his tongue around the length of it. At the end of one such movement, Spock wrapped his tongue around the tip and sucked hard, making Jim shout.
Jim’s moans and the wet sounds of this obscene act were deliciously arousing to him. His taste was pleasantly salty, sweaty – utterly alien, Human.
Spock moved one hand from Jim’s hip to his cock. He pumped idly, removing his mouth to look up at him. “Earlier, you asked if I wanted to know what you thought of me at first sight.”
Jim huffed a laugh. “God, Spock, I thought you were gorgeous beyond belief.” He sighed as Spock’s mouth wrapped around him again. “I feared for my sanity the first few weeks on the bridge.” Spock moved a hand to cradle his testicles. “Shit. I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through the first month, let alone five years – fuck, Spock, how are you so good at this?”
The praise was as amusing as it was endearing. He slowly took more of Jim into his mouth, the tip slipping into his throat, Jim swearing profusely.
Then he removed his mouth to gaze up at his captain once more. “You also mentioned – I believe it was ‘the moment you knew I had your heart?’”
Jim let out a labored exhale as Spock took him back into his mouth. “Ah – it was – your court martial. I was devastated by your mutiny, but I was also – heartbroken, bitterly jealous that your loyalties lay with Pike instead of with me.”
Shame washed over Spock at the memory. Jim’s hurt had been clear as day. Despite Spock’s strong conviction to do right by his former captain, Jim’s palpable disappointment was the only thing that got him to second-guess the entire enterprise of bringing Pike to Talos Four.
The jealousy, however, was an interesting addition to the narrative. It made something prickle up Spock’s spine.
“I wanted you all to myself,” Jim admitted in a breathy whisper, then gasped as Spock reached the root of his cock, his nose in Jim’s pubic hair. “Yes, Spock, just like that!” Jim gripped his hair in both hands, not pushing, just tugging on the strands. “When I finally understood what you were doing, I was so relieved that I almost cried, right there in front of the brass. None of the feelings I had that day were within the realm of professionalism.” Jim broke off with a moan. “That was when I came to terms with how I feel about you, how much I love the man that you are, your good heart, your unwavering loyalty – god.”
Spock removed his mouth for the briefest of moments, just long enough to look up at his captain. “My loyalties lie with you alone.”
He quickly swallowed Jim back down to the base. Jim’s resulting moan sent a shiver through him, ratcheting up his own arousal. He moved both hands to clutch Jim’s rear, keeping him in place, swirling his tongue around the leaking head.
“Your mouth – so perfect, you feel so good. You’re so good to me. Fuck, Spock, I’m gonna come - ”
Spock tightened his grip on Jim, forcing him deeper into his throat. He cried out Spock’s name and finished with an aborted thrust of hips into his mouth. Spock wanted to see how his captain’s face transformed during orgasm, and when he looked up in that moment, the view did not disappoint. Jim’s eyes were twisted shut in pleasure, head tilted back and his mouth open as he made the most beautiful sounds in between reverent utterings of Spock’s name.
Spock crudely wiped his mouth on his uniform sleeve and stood. Immediately, Jim’s hands were on him, running from his chest to the waistband of his tented pants, deftly undoing the button and zipper.
“I need to see you,” Jim murmured with urgency, sliding his hand into Spock’s underwear. He wrapped his other hand around the back of Spock’s neck, bringing him in for a searing kiss. He wasted no time sliding his tongue against Spock’s, licking the taste of himself out of his mouth.
Spock broke off the kiss to shudder as Jim pulled him out of his clothes. It felt surreal, seeing his captain’s hand around his cock, that golden skin moving up and down over the verdant flesh of his erection. The subject of so many shameful fantasies, suddenly presented to him in vivid color.
He was already slick with his own fluids, which did not go unnoticed.
“Do Vulcans self-lubricate?” Jim asked in awe.
“Yes,” Spock said, voice hoarse. “To assist in penetration.”
Jim let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head faintly, continuing to run his fist over the length of him. “You have no idea how sexy you are.”
When Spock looked down, Jim’s hand was covered in his fluid.
Feeling himself unraveling, he closed his eyes. He felt Jim’s lips on his once more, less heat and more affection, fondness knocking at his mental shields. He could feel Jim’s excitement and joy through every place they touched.
A surge of need rising in him, he deepened their kiss, pressing Jim back into the wall. He swallowed Jim’s moans as he slid his hands to cradle the back of his head and threaded his fingers through his hair, a mirror of their positions when they had kissed planetside. He poured everything he felt for Jim back into him, nipping at his lips, using his tongue to caress Jim’s, running it along his teeth. Spock wanted to know every single square centimeter of him.
“Spock,” Jim breathed, his lips shiny with saliva. He removed his hand from his cock and pushed him gently backwards. “Let me – let me return the favor.”
In a few steps, Spock felt the backs of his knees hit his bed and he let Jim lay him back wordlessly. Jim stood between his spread knees, hovering over him like a deity. Transfixed, he watched his captain slowly kneel on the floor in front of him, making quick work of tugging his uniform pants down to his knees. Long eyelashes framed Jim’s gaze. He looked intensely erotic as he looked up at him, a seductive smile on his lips.
Spock’s heart raced. “That is not necessary. I did not expect - ”
Without looking away from him, Jim leaned in and ran his tongue from the base of his cock to the ridged tip. Spock cut himself off with a groan that he almost didn’t believe actually came from him.
Still, he continued, “I did not perform fellatio with the expectation of reciprocation.”
Evidently, that was unworthy of a response. Jim took him into his mouth, his cool Human tongue caressing the tip thoroughly before taking in more. Further arguments escaped him.
Jim’s mouth was sensational. The emotional input from the transference just served to intensify Spock’s reactions. He was astonished at the waves of arousal radiating from Jim, the knowledge that that arousal was because of him. But he was more astonished by the elation, like Jim was excited to be on his knees in front of his first officer. Like Spock had given him a gift.
“Jim,” Spock sighed, gently placing a hand on the back of his head. Jim hummed a note of acknowledgement, or perhaps appreciation, the consequent vibrations shooting arousal throughout his body.
Then Jim brought a hand behind his own head, placing it on top of Spock’s. Their hands buzzed with energy and Spock gasped with pleasure. “Oh, Jim - ”
This appeared to further motivate Jim, who redoubled his efforts. His tongue paid special attention to the ridges on the head before taking the rest of the shaft into his mouth, sliding his lips down and back until Spock was a quivering, moaning mess.
For years, he’d watched his captain seduce any number of foreign women (and men). He’d heard whispers of Jim’s sexual prowess throughout their mission, from Starfleet personnel and foreign dignitaries alike.
It was far, far different to have said prowess at his disposal. To have his captain on his knees before him, hands on his thighs, moaning around his cock. To look at that golden face and find warm hazel eyes looking back at him. To be brought to the brink of madness by that prowess.
Just when Spock was sure he was about to tumble over the edge, Jim removed his mouth and replaced it with a hand, stroking with purpose.
The look on his face was conspiratorial. “What are Vulcan refractory periods like? Similar to Human males?”
Blinking, Spock gathered his wits enough to answer. “Multiple orgasms are common.” His voice was wrecked, unrecognizable to himself. “I believe the average refractory period to be shorter than that of Human males.”
“Good,” Jim said, the sly smile on his face growing, continuing to pump Spock’s cock, slick with fluid. “Because after I make you come in my mouth, I want you to fuck me into your mattress.”
When those cool Human lips wrapped around him again, Spock couldn’t help tightening his grip on his hair. Images flashed through his mind of pinning Jim to his bed, sliding his cock inside his captain –
“Jim, I’m – ”
Jim hummed around him and the vibrations set him off. He gasped as his orgasm hit him, as powerful and jarring as throwing himself off a cliff. He was faintly aware that he was making sounds, but the ecstasy and the safety he felt with Jim overrode any self-consciousness. He could hear Jim moaning around him still as he sucked and swallowed, riding him through it. The joy he felt emanating from Jim added layers of pleasure to an already incredible orgasm.
He was still coming back to himself and hardly noticed Jim stand up and lean over him. He braced his hands on either side of Spock’s head, a soft smile on his face that Spock hadn’t seen before.
“That was devilishly hot,” he breathed into Spock’s ear. “Seeing you come undone, hearing you moaning my name like that, the face you make when you come – you should’ve seen yourself.” Jim nibbled on the pointed tip of his ear and gently grazed their fingers together, sending a jolt of energy through Spock so strong that he had to choke down an embarrassingly wonton sound.
Spock couldn’t stop himself from pulling Jim down on top of him by the fabric of his tunic, kissing him until Jim whimpered into his mouth.
“Spock,” he whispered. “Take me.”
Raw want was tangible in his voice and through his touch. His pupils were blown with desire, a sheen of sweat on his face from the higher temperature in Spock’s quarters. On instinct, Spock licked a stripe up Jim’s neck, collecting the sweat with his tongue, reveling in the staccato groan it elicited.
“Is that what you would prefer?” Spock murmured into his ear. He slipped his hands under Kirk’s tunic, running his hands across overheated, sweat-slick Human skin.
“Yes. Not always,” he added coyly, “but right now I just want to…feel you.”
Spock took the round, alien shell of Jim’s ear between his teeth, running the tip of his tongue along it before releasing it. “Then I suggest you get in my bed,” he growled.
With an almost cartoonish celerity, Jim stood to remove his shirt and finally climbed into Spock’s bed.
The enthusiasm on Jim’s face multiplied as Spock unceremoniously removed his own tunic, then bent down to grasp the waist of Jim’s pants, still resting below his cock. He dragged them down his legs, his underwear with them, Jim lifting his hips and extending his legs to assist. He dropped the clothes on the floor of his quarters without care. He felt his breathing grow labored with arousal as he took in the sight before him.
Jim. Naked in his bed.
“Your turn,” Jim said lightly, eyes glittering. He sat up and gave Spock’s resurrected erection a long, slow stroke before tugging his pants the rest of the way down.
While Spock finished removing them, Jim slid up the bed, resting his head on Spock’s pillow. Spock’s vision swam at the sight.
Jim. Naked in his bed. Head on his pillow.
Spock climbed over Jim to cover his body with his own. He slid a hand downwards to wrap around both of their cocks, Jim’s rapidly hardening again.
“Ah - ” Jim cried out at the feeling of Spock’s slick cock against his. “Please.”
Spock placed a kiss on Jim’s collarbone, followed by an aggressive bite. “Patience, Captain,” he teased.
Not feeling particularly patient himself, however, Spock moved his slicked fingers around to Jim’s rear, running them gently between his cheeks and slipping one inside. Jim gasped beautifully. The tightness around his sensitive digit was indescribable. He pulled out and slowly pushed it back in, savoring the feeling of Jim’s walls clenching around him.
The sounds Jim made were highly pleasing, but Spock wanted to hear more from his captain.
“Earlier,” he rumbled deeply into Jim’s ear, “you also mentioned the thoughts of me that haunt you when you’re alone at night.”
Between moans, Jim said, “No fantasy has done you justice.”
Spock pushed in a second finger alongside his first and bit down on Jim’s earlobe, listening to him cry out.
“As you Humans might say,” Spock murmured, “humor me.”
He punctuated the request with a particularly forceful thrust of his fingers, bearing down on Jim’s prostate.
“God, yes! Fuck – I think about the way you pin me down when we spar, imagine you losing control and fucking me into the mat. Think about you riding me on the bridge in my chair. Think about fucking you against the windows of the observation deck. I think of you bent over your console, wonder how you’d react if I came up behind you and just – grabbed your hips, took you right there.”
“Jim.” His mind flooded with pornographic imagery. He slid in a third finger, thrusting them into him, his cooler Human body pulsing and clenching around him. Jim whined loudly, which turned into a gasp when Spock sunk his teeth into his shoulder.
“Touched myself thinking about you so many times,” Jim continued, voice strained. “I’ve imagined us stranded on a deserted planet, stuck in a shuttlecraft, a Jeffries tube, the turbolift – god, what I’ve imagined doing to you in the turbolift. Or I think about the way you looked at me when we were down on Vulcan, how hungry you looked and how hard you were when you were pressing me into the sand. Just wanted you to – ah!” He gasped again as Spock’s fingers pressed against his prostate again. “I’m ready, Spock, please, fuck me.”
After a final thrust, he withdrew his fingers slowly, hand trembling from eagerness. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Jim sweating and Spock flushed green.
Looking at Jim like this felt like a drug. He didn’t look away when he lifted Jim’s legs to put them over his shoulders. When Spock positioned his cock at his entrance, Jim’s breath hitching, he paused to memorize the moment. Open arousal was written plainly on Jim’s face and his hair lay askew on Spock’s pillow, anticipation coming off him in waves.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” Jim whispered.
And Spock, of course, obeyed his captain. He entered him slowly, both of them moaning in unison. Jim closed his eyes and threw his head back, hands twisted in the sheets, back arching off the bed as Spock continued pressing in.
“Yes, yes,” Jim chanted quietly.
Spock had to close his eyes too as he pushed the rest of the way, overcome with the way Jim looked under him and the unbelievable feeling of being seated inside him.
Spock felt one hand on his chest and one wrapping around the back of his neck. When he opened his eyes, the look of desire on Jim’s face went straight to his cock. There was a delicious pink flush on his face, his eyelids drooping slightly.
His voice was sultry. “Fuck me, Spock.”
“Yes, Captain,” Spock said wryly, withdrawing and thrusting back inside Jim with alacrity.
Jim let out a broken moan followed by a choked-off laugh. “Oh no, you can’t call me Captain in bed, I’ll never – ah! – never be able to hear you say it without thinking of this.” The hand on the back of Spock’s neck slid into his hair.
“As you wish, Jim.”
His next thrust was slightly faster, harder, and aimed at his prostate, and he sought to maintain that pace. Jim cried out and tugged Spock down by his hair, capturing his lips. Spock wasted no time in thrusting his tongue inside Jim’s mouth, timing it with a particularly deep thrust. They both moaned into the kiss, the emotions between them and the wet slide of their lips fueling Spock’s arousal. Jim clenched around him, making the next thrust in feel even tighter, and Spock threw his head back in nearly agonizing pleasure.
Jim’s voice was saturated with lust. “Fuck, Spock – ah, wish you could see what you look like right now, how sexy you are.”
He closed his eyes and shuddered at the sheer want in his captain’s voice, his hips stuttering. He resumed a slower, purposeful pace, sliding nearly all the way out, letting the ridges of his cock catch on the rim before slamming back in completely.
The sounds Jim made were far more alluring than anything he had conjured up in his fantasies. He couldn’t have imagined just how vocal his captain would be during intercourse.
“Yes, yes, Spock, please, harder.” He complied, slamming in fast and hard. “Ah, god, yes! You feel so good, fuck, wanted this for so long…”
The emotion in his words was driving Spock towards orgasm again, and he had to still his hips to hold it off, desperately wanting to prolong it. He shook his head, picking up the pace with his hips again. “It’s unconscionable, what you do to me,” he whispered.
“Tell me,” Jim gasped. “Tell me you want me.”
Spock could have laughed at this request, unable to put together a sentence, let alone about something so ineffable. “Jim,” he rumbled, “I have never wanted anything as badly as I want you. I cannot articulate…”
He slid a hand up to Jim’s face, itching for his psi points.
“Do it, god, please, do it, Spock.”
Before he even finished speaking, his fingers were already in position for a meld. He drove his hips into Jim as he slipped into his mind.
Under ordinary circumstances, the feeling of being in Jim’s mind was like reaching an oasis after days of traveling in the desert. These weren’t ordinary circumstances. Jim was all around him, physically and mentally, and Spock felt himself completely submerged in the bright, blinding pleasure Jim was experiencing.
During their previous melds, Spock had to exert superior control in order to keep from falling into this beautiful mind. Now, he was free to let himself feel and bask in the swirl of what he now recognized was Jim’s love all along.
He pushed his own devotion and adoration to the forefront of his mind, so Jim might understand even a fraction of what he felt for him. The solid cord of what Humans would undoubtedly call love was woven into every fiber of the space Jim took up in his waking mind. Spock called upon all of it to offer to him.
Still moved by Jim’s earlier openness, Spock revealed flashes of his own lonely nights. Visions of himself in bed, trying to will away the arousal that arose when he thought too warmly of his captain, failing, then allowing himself a few shameful moments at a time to want, to let Jim’s image suffuse his mind and wrap a hand around his cock, touching himself to the thought of golden skin against his own -
He felt Jim bodily cry out his name, overwhelmed by the joint pleasure they summed into a tidal wave through the meld, or perhaps from the repeated brushes against his prostate.
Spock…
He brought his mind away from those memories and back into the one he was making now – his captain’s face looking at him in awe, love radiating from everywhere they touched, the sweet pleasure of Jim’s body under his hands and around his cock.
No words in Standard, Vulcan, or any known language could sufficiently describe how I feel about you, Jim.
The joy those words sent through Jim had them both moaning, both building on each other’s emotions in a positive feedback loop. He’d never felt this much in a meld, his arousal lowering his shields to such a degree that he had difficulty differentiating which sensations were his own body’s and which were Jim’s.
Spock didn’t have to be told to wrap a hand around Jim’s leaking cock. A flash of white-hot pleasure zapped through them.
It only took one stroke to have Jim shouting his name, and in the ensuing whiteout he was unsure whether it had been physically uttered or only heard in their minds.
Spock, oh, I love you, so much -
And then they were tumbling off the cliff together, spinning out between their physical reality and the joint, blinding, searing ecstasy they shared in the meld. Jim came all over their chests and Spock’s hand with a long, drawn-out moan. Spock felt himself driving home inside Jim as deep as he could, releasing inside of him, an atavistic need to claim taking over as he filled his mate with his seed and kept going.
He heard himself chanting “Mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Spock, only yours.”
Jim’s physical voice came in more clearly as their orgasms abated. Spock found himself disconcertingly reluctant to end the meld. He wished to crawl inside Jim’s mind, now blissed out and swimming in oxytocin, and curl up inside that golden light.
It was with great discipline that he removed his hand from his captain’s face. Jim’s eyes were wide, his hair wild and out of place, and he was sweaty and panting as his eyes roved over Spock’s face. His parted lips turned slowly into a grin.
“Wow,” he said quietly.
“Indeed,” Spock replied, unable to articulate further.
Jim lifted a hand to Spock’s chin, pulling their mouths together. This kiss was slow and sensual, passionate but without the urgency of their pre-coital kissing. Jim kissed him softly but deeply. He could still feel the adoration radiating through their touch.
He pulled out of Jim slowly and collapsed on his back next to him. Jim turned onto his side to gaze at Spock’s profile, running his fingers over his shoulder and down to his hand, rubbing their digits together. Impossibly, a tendril of arousal slithered through Spock. Even more impossibly, it appeared that Jim felt it, and he laughed.
“You never fail to surprise me,” Jim murmured. “Is that always what it’s like? Melding during sex?”
The tip of Jim’s index finger ran up and down his own. Spock’s eyes fluttered shut. “No. It is not.”
Jim hummed at that but didn’t say anything further, curling into Spock’s side. The hand stroking his own moved to his chest, running through the hair there. Spock wrapped his arm tightly around Jim, pulling them flush together, and couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.
“I know we should shower,” Jim said softly, “but if you don’t mind the sentimentality, I’d like to appreciate this moment a little longer.”
“For you,” Spock teased, “I will accept it.”
They were silent for several moments, basking in the presence of one another.
When Jim spoke again, his voice was soft. “I think part of me still fears this is a dream.” He breathed a laugh through his nose. “Are you sure you didn’t receive any of Dr. Adams’ ‘treatments’?” he joked.
Spock turned his head to look at this beautiful man. The Captain’s question that began this escapade resurfaced in his mind: “Is it so impossible to believe that I’m madly in love with you?”
Madly, indeed.
With a hint of a smile turning up the corners of his lips, Spock said, “Is it so impossible to believe I’m equally as mad for you?”