Fingers entwined and lips locked in a kiss, they stumbled through the living room, struggling to get rid of all the offending layers of clothing and landed on the couch. Jim smiled into the kiss as Spock’s hands ran along his back, gently caressing at first, then pinching playfully as they made their way down his body.
“I think we’re going to have a wonderful shore leave,” Jim whispered against his Vulcan’s lips.
Long, slender fingers held his hips in place as a cool mouth sucked lightly at the inside of his thighs and Jim squirmed with pleasure, his dick twitching in anticipation. Spock hovered teasingly over the throbbing organ and hummed.
“Spock…” Jim moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips despite knowing very well that he couldn’t even if he tried with those strong Vulcan hands holding him down. The thought made him shiver with excitement. Then Spock’s tongue was all over him, starting at the base of his cock and then kissing and sucking.
He trusted Spock with every ounce of his being. Perhaps he trusted him even more than he trusted himself. It was so simple to let goand just be who he was, uncensored and unhidden, and Jim knew Spock felt the same way. He could see it in every breath, every move, and every glance.
Most certainly, he could see it now as Spock sucked him off unreservedly, his head bobbing up and down as he gave him a sultry look through fluttering eyelids. It was clear that Spock had nothing to hide from him—that he could just be without apprehension or reticence, and that knowledge was the primary source of Jim’s happiness.
They both lived this new happiness as if it were a fragile gift that could be taken away from them at any moment. They didn’t realize that forever was in their hands, and that their joy finally belonged to them and them only. It felt like they were still blinking their eyes open, dazzled by a light they hadn’t known could shine so brightly. In mere moments, it had become so simple to be happy, so easy to walk free and be themselves without fear of judgment—so simple just knowing the other was undemanding, knowing they both fed on each other’s happiness. The future suddenly felt warm and exciting, but all they could bring themselves to care about was the present and the bright light that blinded them in such a delightful way.
As he fell asleep that night with Spock still breathing heavily, his head of black hair tousled, messy and resting over a steadily beating human heart, all Jim could think about was how eager he was for dawn to arrive and a new day to start, so they could make it just as perfect as the one before.
Spock sat down in the sand wearing a long burgundy Vulcan robe, the end of which was fluttering in the light evening breeze. Jim stood for a moment, eyes locked on the horizon where the sea and sky met, and then he swiftly got rid of his shirt. He tossed it on the sand beside Spock and ran into the water wearing only a pair of black shorts. Spock stared lovingly at the amber-haired man as he disappeared under the cerulean blue waves only to resurface a moment after with bright eyes. He turned, flashing his sunshine smile, and Spock couldn’t help but return the gesture; it was a half-smile that was almost imperceptible, but it still counted all the same. A wave came crashing into Jim’s back just as his smile grew wider, the crest breaking around him like a halo of blue and silver and leaving his bare skin sparkling in the setting sun. Spock held his breath, lost in the beauty of the picture and taking it in so it would never leave his memory. Then Jim came out, salty water dripping from his hair and running down the sides of his face, foam nipping at his ankles.
When his bondmate reached his position, Spock unfolded his legs in front of him, a silent invitation that Jim accepted wholeheartedly. He laid his head in the waiting lap as Spock brushed his fingers through his hair.
Jim could finally lose himself to the pleasure without a thought for tomorrow. He could lie down and rest his heavy heart; he could close his eyes and breathe.And the air he breathed was fresh and full of promises of adventure and love and warmth. He could have it all this time, and he intended to take everything life would give him and make the most of it.
He remembered the feeling of loneliness, the crushing sensation that he was still waiting for something—that even though he had everything he needed and wanted, he still craved something else, something more. It seemed so far now, and yet he could remember it, the way he yearned for some peace in the chaos that submerged him… for a shelter from the storm, a sun through the rain, a beach to walk on. He needed something that stayed indefinitely, something that could weather any hardship and resist the rain. He needed someone who would let him carry his dreams and hopes on his shoulders and not only still be there when the weight got too heavy, but to hold them up with him. He knew that as long as he craved this, he would be lost.
But now, there was a beach to walk on, a hand to hold in his own, and two pairs of footprints in the sand. Jim had found his peace, his shelter, the long and welcoming beach he had longed for.
Spock was there, to wish, to wander, to dream with him, to conquer all the undiscovered countries ahead of them.
Chess pieces were lying in wild disorder on a deserted checkered board, a pair of jeans, plaid shirt and Vulcan robe thrown neglectfully nearby on the brightly colored rug. The window was open, displaying a breathtaking view of two setting suns just on the horizon. Jim smiled to himself and nudged his nose lovingly against Spock sleeping at his side. He could feel the Vulcan heart now beating calmly but Jim knew that all it would take was his touch to make it hammer against that lean chest again.
Spock shifted in his sleep, his breath tickling Jim’s cheeks as a smile lit the ever-expressive face.
“I love you, Spock”, he whispered, finding tears pricking within his eyes as the moment overwhelmed him.
Finally, he could utter those words and be proud. He could hold on to something he now knew to be true: Spock loved him. Spock—his Spock—still holding his hand, sleeping next to him as the pale light of the dying suns caressed his face. Not so long ago, the thought of Spock holding him close like he did now had seemed impossible—ridiculously impossible. Jim had spent all of those years sinking deeper into his love and yet thinking he would never receive it in return; he hid his broken heart under the cover of a friendly smile and in silence, when Spock was feeling the same way. It felt so familiar, the bitter sting of reality when Jim Kirk first realized he was hopelessly in love with his First Officer, and the bleak melancholy he felt when he told himself he had to pretend it didn’t matter. Regardless of how familiar the feeling was, Jim now found himself wondering how he had ever doubted Spock. Lying together in bed, fingers entwined with their hearts beating serenely, it was hard to imagine being anywhere or doing anything else. They belonged. It was as simple as that, and Jim felt it in his bones. The feeling overwhelmed him entirely, filling him up to the brim with utter love.
Spock was waking up, his eyelids flickering open as two deep chocolate eyes stared into Jim’s soul. Jim sighed happily. Finally, after all of this time, he had found a beach to walk on.