Today was the day, Jim thought, drawing in a nervous breath: Shore leave on Earth with Spock in a romantic hideaway for two. Sure, they’d shared time on shore leave before, but never on Earth and never actually together—sharing a room (or cabin, in this case), not having to part after dinner, no sneaking around the ship in various closets and briefing rooms. They’d be able to take their time, explore one another and draw out their pleasure…
Jim could already picture himself laying Spock down in front of the fireplace, stripping him slowly with hands and teeth, mapping taut skin with lips and tongue and sinking into that hot body slowly, taking the time to make love properly. Afterward, they’d lay by the fire and Jim would tell Spock everything…how much he loved him and that he wanted to make it official, wanted more than frenzied fucks in various nooks and crannies around the ship. That he missed their melds and he wanted the bond, goddamnit. His ‘kind of’ lover had been hesitant to meld lately, ever since that intense morning in briefing room 3-B, fearing that he might accidentally connect them for life.
It had been weeks and even though he and Spock were still having sex—in the Captain’s ready room, in the maintenance supply closet on deck 3 and multiple observation lounges—they hadn’t shared minds since. Jim missed the closeness and he’d been serious when he told Spock he liked the idea of a bond and while his First had seemed to be pleased, that conversation ‘for another time’ had never happened. Well, James T. Kirk was going to make it happen, this weekend in a secluded cabin for two on the shore of Indiana’s Sugar Creek. He smirked to himself as he made his way to transporter room three, thinking about all the things Spock was going to love about the location Jim had picked—the quiet, the wild life and the privacy.
Spock had no idea where they were headed, but he had already beamed down to pick up the aircar Jim had reserved. He wanted to space their transport times in order to keep up appearances. It was one thing for Captain and Commander to go site-seeing together, quite another for them to beam down together and book a one bedroom suite. They still hadn’t told anyone about their little…affair?...Liaison?...Sexcapades?...but Jim was pretty sure that McCoy definitely suspected something was going on. He hoped by the end of the next four days, he’d be able to confide some good news to the country doctor. Yup, Jim had high hopes for this shore leave and he couldn’t wait to get Spock alone…
Spock was decidedly…uneasy about this shore leave. He was currently loading his luggage, consisting of a single suite case and a satchel containing his tricorder and PADD, into the aircar that the Captain had secured for them. Jim…Spock mused internally, how had they come to this? It was not logical, the relationship they shared, the undying need to repeatedly join with the impulsive, vibrant human. If this continued…he was not sure how long he could keep himself from melding with the mind that called so clearly to his own. And he still had no idea where they were going.
He hoped, illogically, that Jim had chosen a destination that offered a myriad of life-threatening activities which would require them to focus on survival instead of the unspoken between them, as was common during their usual shore leave adventures. Yes, give Spock a mountain to climb, a white water raft and rapidly flowing water or drop him from a plane with a questionable rented parachute, but please, whatever Jim had planned, do not let it be…ideal. Spock had only just begun to accept that his ‘sort of’ lover was, in fact, more than just a friend, more than a casual bedmate. Jim had even admitted, light-heartedly, that a bond did not frighten him. At the time, the words had pleased him, but upon reflection and meditation, Spock had discovered that the very idea of them bonding frightened the hell out of him.
Jim was human and even if he didn’t die young and actually made it to the ripe age of 130, the fact remained that Spock’s beloved would die long before himself. Already, the thought of losing Jim…of not seeing him, touching him, hearing his laughter…filled Spock with an insurmountable sorrow. If they bonded, he knew the pain of that loss would be all-consuming and never ending. It would be so much worse to lose him should they tether themselves together. If they could just continue as they were, at least for a time until…until perhaps Jim lost interest and found someone more suitable or until Spock could attempt Kolinahr… then maybe he could avoid it…
His thoughts were interrupted when the object of his unease approached their aircar, blue eyes bright and kissable lips upturned in a most attractive grin. It was almost enough to make Spock forget all of his earlier doubts concerning Jim’s humanity.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Spock,” the Captain greeted, throwing his single suit case carelessly into the back, knocking over Spock’s own neatly arranged luggage.
Spock replied with his customary monotone, “Likewise.” He then closed the trunk and turned to face the man behind him, “Although, I must admit some curiosity as to our destination.”
“Our destination?” That Kirkian grin was in full attendance now.
“Yes,” Spock intoned, “I wish for you to tell me more about the place we are going to, or are you not fluent in Standard?”
Jim chuckled, “Okay, okay, I’ll spill.” He pulled an actual paper brochure from his pocket that read Cabins and Candlelight in gaudy gold script, “Let’s see. Well…it’s a gorgeous, about two hundred year old cottage, filled with all kinds of antiques, that sits in the middle of a deep, dark forest in Indiana.”
Spock swallowed, that uneasiness from earlier back in full force, “I see.”
“That’s not all, though,” Jim’s grin grew impossibly wider, his eyes alight with excitement, “It has three fireplaces and two balconies.”
“Ah…” Spock was beginning to think agreeing to this before knowing their destination had been a gross miscalculation. He’d only acquiesced as quickly as he had because their next mission involved ferrying Spock’s father halfway across the galaxy and he had felt a sudden need for wide open spaces and vast quantities of fresh air.
“It’s about twenty miles to the nearest neighbor, thirty to the nearest town,” Jim read from the pamphlet.
“Ah,” he intoned once more incapable, really, of forming words. It was his worst fear for this shore leave come to life.
“Oh,” Jim eyes met his, breaking him out of his stupor, “There’s this beautiful view—“
“Of what?” Spock interrupted, perhaps it was not meant to be the romantic getaway the brochure made it out to be. Perhaps Jim had chosen the cabin for the view of the large mountain they were going to climb or a zip line he intended for them to use to cross haphazardly through a multitude of trees.
“Of the river,” Jim beamed, “You can see it from every room in the house. At night, when the stars are out and you can only hear the rushing water, it is... one of the most romantic spots on the whole planet.”
Jim had opened his mouth, as if he were going to say more when Spock held up his hand, “That is sufficient,” he walked around to the back of the aircar and popped open the trunk, a confused Jim following behind. He grabbed his suitcase and satchel then turned to Jim. “I have changed my mind, I will not be coming along.”
He had actually managed to make it one step before Jim finally recovered from his initial shock. “What the hell do you mean you’re not coming?”
“Jim,” Spock turned to meet the hurt blue eyes of his Captain, his voice little more than a whisper, “this cannot continue.”
“What—Why?” Jim grasped Spock’s forearm, eyes full of remorse, “Did I do something wrong? Is it the cabin thing? We don’t have to do anything, we can stay on the ship if you want to, I’ll cancel everything, I’ll—“
Spock grasped Jim’s shoulders with strong hands and shook slightly, the pain in Jim’s voice too much to bear, “Do you not see? If we continue as we have been, whether it is on the ship or in Indiana…I will not be able to hold back. I will bond us—“
“Good!” Jim shouted, returning Spock’s grip with gusto, “I want you to! I wasn’t fucking around before! Why do you think I planned this shore leave in the first place? I love you. I want to be with you...always.”
Spock’s façade complete shattered at Jim’s declarations and his eyes filled with sorrow, “Yes, but that is not likely, is it?” He dropped his hands to his sides, defeated, “You cannot always be with me. I will likely outlive you by at least a century.”
Realization dawned and suddenly, Jim was on attack mode. His eyes flicked around the parking garage to ensure that they were still alone and, upon finding that they were, he used his grip on the unsuspecting Vulcan to throw him against the car. Spock’s eyes widened and his mouth parted in a very uncontrolled display of shock. Jim took full advantage, crashing their lips together and pushing his tongue inside to lick at lips and teeth and tongue. They were both panting when he finally pulled away, “Look at me,” he ordered, grasping Spock’s chin firmly but with care, to force eye contact. “That’s dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, and you’re supposed to be a member of the smartest race in the Federation.”
Spock’s ears and cheeks colored slightly, “Continuing in a relationship that will inevitably end painfully is illogical—“
“Fuck your logic, you selfish bastard,” Jim’s eyes bored into shaken brown orbs. When he spoke next, his words were incensed, bouncing off the wall of the parking structure to echo around them, “You think you’re the only one with something to lose? We’re in Starfleet, Spock, either of us could die in space tomorrow and don’t you think I fear waking up and never seeing you or hearing your voice again? You lead over three-quarters of every away team; you tell me the odds of your survival past this five year mission compared to my own.” Jim laughed bitterly, and gestured between them, “Do you think this is easy for me? That it doesn’t kill me too, whenever you’re injured—that I don’t pace through the fucking corridors waiting to hear about whether or not you’re gonna be okay? What-if’s scare the shit out of me when it comes to you, but I’m willing to risk it. It doesn’t matter to me if we only have one more day or a hundred more years—any time I can spend with you while we’re both still breathing is worth it… You’re worth it…” He shook his head, suddenly feeling deflated, “I had been hoping that you thought I was worth it too. I guess not.”
Jim had backed away, leaving Spock to chew on his words while he retrieved his luggage from the back of the air car. He reached in to pull his suit case from the trunk when a warm hand on his wrist halted him, “Ashaya,” Spock breathed against his ear, a strong arm coming to wrap around Jim’s middle, crushing the human against a heated chest. “I did not think…”
“Stop,” Jim attempted to shrug him off, to no avail (much to his annoyance).
“I cannot,” Spock slid his hand up Jim’s arm, over his shoulder and up his neck until his fingers were resting upon the meld points, “My fear is shameful all the more so in the face of your bravery but you must know that you are worth everything to me…please, allow me to show you.” With that, Spock’s mind flooded into Jim, exposing himself completely. Spock’s fears, his doubts and the nightmares of Jim’s death that had haunted him for months after the Captain’s last life-threatening accident swirled around their joined consciousnesses for an undeterminable about of time, but just behind the maelstrom there was something more. Something Spock had ignored because to accept it would be to consign himself to an unavoidable fate of loneliness.
Please, Spock, Jim pleaded, reaching for the pulsing light behind the fear. Let it go.
It is difficult…Spock’s voice echoed around them. The feeling is…intense.
And yet, you brought me here for a reason, didn’t you?
Yes. Spock seemed to take a mental breath and then, it was unleashed—waves and waves of it washed over Jim, trampling fear and doubt, both paling in comparison the fierceness of this single, powerful emotion. It filled every contour, every corner of their psyches calling forth Jim’s answering swell of love until their minds were so entwined they were scarcely able to separate themselves as they tumbled out of the meld.
Chests heaving, it took them both several minutes to catch up with the world around them and realize that not only were they both naked, but they also appeared to be locked inside the spacious, but still cramped for two grown men, trunk of their aircar, Jim’s cock buried to the hilt inside of Spock’s hot, welcoming hole. They stared at each other, the dim overhead light casting a glow onto their bewildered expressions, both equally curious as to how they had managed to get there. Then, Jim moved as if to withdraw only to cause them both to moan loudly, as the sensations present during their usual encounters blared to life, times about five thousand.
“Holy fuck!” Jim exclaimed, voice quaking and chest heaving as he stared wide-eyed down at Spock.
“Indeed,” Spock breathed. “We appear to be experiencing hyper-sensitivity—“
“No shit...” Jim huffed, pushing in again slowly, just to test the waters. “Ooohh,” he shuttered, not missing Spock’s tightly clenched jaw. One second of silence followed, another…and then suddenly, frantic hands were grasping and kneading at over-sensitized skin, pulling grinding bodies impossibly closer. Jim fucked into Spock with fervor, every pull on his cock sending jolts of electricity up his spine and to every nerve ending he possessed. His mouth couldn’t get enough of the Vulcan’s tongue, sucking it into his own licking and nipping, coming as close to devouring his lover as possible.
His hands gripped Spock’s hips and pulled down onto his shaft as he pressed his feet against the side of the trunk to gain more leverage. He felt talented fingers sliding along the cleft of his ass before two digits inserted themselves into his hole, causing him to buck deep into the body beneath him.
Spock was equally entranced, his body a molten pool of eroticism as his cock slid between their bodies and his inner walls tingled with every thrust of Jim’s hard organ, every touch against his prostate sending flames throughout his stomach. His testicles were convulsing—contracting and expanding, refusing to grant him relief as their bodies writhed together, moaning and clutching, sweating and panting for completion within the small confines of the trunk. When Jim’s measured thrusts changed in angle, Spock was howling with his pleasure, his prostate mercilessly plundered by the head of Jim’s insistent cock.
It went on and on, with no end in sight, both of them lost in the sensations, their bodies on fire with stimulation, cocks hard and throbbing but refusing to release and Spock suddenly knew what was happening. The meld…it was exactly what he’d been concerned about for weeks. Their minds were calling them together in every way and if Spock touched Jim’s mind right now, a nascent link would form, growing and strengthening over time before reaching full maturity during Pon Farr, should Spock actually experience the mating cycle. Making the decision, knowing that this was what they both wanted, he placed his unoccupied hand on Jim’s forehead, and thrust their minds together just as Jim was thrusting his body into Spock’s.
In a flash, their minds tied together, a single silver strand, not dissimilar to the one Spock had once shared with the now deceased T’Pring but far more vibrant, pulsed within their minds at once overwhelming them in the physical sense. Jim came hard, his balls throbbing with every pulse of liquid into his lover’s hot channel, cock singing with release. He reveled in the feel of hot semen against his abdomen as Spock stiffened beneath him, coming with a haggard shout.
“Holy shit…” Jim managed to pant several minutes later, utterly exhausted and high on endorphins.
“Indeed,” Spock exhaled, his legs cradling his mate where he laid, sweaty and panting…golden and absolutely perfect.
“I can still feel you inside my head…” Jim smiled against wiry chest hair. “Does that mean we’re bonded?”
Spock threaded tingling fingers through wheat tinged hair, “In a sense. Certainly, the first step has been taken.”
Jim’s arms squeezed tightly around his Vulcan, “I love you.” A contented sigh, then, “I can’t wait to get to Indiana.”
A smile touched the corners of Spock’s lips as he gestured at their cramped quarters, “Which begs the question: how do you wish to proceed from here? Is there an internal locking mechanism or should we contact Mr. Sco—“
“Can’t you just punch a hole through the roof or something?” Jim shrugged. “Unless you want to explain to our Chief Engineer how we managed to end up inside the trunk of our aircar, naked and fucking like wild animals…”
Spock quirked an eyebrow then promptly turned his attention to investigate the seam of the trunk. Finding a structural vulnerability, he placed a protective arm over Jim’s head before giving a stiff upward push on the hinges, forcing the hood up from the wrong side and sending it flopping over the car’s back bumper. The next few minutes were spent dressing in a rush and phasering the hood back to their rented vehicle.
“I wonder how many credits it’s going to cost to fix that hood back there,” Jim mused from behind the controls as they sped toward their destination, an unapologetic grin firmly in place.
“I cannot profess to know,” Spock intoned, “However, I am certain that regardless of the cost, we will find it to have been…worth it.”