Even after years of living and working with humans, Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise was frequently at a loss to deal with their emotions. This was such a time. His captain, his friend, was grieving, and Spock was expected to help him deal with his pain. Spock felt that he was perhaps the last being in the galaxy able to offer comfort to someone mourning a dead love. Vulcans do not mourn their dead, because they are never truly lost. As long as the katra (the soul as humans would call it) survives, the dead are only in a different place, a place that can be reached through meditation and contemplation.
There are those who would also argue that a Vulcan cannot offer solace for a dead love because Vulcans do not love. Spock knew that was a lie. He knew from painful experience that the Vulcan heart can love, even when that love is hopeless.
However, his needs were not the issue here. Jim Kirk, his captain and the only man who had ever come close to breaking his Vulcan shell, was grieving, and Spock was determined to do what he could to help.
Cynus IV was a bucolic little world, completely off the beaten track, as the humans would say. Its inhabitants, largely herders and small farmers, made extra money by renting small cottages to Star Fleet officers in need of rest and relaxation, as opposed to recreation.
Jim Kirk was certainly in the former category. It had been a terrible year. The Enterprise had faced one danger after another, and again and again, Kirk had been forced to make the tough decisions, sometimes losing crew members and always just barely saving his ship. He had lost his brother Sam to a plague on Deneva. Then he had gone into the past to find and save a delirious McCoy, who had stumbled through a portal known as the Guardian of Forever. Once in Earth’s past, Kirk had fallen in love with Edith Keeler, an extraordinary young woman in 1930’s New York. However, Spock, who accompanied Kirk on his mission, had discovered through his research that Edith, a peace activist, was meant to die in a car accident before she became nationally prominent. If Kirk did as his heart demanded, if he saved her life, Edith’s new influence would change history. The Nazis would conquer the world, and spaceflight on Earth would never happen. The entire galaxy would be changed because of one act of love. So Kirk had done what he had to do; he prevented McCoy, who had also met Edith, from saving her life. He had stood by and watched as a truck hit Edith and killed her. He had borne McCoy’s reproaches and buried his love in his heart.
Only weeks later, Kirk had been captured by the Goranitons, a race hostile to the Federation and allied with the Klingons. The Goranitons, at the bidding of their Klingon masters, had tortured Kirk, trying to force him to give up important Command information, including security codes. Their methods were simple—beating, escalating to a form of the bastinado, an ancient Earth practice whereby the soles of the feet were beaten until the skin was flayed away. By the time Spock and the security team had rescued him, Kirk was completely unable to walk, his feet swollen and bloody. McCoy had spent days regenerating the flesh, but Kirk still walked with some difficulty, and the new skin was thin and tender.
However, far worse than the physical injuries was the mental toll. Jim Kirk had always been able to bounce back, always ready and eager for the next adventure. Now, he seemed tentative, almost unsure, and the entire crew felt it. With the full backing of Star Fleet Medical, Dr. McCoy ordered Kirk to rest—and ordered Spock to take care of him.
“Doctor,” Spock had protested during his quiet conversation with McCoy, “I am willing to do whatever I can, but I am not sure I am the right person to help the Captain with mental or emotional problems. Surely a friend such as yourself—“
“He won’t open up with me, Spock,” McCoy had replied. “He thinks he has to be James T. Kirk, bigger than life and twice as tough. He needs you, more than he’ll ever admit—and more than you’re willing to acknowledge.”
Spock stiffened. “I do not know what you mean,” he said quietly, too quietly.
McCoy gave him a shrewd look. “Oh, really? Look, Spock, under normal circumstances, I’d rather rip out my own tongue than say what I’m about to say, but Jim’s needs are too important. You love him, Spock. You know it; I know it; it’s time that Jim knows it.”
For a long moment, Spock was silent. He had been certain, so certain, that his feelings were completely hidden. But McCoy always had been too perceptive for his own good.
“Assuming your hypothesis is correct,” he finally said, “do you really think Jim would welcome such knowledge?”
McCoy’s eyes softened. He hadn’t missed Spock’s reference to ‘Jim,’ a name he only used under great provocation. “Spock,” he replied, as gently as McCoy ever spoke, “he needs to know. Now more than ever, he needs to know that there is one person in the universe who loves him completely, one person who will never hurt him, one person who will never leave him. He needs to lean on you, and he won’t do that unless he knows, deep in his soul, that he can.” He got up from behind his desk. “We’re dropping the two of you off on Cynus IV, and you’ve got two weeks to help him heal.”
So it was that the two of them beamed down to the coordinates of the cabin McCoy had rented for them, a small pile of luggage and supplies having gone before. Kirk looked around at the peaceful, landscaped grounds, with the small cottage at the center. Behind the cottage stretched a small lake, with two more cottages on the other side, their closest neighbors. Both buildings were empty at the moment. The two Star Fleet officers were completely alone.
“Great,” Kirk said in disgust, looking around. “I ought to kick McCoy for this. Stuck here like a house plant for the next two weeks. What am I supposed to do?”
Rest and heal, Spock thought, with my help, but he didn’t say it. “It seems very…nice,” Spock replied. Frankly, he had never been attracted to the rural life, but he knew McCoy was right. Kirk needed peace, fresh air, and the companionship of someone who loved him, even if Kirk didn’t know it. Spock opened the cottage door.
“Come,” he said. “Let us look around.”
By sunset, the two men were settled in. Despite Kirk’s initial reaction, the cottage was quite comfortable, with a large main room, kitchen, two bedrooms separated by a short hallway, and bath. There was even a terrace out back with a hot tub on it that overlooked the lake. Spock hoped that he’d be able to persuade Kirk to use it at some point.
After a simple meal, Kirk wandered around the main room, obviously restless and at loose ends, just another indication, if Spock needed one, that all was not well. Jim Kirk was almost never bored. Spock had suggested the hot tub or a game of 2-dimensional chess, but Kirk seemed indifferent. Jim glanced out the window.
“I think I’ll take a walk around the lake,” he said.
“Jim, your feet…” Spock got no further.
“Damn it, Spock, don’t you start,” Jim snapped. “I’ve heard enough about my feet from McCoy. I’m fine.” He headed out the door, barely managing not to slam it as he went. From the window, Spock watched, worried, as Kirk headed down the path. However, he didn’t walk. He simply stood by the lake, staring across the water as the sun finished setting and the smaller of the planet’s two moons rose. Spock was relieved that Kirk was not putting undue stress on his still-healing feet, but he was also worried. If Jim Kirk said he was going for a walk, he walked. Seeing him so listless worried Spock, but he knew that if he pressed the issue, Jim would simply withdraw further into himself. Spock stepped back from the window as Kirk glanced up at the cabin. He decided he would brew some tea and give Jim time to himself.
Kirk had finally come in very late and gone to bed. Cynus IV had 15-hour nights, so there was little else to do during the long, dark hours. Spock stayed awake, meditating for a time and then reading. Suddenly, he heard a cry.
In a flash, Spock was out of his chair and down the hall. He knocked on Kirk’s door.
“Jim? Jim, are you all right?” For a moment, there was no answer. Then he heard Kirk’s voice.
“I’m…I’m fine, Spock. Just a bad dream.”
Spock hesitated for a moment. “Can I…is there something I can do?”
“No.” Kirk’s voice was quiet and resigned. “No, Spock. Just go back to bed. Good night.”
Spock slowly turned away from the closed door. “Good night, Jim,” he said softly. Good night, my love.
The next morning, Kirk didn’t mention his nightmare. Spock did his best to coax Jim out into the sun, but Kirk spent most of the day lying on the sofa, staring out the window. He ate very little breakfast and no lunch at all, but when Spock gently suggested that he might like something, Kirk brusquely announced that he was not hungry. By evening, Spock was almost out of ideas, but he kept trying. He did manage to persuade Kirk to eat some dinner, but once the meal was over, Kirk once again left and stood by the lake for a long time. When he finally came in, Spock decided it was time to confront the issue.
“Jim,” he said quietly, “I do not wish to pry.”
“Then don’t.” Kirk sat down on the couch and stared out the window. Spock rose from his chair and moved to the sofa, sitting next to Kirk.
“Jim,” he tried again. “Dr. McCoy sent us here because you are still not well. You need to eat, rest, and…talk. You are doing none of these. Please, Jim. You know I only want to help.”
“Yes,” Kirk replied bitterly. “Everyone wants to help. Do you know why everyone wants to help? Because Star Fleet has a fortune invested in me, and they want a return on their investment. That’s what this is all about. The brass at Headquarters are worried they won’t get their money’s worth from James Kirk, the wonder captain. They’re putting pressure on McCoy, and he’s dumped the problem off on you.” He looked up at Spock, his eyes angry. “Well, I don’t care anymore. I’m not going to drink my milk, take my nap, and confide in my First Officer, the amateur psychiatrist, just so Command can be happy.” His shoulders slumped, and he looked at the floor. “No one cares,” he said, his voice almost inaudible. “No one really cares. They all just want their hero back again.”
Spock couldn’t stand it. He laid his hand on Jim’s shoulder, trying not to feel hurt when the human shrugged it off. “Jim,” he said as gently as he could, “that is not true. You are…loved. Many people love you.” For a moment, Spock prayed that Jim would turn to face him, that he would read the truth Spock knew was showing in his eyes. But Kirk simply turned away.
“Yeah, but they’re all dead.” He moved to the bedroom. “I’m going to bed.”
The door closed behind him. Spock stood looking at it for a long time, every instinct telling him to go after Kirk, but he could not. Jim wasn’t ready. Jim was too raw.
With a sigh, Spock finally turned and went into his own room, knowing he would sleep very little that night.
“No! Oh, God, Edith, no!”
Kirk’s cry echoed through the cottage, waking Spock instantly. He hurried into Kirk’s room, letting the light from the hallway illuminate his way. The human, who had fallen asleep fully dressed, was tossing and moaning on his bed, his heartbroken cry still ringing in Spock’s ears. The nightmares were not fading; they were growing worse. Spock could take no more. He sat down on the edge of Kirk’s bed and pulled his friend into his arms, holding him close and stroking the bright hair as Kirk, still more than half asleep, nestled into the strong, loving embrace with a sigh of relief.
“Spock,” Kirk whispered. “Spock, she left me. They all leave me. Don’t leave me, too.”
Spock’s heart all but broke at the sound of Kirk’s whispered plea. “No,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “I will not leave you, Jim. It is all right, ashaya. I am here.” Greatly daring, he let his lips brush across the cool human brow, savoring the fleeting feel of Jim’s skin against his mouth. How Spock longed to lie down on this bed with Jim and let his hands, his lips, and his body soothe all the pain, banish all the nightmares forever. But Jim wasn’t ready; perhaps he would never be ready, and Spock would not ask for more than Jim could give. He simply held Kirk close, letting his warmth seep into the human’s chilled flesh, letting Jim lean on him, as always, asking nothing in return. The privilege of holding the beloved body so close to his own was—almost—enough for Spock.
Kirk’s head lay heavily on Spock’s shoulder, his body limp in Spock’s arms. Spock thought he had fallen asleep, and he gently laid Jim back down on his pillow, reaching for the blanket to pull over him, only to be stopped by the sound of Kirk’s voice.
“Spock? What does…ashaya…mean?”
Sock froze, his tension instantly communicating itself to Kirk, who sat up again, his eyes opening as he took in the sight of his first officer and friend sitting paralyzed at the edge of his bed.
“Ashaya,” Kirk repeated. “You just said it, a little while ago. Is it a Vulcan word? What does it mean?”
Spock tried to think. He could lie, but Jim Kirk was no fool, and he knew how to use a computer. If Spock lied and Jim caught him, matters would be worse than ever. In a flash, he decided to tell part of the truth.
“It…it is an endearment, Jim,” he said quietly. “I am sorry; it was inappropriate. I was simply trying to…to comfort you.” He rose and took a step back. “If you are all right now, I will…”
“Spock.” The single word stopped the Vulcan in his tracks. “I asked you a question,” Kirk said quietly, but with an undertone Spock didn’t recognize. “What does the word ashaya mean?”
Spock closed his eyes, the pain threatening to tear through him. It was too late for safety. Perhaps it had always been too late.
“It means…’beloved,’ Jim,” he said, his voice equally quiet. He forced himself to look at his friend and caught a glimpse of something that for a moment made his heart beat faster with hopeful anticipation. Then it was gone, and Kirk’s face was completely blank.
“Beloved. Is that how you think of me?”
Spock shuddered slightly, the tension leaving his body limp as he realized the enormity of his slip. “Yes,” he replied, still quietly. “It is how I think of you, when I let myself think of you. I…I love you, and I have for a long time.”
For one more instant, Kirk simply looked at him. Then his face darkened.
“A long time? A long time?” he cried out. “You bastard!” He rose from his bed and before Spock could even think, Kirk hit him full across the face, hard enough to sting, hard enough to bruise.
“You son of a bitch!” Kirk yelled. “That’s why you did it! That’s why you kept me from saving her, why you made me stop McCoy from saving her. Oh, I see it now!” He turned and paced across the room, bitterness in every line of his body, before he swung around to face the shocked Vulcan again. “You told me, ’Captain, Edith Keeler must die,’ she was going to destroy the world if she lived, according to you!”
“Jim, it was true.” Spock took a step forward, cringing mentally as Kirk backed away like a trapped animal.
“Don’t come near me!” he hissed. “You wanted her to die! You didn’t want the competition! You let her die, the woman I loved; you made me kill her…” he choked and stopped, swaying where he stood.
“Jim, please.” Spock tried to keep his voice reasonable, his manner open and reassuring. “I did not want her to die. If we could have saved her…”
“I could have saved her!” Kirk cried. “I could have saved her, and we could have been happy, and you ruined it. God damn you to Hell, Spock, damn your miserable, jealous cold-blooded heart!” He whirled and stormed out of the room.
“Jim! Jim, please…” Spock called. It was too late. In the distance, Spock heard the front door slam. Jim was gone into the night, barefoot and without a jacket.
It was the hardest decision Spock ever made, not to go after him.
Spock cursed the 15-hour nights on Cynus IV a dozen times in the next six hours and thirty-four minutes. He knew that Kirk was reasonably safe; there were no large predators, and the climate was temperate. Spock also knew that if he went after Kirk with matters as they were, the two would only fight again, or Kirk would withdraw even more than he had. But the human’s feet were newly healed, and he had not even bothered to put on shoes. He should not be out there alone. He could fall; he could hit his head; he could…drown himself in the lake.
Sternly, Spock ordered himself to control his overactive imagination. Kirk was angry and upset, but he was not the kind of man to drown himself. It was far more likely that he would come back, lock himself in his room, and refuse to see or speak to Spock for the remainder of their stay.
Perhaps…perhaps he would never forgive Spock for what he perceived to be Spock’s role in Edith’s death. Spock had not lied; all of his information had plainly showed that Edith Keeler, left alive, would have spearheaded an organization whose influence would have delayed the United States’ entry into World War Two. This would have given the Nazis the time and tools they needed to win and completely destroy the world Jim Kirk knew. But would Kirk ever believe him? Would Kirk ever trust him again? I have not only lost any chance at his love, Spock thought miserably, not that I ever had a real chance, but he will never be my friend again. The very thought sent waves of anguish through him, a pain that Spock knew no amount of meditation would ever erase. And still Jim did not come back. Spock could only sit and wait.
Finally, after more than six hours, the door opened again. Spock had been sitting on the sofa, a single lamp burning, hoping against hope that Kirk would return and Spock could try again to reach him. He looked up to see Jim standing in the doorway, swaying on unsteady feet. Kirk looked at his friend, his face drawn with fatigue and pain.
“Bones is going to kill me,” he muttered. “My feet…” He all but collapsed, but Spock was there to catch him. Kirk was unconscious even before Spock carried him across the room and placed him on the sofa. He hastily covered Kirk with a blanket and turned on another lamp so he could inspect the human’s feet. His breath caught in his throat at the sight. The newly regenerated skin was bruised, split, and torn from hours of walking. Quickly, Spock got the first aid kit, blessing McCoy’s usual single-minded thoroughness. Gently, carefully, Spock cleaned the abused flesh and smoothed a pain-killing antiseptic salve over the injuries before wrapping the feet in layers of soft gauze. Kirk never stirred. Spock considered carrying him to his room, but the couch was wide and comfortable, and after what had happened, Spock was not sure he could ever bring himself to go into Jim’s room again. He covered Kirk with a second blanket, tucking it in carefully around the bandaged feet. He put the medical supplies away and thought about going to his own room. When Kirk finally woke, he probably wouldn’t want to see Spock. However, after a moment, Spock decided to stay. Jim might need something, or he might wake in pain. Spock simply laid himself down on the rug near the sofa and let his mind go blank. He knew he would not sleep, but at least he could rest. Jim was safe.
Spock sat up and looked around. It was nearly dawn; the thin gray light was beginning to seep in through cracks in the shutters. Jim was sitting up on the sofa, looking down at him. Spock quickly rose to his feet.
“Are you all right, Jim?” he asked quietly.
“Of course,” Kirk said reassuringly. He swung his feet off the couch and indicated the empty space. “Here, you don’t need to lie on the floor.” Spock regarded the spot in silence. “Spock, please,” Kirk said quietly. “I want to talk to you.” With a small sigh, Spock lowered himself into the couch. For a few moments, the two men simply looked at each other.
“Why were you sleeping on the floor?”
Whatever Spock had expected, it wasn’t that. “I…I thought you might need…”
“You thought I might need you, so you spent the night on the floor. It’s never about your needs or even your comfort, is it? It’s always about my selfishness, my neediness.” Kirk looked at his folded hands. “Spock, I am sorry.”
“There is no need.”
“Yes, there is.” Kirk looked up, meeting his friend’s gaze. “I am sorry, but that’s not enough. I had a lot of time to think last night while I was out walking around that lake. I was rotten to you, which has been my habit lately. You have been my strength all these weeks, Hell, all the years I’ve known you. Ever since we returned from the Guardian, you’ve done everything you can to make me feel better. You rescued me from those thugs; you brought me here and waited on me so tenderly; no one could have done more. In return, I’ve treated you worse than I’d treat a hired nurse. I am so sorry; you deserve better.” Almost as if he were afraid Spock would rebuff him, Jim reached out his hand and laid it on Spock’s. Spock could feel the warm fingers on his wrist, and as always, he wondered how such a slight touch could burn through his very system. “And last night, I was unforgivably cruel.”
“Jim,” Spock tried to interrupt, but Kirk would not be denied.
“No, don’t make excuses for me. I was vicious, and what I said was reprehensible.” Kirk forced himself to meet Spock’s eyes, and the forgiveness and acceptance there were almost enough to make him break down. “I know you didn’t let Edith die from jealousy or a sense of competition, and I ought to have my tongue cut out for ever saying it. If you could have saved her without destroying history, Spock, you would have stepped in front of that truck without hesitation. I know that; I knew it then, and I hate myself for saying otherwise. I am so very sorry, but that doesn’t change what I said and did to you. I don’t deserve your friendship, let alone…anything else.”
“Jim, no. Nothing was your fault.”Spock swallowed and forced himself to continue. “I…I pushed you.”
Now it was Kirk’s turn to shake his head. “No, you didn’t push me; I acted like an ass, because I was scared.”
“I did not mean to scare you.”
Kirk smiled gently. “Oh, Spock, you didn’t scare me. Did you think that telling me you loved me was frightening? It was the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” His smile faded. “And I threw it away, because I am scared but not by you. What I told you before is true. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared for, and it’s been hard. But losing you…losing you is the one thing I couldn’t bear. I could die tomorrow; worse, you could die tomorrow. Don’t you see?” Kirk turned his head away, his voice so soft that Spock almost couldn’t hear him. “It’s not that I don’t love you; I do. I’ve loved you ‘for a long time,’ too, you know. I just never had the courage to tell you.” Spock could hear the self-loathing in Kirk’s voice. “That courage is just one more way you’re a better man than I’ve ever been. But I love you too much, far too much to risk being hurt again. I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known, but everyone I love dies.” He turned back to his friend, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Don’t love me, Spock. Please, don’t love me.”
Slowly, Spock moved closer. “That is one request I cannot obey.” His voice was as quiet as Jim’s. “It was too late the day I met you. Even if I were to leave here tomorrow, even if I never saw you again, you will own my heart, as you always have.” Spock took a deep breath. “I cannot promise I will never leave you; no one can predict our fates that way. I can only promise that even if we are parted, I will love you, through life, through death, through eternity.” Spock bowed his head.
“I should not even speak these words, but I am so weary, weary of lying to you, weary of pretending that your very presence does not burn in me like a wildfire. For more than two years, I have longed for you, ached for you, burned for you,” he whispered. “One night in your arms would be a greater gift than immortality. If I die tomorrow, if you die tomorrow, please, let me carry those memories with me. If only for one night, let me love you; love me in return. And then, let the universe do what it will, because I will have had all I could ever desire from it.” He raised his head, gazing at Jim with all the passion, all the love he had buried for so long plain in his face. Kirk would not understand how anyone could say Vulcans had no emotions. This one certainly did.
“Spock.” Jim could say no more. Wordlessly, he opened his arms. Silently, Spock moved into his embrace. For what might have been a minute or an hour, the two simply clung to each other, Spock luxuriating in the feel of Kirk’s arms around him, the sound of the human heart thrumming through Spock’s own being, Kirk’s scent, like cool green leaves, filling Spock’s very soul. He realized, with dim astonishment, that he was actually trembling. He buried his face in Kirk’s shoulder and tightened his embrace, feeling Jim’s lips brush the crown of his head as he slowly began to run his hand up and down Spock’s back, soothing the tremors of emotion that still shook his friend’s slender body.
“It’s all right,” Kirk whispered, unconsciously echoing Spock’s earlier words. “I’m scared too, but it’s all right. Let’s be scared together.” Slowly, he raised Spock’s face to his and carefully let their lips meet in a tender, undemanding kiss.
Instantly, Spock felt his entire being rush to that single point of contact. Dimly, he wondered how the pressure of a few centimeters of flesh could completely ignite his body with longing. He found himself kissing Kirk in return, his eager lips learning the shape of the human’s mouth, which opened slightly as Spock pressed harder. He moaned as he began to explore the cool moistness; he shivered at the exquisite feeling as Kirk’s tongue met his, carefully tracing its way inside Spock’s lips and caressing every surface it could reach.
At last, Kirk gently broke the kiss, leaning back to look into Spock’s eyes. He raised one hand and tenderly traced the Vulcan’s features, the curve of his jaw, a high cheekbone, the upswept eyebrow, learning Spock’s face as a blind man might learn. He paused when he saw the faint greenish bruise on Spock’s check, evidence of where Jim had struck him. He leaned forward and put his lips on the mark, brushing his mouth across the flesh as if his kiss could remove the bruise. He drew back again and laid his fingers against the discolored spot.
“Spock, forgive me,” he whispered. “How could I? I hurt you so.”
Spock caught Kirk’s hand in his grasp and brought his fingers to his lips. “It is all right,” he whispered against Kirk’s hand. “You are healing me now.” Whatever pain he’d suffered before was instantly washed away in the brilliance of Jim’s smile. Jim gently freed himself from Spock’s embrace and stood, offering his hand to Spock, who rose and took it. Silently, Jim led him down the hall. He stopped for an instant in front of his door but looked at Spock when he heard the Vulcan catch his breath. In an instant, Jim understood. He stopped and took Spock into his arms again.
“No,” he whispered, “we won’t use that room. May I come to your bed?” He looked up at Spock. Now it was his turn to catch his breath as he saw the hot light in those warm brown eyes. Spock said only one word.
Once inside Spock’s room, he started to move toward his bed but then stopped. Jim looked at him inquiringly.
So close to his heart’s desire, Spock felt paralyzed again. “Jim, I…” He forced himself to continue. “I have very little…experience in these matters. I….I want to please you, but…” he broke off as Kirk took him in his arms again.
“Spock, you already please me,” Jim whispered against his neck. “But this time, it is not about me. For once, I want you to be selfish. I want you to need, to demand, to receive what you want. Tell me, Spock,” Jim murmured, kissing his jaw. “Tell me what you want, what you’ve dreamed of.” He drew back slightly and gazed into Spock’s eyes, the hot, bright desire in his eyes almost more than Spock could bear. “And if you can’t bring yourself to tell me,” Kirk whispered, “I’ll guess. And I am a very good guesser.”
All of Spock’s trepidations melted away in the heat of Kirk’s eyes. Suddenly, Spock knew that this was not a mistake; it would not destroy them. It would heal them both. Greatly daring, he slipped his hands beneath Kirk’s shirt, feeling the silky skin and hard muscles beneath his fingers. He knew he wanted more; he wanted to feel every inch of Kirk’s skin against his own heated flesh. He wanted to revel in sensations, drown in the flood of desire that was sweeping through him. He wanted everything, and he wanted to give everything in return. He leaned forward and whispered into the rounded human ear, “Go ahead, Jim. Guess.”
Kirk’s answering smile sent another spike of pure desire through Spock’s body. “All right,” Jim murmured seductively. “Let’s see how good I am.” He led Spock over to the bed, gently pushing him down until the Vulcan half sat, half lay against the pillows, watching Kirk as he stood before him.
“I’m guessing,” Kirk paused, “I’m guessing you want to see me, all of me.” With a few easy motions, he stripped off his clothes, letting them fall and standing proudly before his lover, his firm, golden body almost glowing in the early morning light. Spock’s eyes devoured him. He’d seen Jim naked before, of course; serving together as they did, it was inevitable. But he had never been free to simply look, to take in all the details of curves and planes, hard muscle and tender hollows. His mouth went dry as he let his gaze drop to the human penis, already rising firm and eager. Kirk gave him a look of pure seduction.
“Did I guess right?”
“Yes,” Spock breathed. “Oh, yes.”
With another smile, Kirk crawled onto the bed and straddled Spock’s body. ‘Now,” he purred, “I’m guessing you want to touch me. I know I want to touch you.” With the same efficient motions he’d use to undress, he gently unbuttoned and slipped Spock’s shirt from his shoulders. He allowed his hands to slide from Spock’s shoulders down to his chest, letting his fingers lose themselves in the soft, downy black fur, finding and carefully stroking first one and then two tiny, coppery nipples, his cock throbbing as he felt them harden and heard Spock’s gasp of pleasure. Once both nubs were hard and aching, he lowered himself onto Spock’s body, letting his mouth replace his fingers, suckling Spock’s nipples in turn as his hands slid ever lower, undoing the drawstring of Spock’s sleep pants and slipping them down the Vulcan’s slim hips, filling his eager hands with Spock’s already aroused cock.
“Ahhh,” Spock moaned as he felt Jim’s cool fingers stroking his length, caressing the head and running just the tips of his fingers along the pulsing double ridges. Spock found himself thrusting into the human’s grasp, moaning again as Kirk’s grip tightened, as he expertly moved his hands up and down Spock’s hard shaft, his touch inflaming Spock so greatly that he knew it would only be a matter of moments before his orgasm swept through him.
“Oh! Oh, Jim!” Spock tried, but all his Vulcan control was gone. He came with a soft cry, his fragrant juices spilling over Kirk’s hand, his sob of pleasure echoing through the room. He fell back against the pillows, his eyes closed, trying to control his breathing, a slight flush of shame on his checks. He felt the bed shift as Kirk rose, and the next thing he knew, Jim was back, gently running a warm, damp towel across his loins. Jim finally discarded the cloth and cuddled close, wrapping his arms around Spock and laying his head on the Vulcan’s shoulder. Spock could feel the human’s erection throbbing against his thigh, and he felt another flash of shame as he realized that Jim hadn’t come.
“Stop that,” Jim murmured tenderly. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s absurd. Don’t you know how flattered I am that you’re so responsive to my touch, how wonderful it was for me to feel you come, to know that I did that for you? There will be plenty of time for me; we have all the time in the world.” He rubbed his check drowsily against Spock’s shoulder and nestled even closer as Spock’s arms tightened around him. “I’m tired out, and you must be exhausted. I’m guessing you haven’t slept properly since we got here.” He shifted slightly and pulled up the blanket over them both. He nuzzled Spock’s neck tenderly, letting his lips slide sleepily over the smooth flesh. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, “and I will too. When we wake up, we’ll see if I can still guess what you want.” He relaxed completely in Spock’s arms, his entire body going limp as he slipped into sleep.
Spock wanted to stay awake, to luxuriate in the feel of Jim in his arms, the cool, firm body pressed up against him, his hands running compulsively over Jim’s back and buttocks, stroking, caressing, learning every inch of his flesh as Spock had silently vowed he would. But the pull of fatigue was too strong, his body too relaxed from his climax to fight sleep any longer. With a sigh, Spock allowed himself to follow Jim into slumber.
Vulcans almost never dreamed, but Spock knew he must be dreaming. His cock was hard, as erect as it had been before Jim had touched him, and it was surrounded by wet warmth. He could feel lips and tongue moving over his shaft, licking and suckling his flesh, making him pant softly with the shivers of ecstasy running from his loins to all parts of his body. He found himself rocking his hips, pushing deeper into that enticing suction. In his dream, he could even feel gentle fingers cradling his balls, stroking in rhythm with the incredible sucking, and he could hear and feel soft moans coming from the mouth that was working him so expertly.
“Jim! Oh, Jim, please, more; don’t stop!” Spock’s eyes flew open as the cries came from his throat, and he realized he was not dreaming. He was in bed with Jim, the human’s golden head buried between his thighs, Jim’s clever, tormenting mouth pushing him past the point of reason. Spock cried out and came, racking spasms running through him as he exploded in Jim’s mouth, the human licking and sucking his cream as Spock thrust helplessly into his throat.
Jim rode his climax easily as Spock finally subsided, the aftershocks still making his cock twitch with small bolts of pleasure. Jim simply held Spock within his mouth, letting the Vulcan’s cock soften gradually, keeping the warm moistness around him until Spock was finally sated. Then he gently released Spock’s penis and scooted up the bed, taking Spock into his arms.
“I’m guessing that’s how you wanted to wake up,” Jim whispered teasingly. “Was I right?”
Spock pulled him closer and kissed him, savoring their mingled tastes in the human’s mouth. He could once again feel Jim’s eager cock throbbing between them, and he knew what he wanted.
“You are almost correct,” Spock replied softly, “but there is still something missing.”
Jim wiggled closer to him, letting his hands once again stroke Spock’s chest, pinching and teasing his nipples. Spock could feel his cock beginning to swell again, craving yet more stimulation from this human that held him in thrall. He buried his face in Kirk’s neck with a groan.
“I want…I want…” He could not bring himself to say it.
“Tell me,” Jim murmured tenderly, his fingers stroking Spock’s neck, running softly up and down his spine. “Whatever you want, love, whatever you need.”
“I want…I crave…you, inside me,” Spock finally managed to gasp. “I want to feel you in my body. Please, Jim, please.”
For a moment, Kirk was silent. Then “Oh, yes,” Jim breathed. “Yes.” He removed himself from Spock’s embrace, leaning down to kiss him. “Wait here; I’ll be right back.” Spock heard him going down the hall and then returning. Jim set a small jar on the nightstand and then climbed back onto the bed, gently pulling back the blanket. Spock lay quietly, feeling both a burn of desire and a faint chill of trepidation. Kirk seemed to read his mind, as he so often had these last hours. He leaned over and gently kissed Spock’s stomach.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “It will be all right. It will be better than all right.” He gently laid his hands on Spock’s hip and coaxed him to roll over onto his stomach. Spock lay still, his face turned away, barely breathing as he felt Jim’s hands tenderly part his thighs.
“Relax, love,” he heard Jim murmur. Spock heard the faint sound of Jim picking up the small jar and opening it. At once, he could catch the sandalwood scent of the cream the jar contained. For a moment or two, nothing happened. Then Spock felt Jim’s hands, cool and moist with the cream, begin to slide across his lower back.
“Ahhh,” Spock sighed, relaxing instantly as the firm yet gentle hands started to work against his muscles. Jim massaged more cream into his skin, letting his hands gradually move lower until they were stroking and pressing the firm mounds of Spock’s buttocks. Spock felt himself hardening against the bedclothes as Jim caressed him, felt his legs part as the cool, clever fingers began to slide between his cheeks, not rushing, not pressuring him, but giving his body all the time it needed to accustom itself to the new sensations. Jim paused for a moment, obviously taking more of the cream onto his fingers. Then they returned, carefully pressing against that hidden, most private opening, letting the cream melt into the skin, gently stimulating the ring of muscle until it relaxed and Jim let one finger slip easily inside, feeling Spock’s gasp of pleasure echo in his own flesh as he began to rub and stroke just inside the entrance, feeling Spock open to him like a flower opening to the sun. Spock found himself involuntarily pushing up against Jim’s finger, moaning again as a second digit joined the first, both stroking in unison, brushing something deep inside him that caused his cock to jerk and began to weep pre-cum along his shaft. Jim stroked that spot again, and suddenly Spock was begging.
“Please, Jim, please, it’s not enough, I need more oh please do not tease me so I need…” He shuddered as Jim’s fingers left him and the human urged him over onto his back. His eyes were heavy with arousal, but Spock forced them open to see Jim astride him, stroking more of the cream into his own hard, glistening cock. Spock moaned helplessly, his own arousal riding him fiercely. Jim shifted until he was lying between Spock’s thighs. His hand slid beneath the Vulcan, lifting him, cradling him, as Jim slowly, carefully, eased inside Spock’s passage.
Spock cried out and surged up, driving himself onto Jim’s cock with all his strength. Jim groaned as he found himself buried inside Spock, thrusting eagerly and insistently, knowing instinctively that this was what Spock craved, that the time for gentleness was over.
“Jim, oh please Jim yes, harder, harder, oh take me go deeper do not stop do not stop!” Spock was writhing beneath the human’s cock, His entire body on fire with need, his own cock, trapped between their thrusting bodies, convulsed as he came, flowing with cream as Jim’s cock gave him sensations he had never known, had never imagined.
“Oh, God Spock, so good, so deep inside you I don’t want to stop I can’t stop, please let me let me, more, more, oh God more!” Jim cried out, his own orgasm overtaking him, flooding Spock’s channel with his juices, feeling Spock’s muscles grip him, milking him frantically as Spock came yet again. The sight and feel of his lover climaxing in his arms only made Jim hotter, and he found himself hardening again, thrusting again, coming again, as Spock did the same.
For the rest of the very long night, the two pleasured each other, both giving and getting all they desired. Neither man minded the 15-hour nights on Cynus IV any longer.
Twelve days later, they stood outside the cottage, waiting for the Enterprise to beam them up. Their luggage had already gone; the Transporter Room was waiting for Kirk’s final signal.
Jim turned to the man by his side, pulling Spock into his arms for a final private kiss. “I hate to go,” he murmured, knowing Spock felt the same. For long moments, they simply stood in a close embrace, each feeling the other’s arms around him, each feeling the safety of the other’s embrace.
“Thank you,” Jim finally whispered. “Thank you for healing me.” He felt Spock’s lips brush his brow.
“We healed each other, Jim,” Spock whispered back. “And no matter what we face in the future, do not fear. We will always heal each other.”
“Yes.” Kirk knew it was true. No matter what the universe held, they would face it and conquer it together. He stepped back and gave Spock a dazzling smile.
“Come on, Mr. Spock,” he said, pulling out his communicator. “Let’s go tame the galaxy.”
In a moment, columns of light whisked the two men away. On Cynus IV, dusk was gathering again.