![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
corpus_invictusTitle: Take Refuge in What You Know, Chapter 23
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Spock/Kirk, hints of others
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for the Star Trek XI Kink Meme prompt found here: "AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma."
Spock was too exhausted to panic by the time Jim led him out of his apartment. He barely reacted at all as Jim pulled him from his room and back into Jim's own. His blank expression remained as Jim guided him to the bedroom, pushing him to sit at the foot of the bed while Jim dug around for the hypo kit McCoy had given him.
"You have been speaking with the doctor," Spock observed, his voice low and monotone.
"Yeah. He's the one who clued me in about the melding thing." There were four different hyposprays to choose from. Jim grabbed the second strongest one and shot it into his neck, wincing at the mild sting. "He wants to meet you sometime, by the way. To thank you for the lawyer. And to growl at you about not taking proper care of yourself. Try not to get too offended about that when it happens - it's just what he does."
Spock said nothing, watching Jim blankly as he moved around his bedroom, stowing the hypo kit in a dresser drawer before sitting next to him.
"Hey," he said softly, taking Spock's clammy hands in his own. "Talk to me."
"What do you wish me to say?"
Jim hoped that his earlier meld-slash-panic-attack had exhausted him enough that he could talk about his issues without getting all worked up again. "How bad were things with Stonn, at the end?" What he wanted to ask was, 'How much of a complete asshole was your ex?' but the diplomatic approach often worked better on Spock.
Spock stared at their hands resting in Jim's lap. "We did not engage in a meld for the last several weeks we were living together. He was... Jim, you cannot understand how vital it is for a Vulcan to control his or her emotions. Being unable to do so not only constitutes a failure of character, but a reversion back to the pre-Surak days when we were a violent, bloodthirsty people. At the end he viewed me as a barbarian and culturally he was correct to do so."
Jim's hands squeezed around Spock's at the matter-of-fact condemnation of his problem. "He didn't take your human characteristics into account at all?"
"I did not have any when we were bonded on Vulcan. It was therefore illogical that I would suddenly exhibit human behaviors when stationed on Earth."
Jim's face twisted into a sad kind of smile at that, leaning forward to press a kiss against his temple. "See, I think that's where both of you were wrong," he told him, nuzzling into the side of his face. "I think somewhere buried under all that Vulcan conditioning to keep yourself calm and logical and under control, you feel love the same way a human does. You get attached. You care what the other person thinks. You want to be your best for them. And you're miserable when you can't live up to those perceived expectations."
Spock closed his eyes and leaned into the contact, the first few signs that he was starting to relax. "Interesting," he murmured, which Jim had come to learn meant that he neither agreed nor disagreed with what Jim was saying and was only contributing to the conversation to adhere to human social conventions.
He pushed his luck. "How come he didn't stay and try to work on this with you? I mean, you were bonded. I thought that was pretty damn important to Vulcans."
"It is." Spock's fingers gripped Jim's tightly. "I believe he no longer found comfort or compatibility within our bond. It was less painful for him to have it severed than it was to either reach out to an unbalanced mind or to completely block contact with it." He pulled back as if he wished to make eye contact but wound up staring at Jim's mattress instead. "When one half of a bonded pair suffers, the other shares in that suffering due to the link between them. When Stonn's experiments failed to produce any change in my mental state, he decided it could not be solved through traditional Vulcan exercises or control techniques."
And it wouldn't have occurred to either of them to try human techniques. "I guess I just don't understand how he could walk away after vowing to spend his life with you."
Spock's expression trembled, threatened to break. "Neither do I," he whispered, closing his eyes again.
Jim realized that in the absence of any logical answer to that particular dilemma, Spock had foisted the blame for his broken bond entirely upon himself. It had only compounded the anxiety issues that had blossomed due to his new-found proximity to humans, and what could have been an easily fixed control issue in the early stages had devolved into a panic-stricken, reclusive Vulcan who had only grown more imbalanced over time. All Spock had wanted was a support system, someone to anchor him in his time of need, and that anchor had deserted him in an act of self-preservation.
"Spock," he sighed, letting go of his hands so he could pull Spock into a hug, wrapping himself around the man as if it would protect him from all the hurt he had gone through in the last year or two. "He's an idiot, okay? Sometimes there isn't any other explanation."
Spock allowed himself to be held, his hands still resting in Jim's lap, not reciprocating the touch. "I do not understand," he admitted, face pressed against Jim's shoulder. "I am mentally and emotionally unstable. I cannot leave the building but I cannot stand remaining inside. I am alien to you both biologically and culturally." It took him several minutes before he gathered the courage to ask his question. "Why would you remain when others have not?"
It felt like a turning point, like something heavy and important were weighing down the question. Jim didn't answer right away. He wouldn't let his mouth run away with him during such a pivotal moment. He pressed his nose to the wild mass of hair, inhaling the strange scent of him and gathering his thoughts.
"Because I'm not as alien to you as you seem to think," he murmured into his temple. "Part of you originates from my planet, my people. You've spent your whole life giving your Vulcan half everything it needs to thrive and your human half has been neglected. Maybe the reason I'm so drawn to you isn't that you're so different from me, but because we're also a lot alike."
"In what way are we anything alike?" Spock asked, his tone disbelieving.
"Do you love me?" Jim asked, the question leaving his mouth before he had time to think about it, to filter it. That sense of importance was still weighing on him, and he wanted to kick himself for allowing one of his more impulsive thoughts to voice itself. "You don't have to answer that," he assured him belatedly.
Spock pulled away from him and succeeded in meeting his eyes this time, his expression open, vulnerable, naked. "Yes," he said, and while his voice wavered a little, his gaze never did.
It didn't matter how deep or serious the conversation had been up until that point; Jim broke into a face-splitting grin. It wasn't as if he hadn't known Spock had feelings for him, it wasn't as if they hadn't danced their way around discussing those feelings, but it was an entirely different matter to have them acknowledged so openly. "Well, there's one thing we have in common," he smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
Spock didn't share his joyful expression, his face guarded. "Love is not always enough to ensure a lasting connection between two people."
"You're right." Jim found himself thinking of McCoy and Jocelyn, of the conversation he'd had with Joanna the last time he'd watched her. "But sometimes it's enough to keep two people together when everything else would break them. Besides, we're alike in other ways, too."
"How so?"
He cradled Spock's face in his hands, keeping him from breaking eye contact when Jim spoke. "I saw you that night on the rooftop. I saw you. You've got the same love of the sky that I do, that same desire to visit each and every star just to see what's living there. You were so different that night, Spock. It was like the real you came out from under all that panic and guilt and other stuff that takes over your brain. And you were... God, Spock, you were gorgeous."
Jim knew Spock could feel the sincerity of his words through their skin, could sense it from where Jim's palms were pressed against Spock's cheeks. He saw the moment that he processed the words, the emotions, saw too the moment he allowed himself to believe them.
"Come here," Jim whispered, tugging at him gently to move up on the bed, pushing him down into the unmade sheets and smiling down at him. "Don't go anywhere." He got up and took a moment to lift the blinds on all his bedroom windows, letting in the late afternoon sun, watching as it spilled over Spock's prone form. "I'm going to tell you everything I see in you, everything I feel when I'm around you. But we're going to do it with the outside world streaming in a little bit." He cracked his windows open, letting a cool breeze flow into the room. "Because you're a lot more at ease with yourself when you're out there."
"Yes," Spock agreed, his gaze fixed on the windows for a few moments, taking in the unobstructed view of the clouds, of the slowly dying sunshine. Then he looked at Jim, never breaking eye contact with him as he walked back towards the bed. Spock reached a hand across the mattress, beckoning him to join him.
"Not yet." He pulled his old t-shirt over his head and tossed it in a corner, unbuttoned his jeans and hobbled out of those as well. He left his underwear on for the time being and looked up at Spock.
Spock's face was a devastating combination of uncertainty and lust, the tips of his ears flushing sage green and his eyes darting from Jim's face, to his chest, to his groin, and then guiltily back up to his face again.
"You can look," Jim assured him, crawling up to sit on the bed next to Spock and taking the offered hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "You can look all you want. But I'd like... I'd like to see you, too."
The uncertainty won over the lust in Spock's expression then, his gaze darting nervously to Jim's face. "Jim..."
"Spock, I've seen you have a panic attack. I've seen you throw up after a meld. And I've seen you when you come. If I've seen all that and haven't taken off, what awful thing do you think is going to happen if I see you naked?" He chuckled. "And how ridiculous is it that I've seen you come and yet I have no idea what most of your body looks like?"
Spock considered that, his face still carrying traces of anxiety. But Jim noticed that the anxiety wasn't laced with the fearful fight-or-flight look he had seen so many times over the past few months. It felt like a huge step forward, and Jim was already smiling by the time Spock sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers.
Jim wanted to reach out and bat his hands away but he restrained himself. It was another huge step forward that Spock was undressing in Jim's presence at all, and Jim hated to take over when Spock was willing to do it himself. Instead he kept his eyes glued to the newly bared inches of skin at Spock's neck, below his collarbone, the fabric parting all the way down to his waistband before Spock shrugged it off.
"Oh," Jim breathed, and he couldn't stop himself from touching anymore. He traced his fingers up the newly bared arm, across his collarbone, brushing through the hair covering his chest. He pressed his hand there more firmly, trying to feel his heart beating under the skin, frowning when he could feel nothing past the searing heat of him.
Spock seemed to understand what he'd been looking for. He took Jim's hand in his own, kissing the palm and then looking self-conscious about the display of affection before he pressed it against the low thrumming in his right side.
"Okay," he murmured, moving closer to him until his lips almost brushed against Spock's as he spoke. "There's one of the best things I see in you: your capacity for love and emotion. It kills me that you always look so guilty after any display of affection, like you've screwed up and you're waiting for me to call you on it." He closed the gap between them, not so much kissing him as mouthing at Spock's lower lip, getting the faintest taste of him. "I know you want your controls back. And I want that to happen for you. But I hope no matter how far you go in reclaiming that, this part of you remains, even if only in private."
Spock's eyes grew wider and wider as Jim let his mouth run away with him. Clearly no one had ever spoken to him this way and he had no idea how to handle it past moving closer for more contact, keeping his gaze glued on Jim. "It is not against Vulcan social mores to take pleasure in one's partner or mate."
"Glad to hear it." Jim pushed on him gently until he was on his back again, drinking in the sight of him before pressing a soft kiss to his throat, shivering at the low rumbling sound it produced. "There's another thing I can't get enough of: your voice. I didn't notice it for the longest time at first - you were always so damn quiet. But when you finally started speaking up... God, Spock, you could recite the dictionary and it would still be sexy."
Spock swallowed hard, squirming under all the praise. "Jim," he whispered hoarsely, fingers digging into Jim's hipbones where he'd grabbed onto him like an anchor in a storm. "Jim, this is... It is too much."
"Too damn bad," Jim returned, kissing down his chest. "You've been shut up in that room with nothing but Stonn's bullshit and your own demons for company. Bones said you needed your boundaries pushed at times, so you're going to lay there and let me push for awhile. I've had just about enough of you thinking you're somehow less of a person or a Vulcan or whatever." He emphasized his point by dragging his teeth over an olive green nipple.
Spock jerked in surprise, fisting his other hand in Jim's hair and hissing at him quietly. "Jim," he said again, with more of a warning in his voice than a plea.
"Too rough?" Before Spock could answer, Jim had already kissed it soothingly, hoping that would get a better response.
"Yes. No, I..." Spock squirmed. "More," he finally choked out, then squeezed his eyes shut as if he were ashamed of his request.
"Oh no," Jim muttered, stopping his oral exploration of Spock's chest. He swung a leg over him, straddling him and pressing more kisses along his jaw, his cheekbone, then into the worried creases at the corners of his eyes. "Open up. Look at me."
Spock started trembling again, his hands digging bruises into Jim's hip and scalp. "I..." He shook his head, fighting some sort of internal battle before opening his eyes, some of the anxiety in his expression making the slow slide into fear.
Jim was having none of that, kissing his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his upper lip. "You don't ever, ever feel bad about asking for something. Not ever. I'm a fish out of water here, Spock. I have no idea what makes a Vulcan feel good and even less of an idea of how to make you feel good without freaking you out. So if there's something you want me to do, you tell me."
Spock worked his mouth a few times, the fear slowly melting from his eyes. His fingers relaxed at the nape of Jim's neck so he was cradling him rather than bruising him when he pulled him down for another kiss. It started out tentative, began to build in intensity when Spock's lips opened under his and he licked at the seam of Jim's mouth. Just as Jim was opening to him to get a better taste of him, Spock broke the contact to look up at him. "So long as you will agree to those same terms," he murmured.
"Uh..." What had he been saying? He always felt dazed after Spock initiated a kiss. His underwear was starting to feel far too confining, his erection pressing against the bulge in Spock's trousers. "Yeah," he finally managed, his brain tripping over itself in an effort to catch up. "Although I'm not feeling all that picky right now. All I want is more of you."
"Yes," Spock agreed, not quite meeting his gaze as his hands drifted down Jim's back and cupped his backside, stilling there as if he didn't dare move any more than that.
But Jim shuddered as if Spock had groped at him obscenely - hell, for Spock it practically was obscene groping. "Can I-" he began to say, his voice going rough in the middle. He cleared it, nuzzling against the soft skin under Spock's ear when he tried again. "Can I take these off?" he asked, fingering the fastenings of Spock's pants.
Spock shifted restlessly underneath him. "You... You are aware of the anatomical differences between humans and Vulcans?"
Jim felt a blush burn up his cheeks. "I, uh. Actually, no. All I've got to work on here is what I could feel when we were up on the roof." He pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "But it seems to me we have pretty similar equipment, at least as far as I could tell from blindly touching you."
Silence lapsed between them, Spock doing that thing where he looked as if he were gathering strength for a battle he had no hope of winning. After an eternity of quiet, he took one of Jim's hands in his and led it to his waistband. "You may find it... surprising," he warned.
"Maybe," Jim agreed, pressing a trail of kisses down Spock's neck and chest until he was at eye-level with his groin. He licked at each new bit of skin he revealed as he unbuttoned the soft black trousers, nuzzling against the trail of fine hairs leading down, down...
"Christ, Spock," he whispered. "Do all Vulcans go commando or is it just you?"
"I do not..." Spock stuttered and trailed off as Jim pulled the pants down his hips and off his legs, leaving him laid utterly bare underneath him. "I do not... understand the phrase."
"No underwear," Jim explained breathlessly. He couldn't help his mesmerized stare. It was... well, decidedly greener than he had expected, but it got less weird the more he looked at it. It was also incredibly slick, fluid leaking from the slit as well as lubricating the rest of the shaft, though he couldn't quite puzzle out where the lubrication had come from. There was a fold of skin surrounding the base, flushed a deep olive color, and Jim couldn't figure that out, either. He also seemed to be lacking testicles and Jim wondered if they were internal.
"They are," Spock rasped, answering the unasked question. Jim realized he'd been digging his fingers into Spock's thighs as he tried to figure out his genitalia, and he blushed even deeper at being caught.
But as long as Spock was willing to volunteer information... "Are they in here?" he asked quietly, tracing a finger along the fold of skin at the base.
Spock shuddered, his hips jutting forward before he fought them back down to the bed. "No," he rasped. "But the sheath there is... sensitive."
"Obviously." He dipped his head to lick at it, groaning at the mildly bitter taste. "Where are they, then?"
Spock couldn't speak for a moment, his mouth opening and closing uselessly before he regained the power of speech. "The location is sim-similar to your own," he stuttered, his voice pitched lower than Jim had ever heard it before.
Jim wrapped one hand around Spock's shaft, Spock's hips jutting helplessly forward at the sensation. His other hand trailed under it, tracing the smooth skin along the base, then further back, further back, pressing against his perenium-
And almost being thrown off the bed from the force of Spock's bucking, laughing breathlessly as he pinned him back down to the blankets. "Also sensitive, I take it," he grinned, licking into the crease of Spock's thigh.
"Jim," Spock pleaded, the barest hint of a whine coloring his voice. "Jim, I... I want..." He was either unable or unwilling to verbalize the rest, spreading his legs and reaching down to tug at Jim's shoulders and neck.
"Me too," Jim whispered, scraping his teeth over Spock's ribs and along his side as he shifted back up to face him. "Fuck, Spock, me too." He was pulled into another drowning kiss, open mouthed and somewhat graceless but wet and perfect all the same. "Do you-" Jim began to say, distracted momentarily by an urgent need to suck on the point of his ear. "Can I?" he finally managed to ask, hoping Spock would understand.
Spock shuddered underneath him. "Yes," he whispered, slipping his fingers into the waistband of Jim's underwear and peeling them off his body.
Jim shifted enough to let him, reaching into a dresser drawer to retrieve a small bottle of lubricant. He had just popped the cap when there was slick, sudden pressure surrounding his cock. He gasped, fumbling the bottle and dropping it on the pillow, thrusting into the tight fist of Spock's hand where he had wrapped it around both of their cocks. "Holy shit, Spock, you gotta warn me before you do something like that."
"Lubrication is un-necessary," Spock's breath hitched halfway through the word, tilting his face upward to whisper the rest into Jim's ear. "Vulcans have superior muscle control. I am sufficiently relaxed."
Most of Jim was screaming at him to listen, to take what Spock was offering. But he shook his head, peppering kisses over Spock's face. "Vulcans also appear to be self-lubricating," he pointed out, then moaned when Spock's hand stroked over both their shafts. "I don't- Humans-" He was fast losing track of the conversation. "Don't wanna hurt you," he finally managed to get out.
"You will not." And the quiet confidence in Spock's voice was another shocking turn-on after having seen him so utterly distraught earlier.
"No. Not ever," Jim whispered, and maybe he was making the meaning of those words a little too deep, but he didn't care. He set about proving himself by kissing over his throat, under his jaw, pressing his lips against a pointed ear as he shifted himself out of Spock's grasp. He was slick where Spock had stroked their cocks together, and he resisted the urge to thrust forward through sheer force of will. "Okay?" he asked, the head of his cock nudging up against his entrance.
There was still a faint trace of anxiety in Spock's eyes, but he shifted until he had one leg hooked over Jim's hip, spreading the other open in blatant invitation. "Yes."
Jim pushed forward, intending to take his time to ensure Spock was comfortable with penetration after over a year of celibacy. But Spock had apparently given him a massive understatement, because not only was he relaxed enough to allow entry, he dug his fingers into Jim's ass and pulled him in. In a rush of slick heat, Jim was buried balls-deep in him, smothering a cry in Spock's shoulder and hoping he wouldn't come instantly and humiliate himself.
As he collected the shreds of his self-control, he became aware of a low rumbling noise coming from somewhere. He looked down at Spock, took in the closed eyes, the parted lips, the quiet vibrations of sound echoing from...
"Are you purring?"
Spock's eyes cracked open, somehow managing to look both lustful and indignant. "I am not."
"You are," Jim insisted, grinning down at him. "Like a goddamn cat. Do all Vulcans do that or is it j-nngh," he moaned, his question forgotten because Spock had used some of that superior muscle control to squeeze around his shaft. Jim thrust forward instinctively, dropping his forehead to rest against Spock's and trying to steady himself again. "That wasn't fair."
"Jim," Spock didn't quite whine at him, cupping his jaw in those long, elegant fingers and pressing their mouths together.
Jim swallowed down the rest of the purr, tongue delving into Spock's mouth to chase the feel and flavor of it as he began to rock his hips in a deep, steady rhythm. He let himself go for long minutes, drowning in the rhythm of their bodies together, the desperate, suckling quality of their kisses, the way Spock's body opened to his and embraced it, the rumbling emanating from his chest.
He was fast approaching his climax, pulling back from the kiss to make sure Spock was there, too. The moment their lips parted, he had his answer. "You're... not..." he gasped between thrusts.
Spock looked just as lost as Jim felt. "I..." He shook his head, looking up at Jim helplessly.
He was hard, at least; Jim could feel the slick length of him pressed between their bodies. He was simply nowhere near as close as Jim was. "What do you need?" he breathed over his lips, slowing his thrusts to get an answer out of him.
Spock closed his eyes momentarily, and Jim hated that it was such a battle for him to ask for what he wanted. But seconds later there was a hand grabbing for one of his, fingers still slick from Spock's natural lubrication. Spock laced their fingers together and squeezed gently, explaining himself through actions rather than words. Jim gave a hesitant squeeze back.
And watched in shock as Spock arched under him, only adding to the feline characteristics he'd displayed that night. "Holy shit," Jim whispered, belatedly remembering what both Gaila and Uhura had told him about the importance of hands to a Vulcan. He rocked his hips against Spock's, squeezing his hand at the same time, groaning at the look of ecstasy slowly taking over Spock's face. "Fuck, yes," he muttered against his shoulder. "Can you come like this? Want you to come, Spock, wanna feel you fall apart, wanna see you put yourself back together just like this..." His mouth was running away with him as it always did when an orgasm was looming.
"Jim," Spock gasped, and it seemed to be a mantra, one of the only words he could choke out as they moved against each other. His free hand flailed in the air for a moment, almost reaching for him before Spock consciously jerked it back into the pillows, gazing up at Jim with a plea for understanding in his eyes.
It took Jim a moment to get it, eyes lighting up when realization dawned. "Yes," he whispered, pressing his forehead to Spock's again. "Do it. Please. I want you to. Want you to see how you make me feel, how much I... How much..."
And before he could find the words to verbalize what he meant, there were scorching fingertips pressed to his jaw, his cheek, his temple. Spock was saying something but he couldn't comprehend it, and he wondered if Spock had lapsed into his native language-
His wondering was interrupted by a sudden maelstrom of love lust desire want Jim yes Jim please close want Jim Jim Jim and the words danced and melded with his own yes Spock please love you want you mine please let go let go let me see you...
It was difficult to really see Spock as his head fell back, as his back arched further, as his legs squeezed around Jim's hips while he groaned and shuddered, the thick ropes of come spilling so hotly between them that Jim could have sworn he was being scalded. He could only distantly grasp the physical sensations, his mind warping higher and higher into a psychic plane humans were unable to access. He knew he was coming with him, could feel his orgasm thundering through him as he thrust into Spock and stilled there, but the physical sensations were secondary to the warm thrumming of thoughts sifting between them. His body shuddered and collapsed onto Spock, his mind full of warmth, affection, belonging, safety as it began to drift away from him. He tried to hold onto it, tried desperately to remain within that serene, welcoming embrace.
He found himself slipping into a sleepy stupor, enveloped by the presence of Spock, friend, brother, lover.... He had just enough presence of mind to hear the echo of a word he did not recognize before he was lost to the pull of unconsciousness.
To Chapter Twenty Four
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Spock/Kirk, hints of others
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for the Star Trek XI Kink Meme prompt found here: "AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma."
Spock was too exhausted to panic by the time Jim led him out of his apartment. He barely reacted at all as Jim pulled him from his room and back into Jim's own. His blank expression remained as Jim guided him to the bedroom, pushing him to sit at the foot of the bed while Jim dug around for the hypo kit McCoy had given him.
"You have been speaking with the doctor," Spock observed, his voice low and monotone.
"Yeah. He's the one who clued me in about the melding thing." There were four different hyposprays to choose from. Jim grabbed the second strongest one and shot it into his neck, wincing at the mild sting. "He wants to meet you sometime, by the way. To thank you for the lawyer. And to growl at you about not taking proper care of yourself. Try not to get too offended about that when it happens - it's just what he does."
Spock said nothing, watching Jim blankly as he moved around his bedroom, stowing the hypo kit in a dresser drawer before sitting next to him.
"Hey," he said softly, taking Spock's clammy hands in his own. "Talk to me."
"What do you wish me to say?"
Jim hoped that his earlier meld-slash-panic-attack had exhausted him enough that he could talk about his issues without getting all worked up again. "How bad were things with Stonn, at the end?" What he wanted to ask was, 'How much of a complete asshole was your ex?' but the diplomatic approach often worked better on Spock.
Spock stared at their hands resting in Jim's lap. "We did not engage in a meld for the last several weeks we were living together. He was... Jim, you cannot understand how vital it is for a Vulcan to control his or her emotions. Being unable to do so not only constitutes a failure of character, but a reversion back to the pre-Surak days when we were a violent, bloodthirsty people. At the end he viewed me as a barbarian and culturally he was correct to do so."
Jim's hands squeezed around Spock's at the matter-of-fact condemnation of his problem. "He didn't take your human characteristics into account at all?"
"I did not have any when we were bonded on Vulcan. It was therefore illogical that I would suddenly exhibit human behaviors when stationed on Earth."
Jim's face twisted into a sad kind of smile at that, leaning forward to press a kiss against his temple. "See, I think that's where both of you were wrong," he told him, nuzzling into the side of his face. "I think somewhere buried under all that Vulcan conditioning to keep yourself calm and logical and under control, you feel love the same way a human does. You get attached. You care what the other person thinks. You want to be your best for them. And you're miserable when you can't live up to those perceived expectations."
Spock closed his eyes and leaned into the contact, the first few signs that he was starting to relax. "Interesting," he murmured, which Jim had come to learn meant that he neither agreed nor disagreed with what Jim was saying and was only contributing to the conversation to adhere to human social conventions.
He pushed his luck. "How come he didn't stay and try to work on this with you? I mean, you were bonded. I thought that was pretty damn important to Vulcans."
"It is." Spock's fingers gripped Jim's tightly. "I believe he no longer found comfort or compatibility within our bond. It was less painful for him to have it severed than it was to either reach out to an unbalanced mind or to completely block contact with it." He pulled back as if he wished to make eye contact but wound up staring at Jim's mattress instead. "When one half of a bonded pair suffers, the other shares in that suffering due to the link between them. When Stonn's experiments failed to produce any change in my mental state, he decided it could not be solved through traditional Vulcan exercises or control techniques."
And it wouldn't have occurred to either of them to try human techniques. "I guess I just don't understand how he could walk away after vowing to spend his life with you."
Spock's expression trembled, threatened to break. "Neither do I," he whispered, closing his eyes again.
Jim realized that in the absence of any logical answer to that particular dilemma, Spock had foisted the blame for his broken bond entirely upon himself. It had only compounded the anxiety issues that had blossomed due to his new-found proximity to humans, and what could have been an easily fixed control issue in the early stages had devolved into a panic-stricken, reclusive Vulcan who had only grown more imbalanced over time. All Spock had wanted was a support system, someone to anchor him in his time of need, and that anchor had deserted him in an act of self-preservation.
"Spock," he sighed, letting go of his hands so he could pull Spock into a hug, wrapping himself around the man as if it would protect him from all the hurt he had gone through in the last year or two. "He's an idiot, okay? Sometimes there isn't any other explanation."
Spock allowed himself to be held, his hands still resting in Jim's lap, not reciprocating the touch. "I do not understand," he admitted, face pressed against Jim's shoulder. "I am mentally and emotionally unstable. I cannot leave the building but I cannot stand remaining inside. I am alien to you both biologically and culturally." It took him several minutes before he gathered the courage to ask his question. "Why would you remain when others have not?"
It felt like a turning point, like something heavy and important were weighing down the question. Jim didn't answer right away. He wouldn't let his mouth run away with him during such a pivotal moment. He pressed his nose to the wild mass of hair, inhaling the strange scent of him and gathering his thoughts.
"Because I'm not as alien to you as you seem to think," he murmured into his temple. "Part of you originates from my planet, my people. You've spent your whole life giving your Vulcan half everything it needs to thrive and your human half has been neglected. Maybe the reason I'm so drawn to you isn't that you're so different from me, but because we're also a lot alike."
"In what way are we anything alike?" Spock asked, his tone disbelieving.
"Do you love me?" Jim asked, the question leaving his mouth before he had time to think about it, to filter it. That sense of importance was still weighing on him, and he wanted to kick himself for allowing one of his more impulsive thoughts to voice itself. "You don't have to answer that," he assured him belatedly.
Spock pulled away from him and succeeded in meeting his eyes this time, his expression open, vulnerable, naked. "Yes," he said, and while his voice wavered a little, his gaze never did.
It didn't matter how deep or serious the conversation had been up until that point; Jim broke into a face-splitting grin. It wasn't as if he hadn't known Spock had feelings for him, it wasn't as if they hadn't danced their way around discussing those feelings, but it was an entirely different matter to have them acknowledged so openly. "Well, there's one thing we have in common," he smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
Spock didn't share his joyful expression, his face guarded. "Love is not always enough to ensure a lasting connection between two people."
"You're right." Jim found himself thinking of McCoy and Jocelyn, of the conversation he'd had with Joanna the last time he'd watched her. "But sometimes it's enough to keep two people together when everything else would break them. Besides, we're alike in other ways, too."
"How so?"
He cradled Spock's face in his hands, keeping him from breaking eye contact when Jim spoke. "I saw you that night on the rooftop. I saw you. You've got the same love of the sky that I do, that same desire to visit each and every star just to see what's living there. You were so different that night, Spock. It was like the real you came out from under all that panic and guilt and other stuff that takes over your brain. And you were... God, Spock, you were gorgeous."
Jim knew Spock could feel the sincerity of his words through their skin, could sense it from where Jim's palms were pressed against Spock's cheeks. He saw the moment that he processed the words, the emotions, saw too the moment he allowed himself to believe them.
"Come here," Jim whispered, tugging at him gently to move up on the bed, pushing him down into the unmade sheets and smiling down at him. "Don't go anywhere." He got up and took a moment to lift the blinds on all his bedroom windows, letting in the late afternoon sun, watching as it spilled over Spock's prone form. "I'm going to tell you everything I see in you, everything I feel when I'm around you. But we're going to do it with the outside world streaming in a little bit." He cracked his windows open, letting a cool breeze flow into the room. "Because you're a lot more at ease with yourself when you're out there."
"Yes," Spock agreed, his gaze fixed on the windows for a few moments, taking in the unobstructed view of the clouds, of the slowly dying sunshine. Then he looked at Jim, never breaking eye contact with him as he walked back towards the bed. Spock reached a hand across the mattress, beckoning him to join him.
"Not yet." He pulled his old t-shirt over his head and tossed it in a corner, unbuttoned his jeans and hobbled out of those as well. He left his underwear on for the time being and looked up at Spock.
Spock's face was a devastating combination of uncertainty and lust, the tips of his ears flushing sage green and his eyes darting from Jim's face, to his chest, to his groin, and then guiltily back up to his face again.
"You can look," Jim assured him, crawling up to sit on the bed next to Spock and taking the offered hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "You can look all you want. But I'd like... I'd like to see you, too."
The uncertainty won over the lust in Spock's expression then, his gaze darting nervously to Jim's face. "Jim..."
"Spock, I've seen you have a panic attack. I've seen you throw up after a meld. And I've seen you when you come. If I've seen all that and haven't taken off, what awful thing do you think is going to happen if I see you naked?" He chuckled. "And how ridiculous is it that I've seen you come and yet I have no idea what most of your body looks like?"
Spock considered that, his face still carrying traces of anxiety. But Jim noticed that the anxiety wasn't laced with the fearful fight-or-flight look he had seen so many times over the past few months. It felt like a huge step forward, and Jim was already smiling by the time Spock sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers.
Jim wanted to reach out and bat his hands away but he restrained himself. It was another huge step forward that Spock was undressing in Jim's presence at all, and Jim hated to take over when Spock was willing to do it himself. Instead he kept his eyes glued to the newly bared inches of skin at Spock's neck, below his collarbone, the fabric parting all the way down to his waistband before Spock shrugged it off.
"Oh," Jim breathed, and he couldn't stop himself from touching anymore. He traced his fingers up the newly bared arm, across his collarbone, brushing through the hair covering his chest. He pressed his hand there more firmly, trying to feel his heart beating under the skin, frowning when he could feel nothing past the searing heat of him.
Spock seemed to understand what he'd been looking for. He took Jim's hand in his own, kissing the palm and then looking self-conscious about the display of affection before he pressed it against the low thrumming in his right side.
"Okay," he murmured, moving closer to him until his lips almost brushed against Spock's as he spoke. "There's one of the best things I see in you: your capacity for love and emotion. It kills me that you always look so guilty after any display of affection, like you've screwed up and you're waiting for me to call you on it." He closed the gap between them, not so much kissing him as mouthing at Spock's lower lip, getting the faintest taste of him. "I know you want your controls back. And I want that to happen for you. But I hope no matter how far you go in reclaiming that, this part of you remains, even if only in private."
Spock's eyes grew wider and wider as Jim let his mouth run away with him. Clearly no one had ever spoken to him this way and he had no idea how to handle it past moving closer for more contact, keeping his gaze glued on Jim. "It is not against Vulcan social mores to take pleasure in one's partner or mate."
"Glad to hear it." Jim pushed on him gently until he was on his back again, drinking in the sight of him before pressing a soft kiss to his throat, shivering at the low rumbling sound it produced. "There's another thing I can't get enough of: your voice. I didn't notice it for the longest time at first - you were always so damn quiet. But when you finally started speaking up... God, Spock, you could recite the dictionary and it would still be sexy."
Spock swallowed hard, squirming under all the praise. "Jim," he whispered hoarsely, fingers digging into Jim's hipbones where he'd grabbed onto him like an anchor in a storm. "Jim, this is... It is too much."
"Too damn bad," Jim returned, kissing down his chest. "You've been shut up in that room with nothing but Stonn's bullshit and your own demons for company. Bones said you needed your boundaries pushed at times, so you're going to lay there and let me push for awhile. I've had just about enough of you thinking you're somehow less of a person or a Vulcan or whatever." He emphasized his point by dragging his teeth over an olive green nipple.
Spock jerked in surprise, fisting his other hand in Jim's hair and hissing at him quietly. "Jim," he said again, with more of a warning in his voice than a plea.
"Too rough?" Before Spock could answer, Jim had already kissed it soothingly, hoping that would get a better response.
"Yes. No, I..." Spock squirmed. "More," he finally choked out, then squeezed his eyes shut as if he were ashamed of his request.
"Oh no," Jim muttered, stopping his oral exploration of Spock's chest. He swung a leg over him, straddling him and pressing more kisses along his jaw, his cheekbone, then into the worried creases at the corners of his eyes. "Open up. Look at me."
Spock started trembling again, his hands digging bruises into Jim's hip and scalp. "I..." He shook his head, fighting some sort of internal battle before opening his eyes, some of the anxiety in his expression making the slow slide into fear.
Jim was having none of that, kissing his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his upper lip. "You don't ever, ever feel bad about asking for something. Not ever. I'm a fish out of water here, Spock. I have no idea what makes a Vulcan feel good and even less of an idea of how to make you feel good without freaking you out. So if there's something you want me to do, you tell me."
Spock worked his mouth a few times, the fear slowly melting from his eyes. His fingers relaxed at the nape of Jim's neck so he was cradling him rather than bruising him when he pulled him down for another kiss. It started out tentative, began to build in intensity when Spock's lips opened under his and he licked at the seam of Jim's mouth. Just as Jim was opening to him to get a better taste of him, Spock broke the contact to look up at him. "So long as you will agree to those same terms," he murmured.
"Uh..." What had he been saying? He always felt dazed after Spock initiated a kiss. His underwear was starting to feel far too confining, his erection pressing against the bulge in Spock's trousers. "Yeah," he finally managed, his brain tripping over itself in an effort to catch up. "Although I'm not feeling all that picky right now. All I want is more of you."
"Yes," Spock agreed, not quite meeting his gaze as his hands drifted down Jim's back and cupped his backside, stilling there as if he didn't dare move any more than that.
But Jim shuddered as if Spock had groped at him obscenely - hell, for Spock it practically was obscene groping. "Can I-" he began to say, his voice going rough in the middle. He cleared it, nuzzling against the soft skin under Spock's ear when he tried again. "Can I take these off?" he asked, fingering the fastenings of Spock's pants.
Spock shifted restlessly underneath him. "You... You are aware of the anatomical differences between humans and Vulcans?"
Jim felt a blush burn up his cheeks. "I, uh. Actually, no. All I've got to work on here is what I could feel when we were up on the roof." He pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "But it seems to me we have pretty similar equipment, at least as far as I could tell from blindly touching you."
Silence lapsed between them, Spock doing that thing where he looked as if he were gathering strength for a battle he had no hope of winning. After an eternity of quiet, he took one of Jim's hands in his and led it to his waistband. "You may find it... surprising," he warned.
"Maybe," Jim agreed, pressing a trail of kisses down Spock's neck and chest until he was at eye-level with his groin. He licked at each new bit of skin he revealed as he unbuttoned the soft black trousers, nuzzling against the trail of fine hairs leading down, down...
"Christ, Spock," he whispered. "Do all Vulcans go commando or is it just you?"
"I do not..." Spock stuttered and trailed off as Jim pulled the pants down his hips and off his legs, leaving him laid utterly bare underneath him. "I do not... understand the phrase."
"No underwear," Jim explained breathlessly. He couldn't help his mesmerized stare. It was... well, decidedly greener than he had expected, but it got less weird the more he looked at it. It was also incredibly slick, fluid leaking from the slit as well as lubricating the rest of the shaft, though he couldn't quite puzzle out where the lubrication had come from. There was a fold of skin surrounding the base, flushed a deep olive color, and Jim couldn't figure that out, either. He also seemed to be lacking testicles and Jim wondered if they were internal.
"They are," Spock rasped, answering the unasked question. Jim realized he'd been digging his fingers into Spock's thighs as he tried to figure out his genitalia, and he blushed even deeper at being caught.
But as long as Spock was willing to volunteer information... "Are they in here?" he asked quietly, tracing a finger along the fold of skin at the base.
Spock shuddered, his hips jutting forward before he fought them back down to the bed. "No," he rasped. "But the sheath there is... sensitive."
"Obviously." He dipped his head to lick at it, groaning at the mildly bitter taste. "Where are they, then?"
Spock couldn't speak for a moment, his mouth opening and closing uselessly before he regained the power of speech. "The location is sim-similar to your own," he stuttered, his voice pitched lower than Jim had ever heard it before.
Jim wrapped one hand around Spock's shaft, Spock's hips jutting helplessly forward at the sensation. His other hand trailed under it, tracing the smooth skin along the base, then further back, further back, pressing against his perenium-
And almost being thrown off the bed from the force of Spock's bucking, laughing breathlessly as he pinned him back down to the blankets. "Also sensitive, I take it," he grinned, licking into the crease of Spock's thigh.
"Jim," Spock pleaded, the barest hint of a whine coloring his voice. "Jim, I... I want..." He was either unable or unwilling to verbalize the rest, spreading his legs and reaching down to tug at Jim's shoulders and neck.
"Me too," Jim whispered, scraping his teeth over Spock's ribs and along his side as he shifted back up to face him. "Fuck, Spock, me too." He was pulled into another drowning kiss, open mouthed and somewhat graceless but wet and perfect all the same. "Do you-" Jim began to say, distracted momentarily by an urgent need to suck on the point of his ear. "Can I?" he finally managed to ask, hoping Spock would understand.
Spock shuddered underneath him. "Yes," he whispered, slipping his fingers into the waistband of Jim's underwear and peeling them off his body.
Jim shifted enough to let him, reaching into a dresser drawer to retrieve a small bottle of lubricant. He had just popped the cap when there was slick, sudden pressure surrounding his cock. He gasped, fumbling the bottle and dropping it on the pillow, thrusting into the tight fist of Spock's hand where he had wrapped it around both of their cocks. "Holy shit, Spock, you gotta warn me before you do something like that."
"Lubrication is un-necessary," Spock's breath hitched halfway through the word, tilting his face upward to whisper the rest into Jim's ear. "Vulcans have superior muscle control. I am sufficiently relaxed."
Most of Jim was screaming at him to listen, to take what Spock was offering. But he shook his head, peppering kisses over Spock's face. "Vulcans also appear to be self-lubricating," he pointed out, then moaned when Spock's hand stroked over both their shafts. "I don't- Humans-" He was fast losing track of the conversation. "Don't wanna hurt you," he finally managed to get out.
"You will not." And the quiet confidence in Spock's voice was another shocking turn-on after having seen him so utterly distraught earlier.
"No. Not ever," Jim whispered, and maybe he was making the meaning of those words a little too deep, but he didn't care. He set about proving himself by kissing over his throat, under his jaw, pressing his lips against a pointed ear as he shifted himself out of Spock's grasp. He was slick where Spock had stroked their cocks together, and he resisted the urge to thrust forward through sheer force of will. "Okay?" he asked, the head of his cock nudging up against his entrance.
There was still a faint trace of anxiety in Spock's eyes, but he shifted until he had one leg hooked over Jim's hip, spreading the other open in blatant invitation. "Yes."
Jim pushed forward, intending to take his time to ensure Spock was comfortable with penetration after over a year of celibacy. But Spock had apparently given him a massive understatement, because not only was he relaxed enough to allow entry, he dug his fingers into Jim's ass and pulled him in. In a rush of slick heat, Jim was buried balls-deep in him, smothering a cry in Spock's shoulder and hoping he wouldn't come instantly and humiliate himself.
As he collected the shreds of his self-control, he became aware of a low rumbling noise coming from somewhere. He looked down at Spock, took in the closed eyes, the parted lips, the quiet vibrations of sound echoing from...
"Are you purring?"
Spock's eyes cracked open, somehow managing to look both lustful and indignant. "I am not."
"You are," Jim insisted, grinning down at him. "Like a goddamn cat. Do all Vulcans do that or is it j-nngh," he moaned, his question forgotten because Spock had used some of that superior muscle control to squeeze around his shaft. Jim thrust forward instinctively, dropping his forehead to rest against Spock's and trying to steady himself again. "That wasn't fair."
"Jim," Spock didn't quite whine at him, cupping his jaw in those long, elegant fingers and pressing their mouths together.
Jim swallowed down the rest of the purr, tongue delving into Spock's mouth to chase the feel and flavor of it as he began to rock his hips in a deep, steady rhythm. He let himself go for long minutes, drowning in the rhythm of their bodies together, the desperate, suckling quality of their kisses, the way Spock's body opened to his and embraced it, the rumbling emanating from his chest.
He was fast approaching his climax, pulling back from the kiss to make sure Spock was there, too. The moment their lips parted, he had his answer. "You're... not..." he gasped between thrusts.
Spock looked just as lost as Jim felt. "I..." He shook his head, looking up at Jim helplessly.
He was hard, at least; Jim could feel the slick length of him pressed between their bodies. He was simply nowhere near as close as Jim was. "What do you need?" he breathed over his lips, slowing his thrusts to get an answer out of him.
Spock closed his eyes momentarily, and Jim hated that it was such a battle for him to ask for what he wanted. But seconds later there was a hand grabbing for one of his, fingers still slick from Spock's natural lubrication. Spock laced their fingers together and squeezed gently, explaining himself through actions rather than words. Jim gave a hesitant squeeze back.
And watched in shock as Spock arched under him, only adding to the feline characteristics he'd displayed that night. "Holy shit," Jim whispered, belatedly remembering what both Gaila and Uhura had told him about the importance of hands to a Vulcan. He rocked his hips against Spock's, squeezing his hand at the same time, groaning at the look of ecstasy slowly taking over Spock's face. "Fuck, yes," he muttered against his shoulder. "Can you come like this? Want you to come, Spock, wanna feel you fall apart, wanna see you put yourself back together just like this..." His mouth was running away with him as it always did when an orgasm was looming.
"Jim," Spock gasped, and it seemed to be a mantra, one of the only words he could choke out as they moved against each other. His free hand flailed in the air for a moment, almost reaching for him before Spock consciously jerked it back into the pillows, gazing up at Jim with a plea for understanding in his eyes.
It took Jim a moment to get it, eyes lighting up when realization dawned. "Yes," he whispered, pressing his forehead to Spock's again. "Do it. Please. I want you to. Want you to see how you make me feel, how much I... How much..."
And before he could find the words to verbalize what he meant, there were scorching fingertips pressed to his jaw, his cheek, his temple. Spock was saying something but he couldn't comprehend it, and he wondered if Spock had lapsed into his native language-
His wondering was interrupted by a sudden maelstrom of love lust desire want Jim yes Jim please close want Jim Jim Jim and the words danced and melded with his own yes Spock please love you want you mine please let go let go let me see you...
It was difficult to really see Spock as his head fell back, as his back arched further, as his legs squeezed around Jim's hips while he groaned and shuddered, the thick ropes of come spilling so hotly between them that Jim could have sworn he was being scalded. He could only distantly grasp the physical sensations, his mind warping higher and higher into a psychic plane humans were unable to access. He knew he was coming with him, could feel his orgasm thundering through him as he thrust into Spock and stilled there, but the physical sensations were secondary to the warm thrumming of thoughts sifting between them. His body shuddered and collapsed onto Spock, his mind full of warmth, affection, belonging, safety as it began to drift away from him. He tried to hold onto it, tried desperately to remain within that serene, welcoming embrace.
He found himself slipping into a sleepy stupor, enveloped by the presence of Spock, friend, brother, lover.... He had just enough presence of mind to hear the echo of a word he did not recognize before he was lost to the pull of unconsciousness.
To Chapter Twenty Four
(no subject)
Date: 2010-04-23 02:04 pm (UTC)