Chapter Text
Chekov had figured everything out. The plan was simple: Jim had just to concoct a scenario for him and Spock to share, then launch it from his side with his device. Then, it was just a matter to beam the other device to Spock’s quarters, say the trigger word, and ‘wolia’, instant happiness. They’d all congratulated each other on their cleverness, then Bones and Chekov had gone off to have a celebratory drink, leaving Jim with the pair of Thought Makers.
Which brought Jim to now, sitting in his quarters, water dripping down the back of his neck from his shower. The problem was. . . he didn’t really want to use it. He appreciated Chekov and Bones putting their heads together for him, but. . . after all the trouble it caused before, it seemed kind of. . . wrong. Even if Spock was avoiding him like it was his job, Jim knew that forcing the issue would just end badly.
But. What if. . .?
No.
Jim sighed.
His door chimed.
Jim sighed again. “Come. Bones, come on. I told you I wasn’t going to-- oh.”
Spock stood there with his hands behind his back, left eyebrow raised.
“Do you often implore the good Doctor to . . . come?”
Jim side-eyed the two thought makers, making sure that they were both there and that Chekov hadn’t dropped one by Spock’s quarters before coming to see Jim. Spock almost sounded. . . flirty. Jim rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get his wishful thinking under control.
“Uh.” Jim blinked. He felt like he’d just been offered water after running through a desert for a week. His eyes raked over Spock’s form, as though parched for the sight.
“Is it not customary for one to invite visitors inside the room?”
Jim realized he was standing in front of the door. He stepped aside, completely flustered, and Spock stepped inside. Strangely enough, seeing the fact that Spock had a white-knuckled grip on his own hands, that he was actually displaying how nervous he was, helped Jim to relax slightly.
“I’m glad you came by,” Jim blurted.
Spock made a non-committal noise and sat down at one of the chairs they usually used for chess. The board was there, but Jim had never felt less like playing in his whole life.
Spock still didn’t speak. His eyes cut over to the Thought Makers, then back to Jim, right eyebrow joining the left, disappearing under Spock’s hairline.
Jim’s eyes widened, thinking about how it looked to have them there. “Oh no. I mean. I thought about it, but I wasn’t going to. . . uh.”
“I believe that we need to talk.”
Jim winced. He couldn’t think of any sort of conversation in his life that had gone well that had started with those words. Jim couldn’t help himself from sneaking little glances up at Spock. The black tunic made him look amazing. And, even if it was only in his head, Jim couldn’t stop remembering what Spock felt like behind him.
Jim ran a hand through his drippy hair. He sat down across from Spock, nodding. “You’re right. So uh, to state the obvious- we saw the same things. When Bones was there, he saw what we saw. A shared. . .”
“Hallucination.”
Jim thought for a moment. “I suppose. We were given a situation, and reacted to it. Leblanc didn’t expect your Vulcan mind- and your uh, loyalty. I was supposed to be hurt over and over. He wanted me to feel pain, but didn’t count on Bones trying to save me and you trying to mel--”
“Yes, Jim. I have read the report.”
Jim shut his mouth. His heart felt somewhere lower than where it was supposed to be- instead beating in the vicinity of his feet. He stared at his bare toes, hating himself for being unable to give in to the temptation of having Spock. If only he hadn’t been so. . . needy. He felt silly for “succumbing” for so many stupid cliches- he had been some stupid, pathetic damsel in distress who had needed saving over and over and over. Spock had to despise him; to feel tricked into something he never would have done in reality. Spock had been so disgusted by everything---
To Jim’s great shock, he felt Spock reach out with his finger and tilt Jim’s head up so that they were looking at each other.
“I have spoken at length with the Doctor, who assures me that you bear me no ill will for interfering twice in your medical condition.” Spock sounded perfectly emotionless, for all that he was actually touching Jim. Jim had to keep telling himself that this was actually real. It was hard to listen to Spock’s words when his body was screaming at him, but a few moments later Spock’s words sunk in.
“Wait. Twice?”
“Indeed.”
“So you feel like everything that happened in. . . everything that happened because of Leblanc was . . . real?”
“Do you not?” Spock’s voice had lowered. “I certainly do. I told myself that the first meld was to keep you from pain. And while that was its primary function, the rest was because I wished to feel your mind entwined with mine, Jim.”
Spock’s eyes were clear, all masks and walls gone. Jim could read his whole world in that dark gaze.
“The second meld was once Leonard had broken you from the pull of that machine. When I came back, I could still feel you. The link was faint, but undeniable. I felt that link weakening. I felt it grow brittle and vitreous. I confess; I was inexcusably. . . compromised. Your mind was convinced you were hurt. That you were dying. Your body did what your mind insisted to be true- and I could not. Not again. I--”
Spock’s fingers shook a little as he ghosted his fingertips along Jim’s jaw.
“I melded with your mind without your permission. My belief that it would be the only way to save you is not an excuse.”
Jim licked his lips. His heart had risen from his feet to somewhere in his throat. “And you think I’d be mad at you for that?”
“I was ‘mad at me for that’, Jim. I am unused to acting without considering all the ramifications of my actions.”
Jim couldn’t resist such provocation. Spock had all but given him an engraved invitation, delivered on a silver tray, with Heralds announcing its presence. He leaned forward slightly and kissed Spock’s mouth. He could feel Spock catch his breath, and Jim slid their lips together with a little more pressure. Spock kissed him back immediately, standing so carefully that the only part of their bodies that touched were the tips of Spock’s fingers against Jim’s skin and their lips. Jim cupped Spock’s face with his hands and their mouths met once again. Jim traced the seam of Spock’s lips with the tip of his tongue, then the kiss changed, becoming deeper and stronger as they traded control of the kiss.
When Jim broke away to suck in a gasp of air, Spock didn’t stop kissing him, instead moving his lips on Jim’s jaw, and neck, sliding back up to lick into Jim’s mouth as soon as Jim had the ability to breathe again.
When they broke apart, they both were breathing heavily. Even with all the time they had spent exploring each other in their minds, the solid reality of Spock touching him was making his head spin.
Well, maybe that was lack of oxygen.
Jim rested his forehead against Spock’s, kissing him when he felt like it. Some of their kisses were soft, chaste things, and some were so filthy that they might as well have been naked. After a few moments, Jim realized that Spock was speaking softly against Jim’s lips.
“Jim, I have desired you for so long that I find it difficult to conceive of a time when I did not. It is . . . difficult to not wish to meld with you. I find myself searching for that link at the most inopportune of times, desperate to share with you the most intimate part of myself.”
Jim pulled away. Spock sounded like he was apologizing. “What makes you think that I want you to not meld with me?”
Spock actually blinked, staring at him, completely stymied. It wasn’t very often that Jim could throw Spock for a loop.
“Spock, I don’t know how we keep getting everything wrong. Most of the time, we’re so perfectly in synch but lately when I zig, you zag. I’d laugh if it was happening to someone else.” Jim licked his lips again, knowing that he had to stop being nervous. Spock had been in his head . What did Jim think he’d be able to hide?
Why would he want to?
“You’ve been in my mind. I guess; technically, I’ve been in yours. All of those things we talked about, all the time we spent together, all that doesn’t just go away because we found out it wasn’t as real as this--” Jim leaned forward and quickly kissed Spock’s lips, not wanting to get distracted. “--We experienced it. It happened to both of us. It’s real. I loved you before he did that to us. I loved you during it.”
Jim smiled at him, unable to contain his happiness. “I love you now.”
Spock exhaled slowly with a breath that trembled.
“And just in case it comes up again, Spock. You have my permission. Fully. Completely. Wholeheartedly. In any way, shape, form that needs doing to meld with me.”
“Jim. . .”
Jim found himself lifted and pulled into Spock’s lap. Had anyone ever thought to ask him, Jim would have sworn that there was no way for two grown, adult males to fit in a chair that size.
Somehow they managed.
Spock kissed him like he was drinking him in, arms wrapped around Jim’s shoulders, then back, then his ass, holding Jim to him as though he’d never let go.
Jim pulled off his shirt, working around Spock’s hands, and throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of his closet. Spock echoed his movement, then stood, scooping Jim up and walking with him towards Jim’s bedroom.
Jim was not used to the weightlessness of being lifted as though he weighed barely nothing. He barely had time to get used to it before Spock had lowered him gently onto Jim’s bed, following him so that there was barely any space between the two of them. Jim gasped when Spock bit his chin, then scrambled a bit at undoing his jeans and kicking them off so that Spock could see him, spread out under him.
This they’d both done before and never done before, but Jim could tell no difference with what he’d remembered and what he now felt. Spock’s mouth on his thigh was just as gentle, and his fingers on Jim’s hipbones just as sturdy as his mouth wrapped around the tip of Jim’s cock. Spock sucked at him, using his tongue and stroking fingers on anything he couldn’t fit in his mouth. Jim couldn’t just lay there. He pushed up on his elbows and spread his legs so he could watch Spock’s mouth on him, wishing again for the mirror that had been in the dark little cellar.
When Spock cupped his ass and lifted him so that he could get his mouth on him more directly, Jim had to bite his lips against screaming out his need. The walls of his quarters weren’t that thick, and the last thing either of them needed at this point was Security busting down the Captain’s door.
Spock didn’t ignore Jim’s balls, or the soft bit of skin under them, kissing and sucking until Jim was a shivering wreck. Spock moved his mouth to Jim’s thigh, and bit the skin there, scraping his teeth over the flesh, causing Jim to gasp out Spock’s name.
Jim’s whole body felt as though it were buzzing, but he wanted to touch Spock. He reached down and pulled Spock’s mouth up to his again and Spock seemed to know what Jim wanted, turning so that he was on his back and Jim was on top of him.
He looked down at Spock’s chest, with the slightly darker green nipples peeking out at him through Spock’s soft chest hair. Jim could see the bulge of Spock’s cock from behind Spock’s linen trousers. Jim liked the difference of his being naked, while Spock was still dressed, although anyone looking at his First wouldn’t exactly call him ‘decent’.
He felt like a starving man at a feast.
There was a large spreading wet patch on Spock’s front, and Jim met Spock’s embarrassed gaze. Jim pulled the pants down, and bit his lip when he saw Spock’s flushed cock as it lay against Spock’s stomach. The tip was shiny, and Jim could see what had made the linen so wet. The liquid was viscous; thick and slick when Jim touched it directly.
“Vulcans have self-lubricating dicks?” Jim felt and sounded like all of his birthdays and Christmases for the next 80 years had come at once. No wonder Jim had wondered if Spock had some sort of magically appearing lube. He sort of did.
Spock actually laughed out loud.
Jim caught Spock’s hand in his and kissed his fingers, watching as Spock’s eyes fluttered closed, his laughing mouth opening in an o of slack-jawed need. Jim slid down Spock’s body and slid his hand around Spock’s length, testing the thickness and heft in his hand. Their position wouldn’t quite work for what Jim had fantasized about doing.
“Sit up a little. Yeah. Against the headboard like that.”
Spock did, and he opened his legs a little so that Jim could maneuver between them. Jim licked his fingers. The slippery liquid definitely didn’t taste like chocolate, but it wasn’t bad. A little salty, and a little thicker than human preejaculate, but definitely something Jim wouldn’t mind having in his mouth. Jim knew that he could go down on Spock fairly easily. Spock was thick, but not as long as Jim. It took a little bit of work, but with a few minutes, Jim was deep throating Spock’s cock like he’d imagined doing, encouraging Spock to gently thrust so that Jim couldn’t help but choke a little. But, when Jim brought the first two fingers of Spock’s left hand into his mouth besides Spock’s dick, Spock moaned his name, over and over, as quickly as he could draw breath.
Jim pulled off, sucked in a deep breath, and went back down. Spock had to pull his fingers out of Jim’s mouth to tangle them in his hair, but his hips rocked with more force, until Jim could feel Spock grow harder and thicker, ready to come.
Jim brought him right to the edge before pulling off again. He looked up to see that Spock was absolutely wrecked: sweaty and messy with cheeks, ears and cock flushed a dark, mossy green with need.
Spock raised a shaky hand to his hair and brushed it off his forehead, chest still heaving.
“Come here."
Jim wanted to do nothing else, and kind of awkwardly twisted so that he was able to kiss Spock’s mouth.
Spock’s dick brushed against his ass, and as Jim kissed Spock, Spock prepared him.
Jim wanted it all. He wanted Spock’s mouth on him, and in him, wanted his mind entwined with his and desperately wanted to feel that fat cock of Spock’s inside of him, spreading him open as surely as Spock’s fingers were.
Jim wanted everything.
Spock lifted him again, and Jim helped by holding Spock’s dick steady as he slowly bared down so that he could take Spock inch by inch. When Spock’s fingers slid onto Jim’s psi points just as he bottomed out inside of him, Jim found himself sucking in air as fast as he could, almost sobbing with the sensation of being so perfectly overwhelmed.
Spock’s whisper of, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts” rocked through Jim’s body and soul, as they started to move together. Jim’s fingers entangled with Spock’s as their other hands tightened, anchoring them.
“My T'hy'la . My Jim.”
Jim heard the words in his mind and in his heart as they came together, connected in every way that they could be.
Jim wasn't used to being happy. He'd found contentment of course, and joy in his crew, and his job, and the family he'd made for himself. But now? Lying with Spock, joined together mind to mind, body to body, Jim knew he'd finally been given his chance at everything; that he'd never be alone again.