Jim Kirk sat on
the floor in front of the fire, arms pulling his knees to his chest. Lost in
his loneliness and pain, he barely saw the dancing flames. He was in
Spock was alive
again, restored by Genesis and the fal-tor-pan.
The moment that Spock's katra was restored to his
body, Kirk felt it like a sizzling spark in his mind. Nothing in his life
compared to the second of joy he knew when he felt Spock's restoration. On the
heels of joy came blinding pain, as the numbness of Spock's absence gave way to
the aching *wrongness* of a bond half restored. Kirk felt as though he were
bleeding to death, hemorrhaging out his life and his soul through the ripped
remains of the once vital bond. The mental disciplines Spock taught him were
all he had to get through the next day, the next hour, the next minute...
They returned to
Earth, they went back in time, they saved the whales. They saved everyone. He
and Spock were friends again, comfortable with each other.
Just
friends. Just comfortable. Kirk rested his head on his knees, holding
back tears. He should be happy, dammit. Spock was
alive.
He wanted, *needed*,
his bondmate back, not just his friend. He didn't
want to force anything or to put pressure on Spock. He knew that if he told
Spock what they had been to each other, Spock would allow him to ... He
shuddered. He didn't want to be *allowed* to love Spock, to make love to him,
as though it were a duty the Vulcan were tolerating. He needed Spock to need him, to want him as
fiercely as he wanted Spock. Sometimes it was too much to bear having Spock
close enough to touch while his own soul still bled away into nothingness.
Jim lifted his
head and looked around the room. The house felt large and empty. Dead. The only light, the only warmth, was from the fire in
front of him.
He walked to the
window and watched the snow fall over the farm. After some considerable time staring,
he saw the distinctive sparkles of someone transporting into the courtyard.
Before the figure fully materialized, he recognized Spock.
He rushed to the
door and threw it open, calling out, "Spock, come inside before you freeze!"
A painful mixture of elation and sorrow squeezed his heart and moistened his
eyes.
Spock walked
quickly to the house, shoulders set stiffly, his breath pluming in the frosty
air. "Admiral, I am pleased I found you here."
After he was
inside and the door shut against the cold, Jim asked, "Is there some
emergency? Why wasn't I contacted by communicator?"
Spock shook his
head. "There is no emergency. I wish to speak with you."
Kirk raised his
eyes to meet Spock's. "What can I do for you?" He tried to keep hope
and longing out of his voice, out of his heart. He led Spock over to the fire,
inviting him to sit on the soft, woolen blanket in front of it. "I
apologize. I wasn't expecting visitors and didn't turn on the house's power
system. All we have for heat is the fire."
"It is
adequate." Spock knelt on the blanket and stared into the fire.
"Admiral...Jim, I would like to know the nature of our relationship before
my death." Kirk's breath caught, the memory of Spock dying in the reactor
room, and the agony of their bond being ripped from him, slammed back. He
gasped softly. Spock didn't appear to notice. "When my katra
was restored to my body, I immediately felt you. I knew you, even when I did
not know my parents. I do not know why. The
healers helped me regain my memories but much was passed over. I believe that
many memories have been left locked away until the healing process has
proceeded to a point where I am capable of assimilating the information."
Jim was wary.
Not of Spock, who would never intentionally hurt him, but of his own need, his own longing. He
was wary of hope, which could cut as sharply as knives. "Do you remember
anything about us? About me?"
"We've
known each other for 20.68 years. I remember ..." Spock paused, his eyes
closed. He steepled his fingers, deep in thought.
"Your arrival on the
Jim returned the
look without blinking, tense in every muscle, forcing himself to be still.
"Is that all you remember, Spock?"
"Admiral, I
could recount for you the records of every mission ..." Spock stopped.
"But ..."
Jim watched
Spock's face and could read the almost infinitesimal signs of frustration that
he knew from a lifetime of studying that beloved face. "But what?" he
whispered, softly.
For an infinite
moment Spock sat silent. "But ... I feel the most important part of my
past is contained in the memories that are still locked away. I have been
warned that I could cause myself injury if I force the issue. However, I
thought if you could tell me what you remember, I could learn what is missing
without danger to myself."
Jim was quiet
for a moment. Spock was asking him to give voice to his agony, to speak out
loud what he could hardly bear to contemplate in the screaming silence of his
own heart. "I will," Jim said, not even able to think of refusing.
"But please understand that we don't need to have the same relationship
now that we had then. I don't want anything from you that you're not willing to
give."
Spock raised an
eyebrow.
Jim drew in a
deep breath and expelled it, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He dropped his hands back into his lap and said
matter-of-factly, "We were bondmates for
fourteen years." Spock shoulders
jerked and his eyes widened. "You
are my t'hy'la and I was yours..." A tear slid
down his cheek. Spock's fingers twitched, but Jim wiped the moisture away.
"Our bond was strong. You once told me that we seemed like one soul with
two bodies. Making love with you....," Jim paused, gathering himself, and
continued, "was as essential as breathing or eating to me. And, I think,
to you. You loved me." He fell silent, not caring about the tears rolling
over his cheeks. He slumped, his head falling onto his raised knees, and wrapped
his arms around himself, trying to warm the chill in his heart.
"My mother
once said that without emotion memory loses perspective," Spock whispered.
"You have told me of the emotions I held for you but I don't feel them
now. I merely know the words." His hands clenched into fists on his knees.
"This is intolerable. My balance is lost and it pains me. I must be who I
was," Spock stared into the fire, "but I don't know how."
In a soft voice,
Jim asked, "What would happen if we attempted a mind meld? Would it be
dangerous?"
Spock looked at
Jim with hooded eyes. "Possibly. I am not fully
recovered and my discipline is not what it should be. We could both be hurt."
He steepled his forefingers together again and rested
his chin on them. "For myself, I am willing to accept the risk. I find
this half life unbearable."
Jim ached to
hear Spock speak his pain so bluntly. He reached out and gently touched Spock's
hands. "I will do anything for you, Spock."
Spock nodded and
reached toward the meld points on Jim's face, fingers spread, and paused inches
from contact. "Jim, I
am ... afraid."
Jim's gaze
locked with Spock's own lost one. "Me too. Do
it." He leaned into Spock's fingers. Spock breathed deeply, closed his
eyes, and said the ancient words.
Jim was back in
the reactor room, Spock dying in front of him. He felt again the physical,
mental and spiritual anguish of their bond ripping apart at the moment of
Spock's death. The shock of pain rocked them both. Somewhere, one of them, or
perhaps both, screamed, "No! Don't leave me!" Jagged shards of memories swirled chaotically
about them, a whirlwind of experiences from one and a hail of inchoate emotions
from the other forming a seething maelstrom. Through it all, Jim could sense
Spock's lifeforce, separated from him by the barrier
of their mutual agony.
"SPOCK!"
Jim flailed,
needing to reach him somehow, needing him more than ever, but never had Spock's
mind been so disordered! He realized that the careful barriers left by the
healers were tumbling down all at once. Spock's unprotected spirit was being buffeted
by the chaos, buried under the shards like the devastating sandstorms of Vulcan
swallowing whole outposts.
"Jim?"
Jim snarled and
struggled against the soulwinds shaking them both.
His aura flared with fierce determination. He 'looked' down at his naked
metaphysical body, the light almost too bright to bear. He flung one golden arm
out into the chaos. "Spock! Take my hand!!" He reached with every battered sense he had,
straining to find Spock, finding nothing but the storm. "SPOCK!" He saw something. A blue spark...growing...until Jim realized a
hand glowing with brilliant blue fire parted the darkness, reaching for his
own. He reached with everything within
him. Spock's face appeared, violet flames in his eyes
as he grasped Jim's hand. "I have found you, t'hy'la."
Spock pulled them together and calm enveloped them...the eye of the storm
cradled their spirits....as they hung in the vaults of their minds, pillars of
flame, golden and cerulean, intertwined.
The painful
emptiness inside both of them was replaced with a rushing stream of love and
need and belonging that flowed between them like a great current. Kirk felt
along the newly reforming bond, reaching for Spock, finding him in a blaze of
ecstasy.
Jim's love,
longing, desire, admiration, adoration, and respect, surged through the mind
touch, tangled up with memories of the two of them, playing chess, Spock
injured on Gamma Trianguli VI, Kirk confessing his
love, Spock's departure for Gol, V'Ger,
the joy of the first time they made love...
Spock's
answering memories poured forth, clasping hands with Kirk in sickbay, a shore
leave on Vulcan, a special evening at their house in San Francisco...as the
memories flowed between them faster and faster it became impossible to tell who
was producing them. Jim never knew which of them brought forth the memory of
their bonding.
They pulled out
of the meld slowly. Jim opened his eyes and looked at Spock. The black
eyelashes were spiky with gathered tears. The corners of Jim's eyes crinkled
with a tiny smile, though his own eyes were wet as well. He sent a pulse of
love along the newly reborn bond and Spock gasped slightly, his eyes holding
his pleasure and rejoicing.
Jim spoke,
softly, "Parted from me and never parted."
"Never and
always touching and touched," Spock said, completing the ritual pledge. His
eyes searched Jim's face. "From the moment I saw you, I knew you should be
mine. I have been drawn to you, yet it has been painful to have you near. I now
understand why these things are so"
Kirk closed his
eyes. "Painful? I'm sorry."
When he felt hot
fingers gently stroking his cheek, Kirk's eyes flew open. Spock shook his head
very slightly. "Don't be sorry, Jim. I lost you just as surely as you lost
me." Spock's fingers traced over
Kirk's lips. "And I have suffered as well. Though not as
much as you, I think. I did not know what I had lost, at least, just
that I had lost something ... essential."
Spock pressed
his lips against Jim's, a soft, delicate kiss that was over before Jim could
react to it. Spock spoke softly, "I love thee, t'hy'la."
Eyes glittering
with gathered tears, Jim replied, "And I love thee."
Spock kissed him
again, long and lingering. Kirk leaned forward into the kiss -- the feel of
Spock's mouth opening to him and their tongues touching took thought away from
him in a dazzling rush of joy. Suddenly, instantly, he was fully hard. He
moaned and, without letting their lips part for a moment, pushed Spock back
until he was laying on the blanket with Jim pressed up against his side.
One hand opened
Spock's uniform jacket, while the other wrapped around Spock's head and
fingered an ear tip. Spock made a small noise in his throat at the touch and
reached a hand up to Jim's waist, sliding under his sweater and stroking the
soft skin he found there.
The warm fingers
accompanied by cold air made Jim inhale sharply at the contact and he pulled
away from the kiss. "Spock. You'll be cold here. We should..." He
stopped with a gasp when Spock's fingers found a nipple and pinched sharply.
"You will
keep me warm, t'hy'la," Spock said softly, his
lips moving across Jim's with the words, sending a shiver through Jim's body.
Jim moaned and pressed into another kiss. He had been starving for Spock's
kisses for months and each one was like a feast.
Kirk helped
Spock sit up and removed his jacket and, breaking the kiss for a lonely second,
his turtleneck shirt. He ran his fingertips down Spock's chest, from the hollow
at the base of the throat to the waistband of his pants; it was a simple
caress, but it made Spock moan and arch up toward him. Kirk smiled at the
unexpected reaction and repeated the touch with a long, slow glide of his
tongue. Kirk savored the taste and feel of Spock's
skin, softer than he remembered it being.
"Ohhh, Jim." Spock cried as his hands clutched at the
blanket underneath them as he fought for control. Jim nibbled along the edge of
Spock's ribcage and then up to an olive nipple. When his teeth grazed the hard
bud, nipping gently, Spock groaned and his head thrashed from side to side.
Jim pulled away
and smiled, one hand supporting his weight and the other resting gently on Spock's
belly. He could feel Spock's panting breaths and the muscles twitching under
his hand. Jim leaned down and licked an elegant ear from soft lobe to firm
point, then whispered, "You're so sensitive." He began exploring the
shape of Spock's ear with lips and tongue and slid his hand from Spock's belly
down, over his trousers, to the hard cock straining against the fabric.
Spock raised his
hips to press himself more firmly into Kirk's hand, making a small noise in the
back of his throat. Jim abandoned the tempting ear to kiss his way along the
tendons in the long neck, gave a swirling lick in the hollow at the base of
Spock's neck, and then peppered kisses over a firm, black-furred pectoral. Each touch, each lick, each
kiss brought a new sound from Spock, moans and pants and small mewing noises,
like a kitten.
The noises drove
Kirk wild and he suddenly needed *more*. He sat up abruptly and tore off the
rest of Spock's clothes and his own and lay down full length on top of his
lover. They both groaned at the joy of their skin touching over their whole
bodies and began simultaneously to thrust against each other. Very quickly,
Spock shouted and his cock throbbed and shot his cum between their bellies.
Jim bit the
inside of his cheek to stop his own orgasm. Gathering up Spock's hot fluid Jim
coated his cock and his fingers and began to stretch Spock's opening. He
gripped his cock hard, backing his arousal down a notch, and forced himself to remember that, no matter how familiar, this was a
virgin body he was preparing to enter. He was as thorough as possible, gently
stretching the hard muscle with his fingers until Spock moaned and pushed back
against him.
Kirk groaned at
that and lifted Spock's knees, spreading and opening him, and pressed his cock
into Spock's passage, almost overwhelmed by the gripping heat and tightness. He
entered slowly, with short thrusts, until he was fully seated. He looked down
at Spock laying under him, his face completely open in passion and began to
thrust deep and hard.
Spock moved in
his mind as he moved in the Vulcan's body and they shared their sensations and
emotions. He was surrounded and supported by Spock's love and the joy that they
both felt was like a bottomless ocean. Jim could feel himself moving inside
Spock, and could feel himself being penetrated and filled. He felt his own
bliss, and Spock's. The pleasure multiplying as it flowed between them.
It was more than
Jim could take, emotionally and physically, and he thrust into Spock once,
twice and came screaming, "Spock!!". He felt
Spock shudder under him and come again with a wordless cry. He felt the shudder
and the orgasm as though in his own body.
They rested in
each others bodies and minds, being healed by the flow of energy and life
between them, recovering from their wounds. They slowly returned to themselves
and held each other close. No words were necessary, all that they needed to
know flowed between them through the bond.
When Jim felt
Spock tensing with the effort of not shivering with the cold, he got up and fed
the fire. Spock's warm brown eyes watched as Kirk gathered their clothes and cleaned
them both off with a soft cloth. The touch of the washcloth on Spock's stomach
caused the muscles there to bunch and twitch.
Kirk smiled,
then stood and started pulling on his clothes. "Spock, you've never been
so sensitive before."
Spock nodded and
picked up his shirt, but did not put it on. "Indeed. The climate of
Genesis was milder than that of Vulcan." He moved closer to the fire for
the warmth and considered. "I would
speculate that formerly my skin was toughened by the sun, wind, and heat of the
desert."
Jim sat down
behind Spock and wrapped his arms around the lean chest. Jim idly ran a finger
down Spock's side. Spock let out the slightest of moans and Jim chuckled.
"I like it."
"I, too,
find the sensation most pleasant," Spock said, resting his head on Jim's
shoulder and relaxing into his arms.
Jim held his bondmate tightly to him and his soul soared with Spock's on
their joy. He sent a wave of love through the bond and felt Spock's own love in
response. He looked around the house, marveling at how alive it seemed now,
almost humming with potential and energy. All was as it should be.