Archive of Our Own ^beta

As he fled from yet another hostile animal on yet another hostile alien planet, Jim Kirk thought to himself, So I’m going to die—again—and Spock’s never going to know I’m in love with him. Good. Silver linings.

His lungs burning, legs giving out, Jim tried to keep up, but Spock was several yards ahead of him. He looked over his shoulder, voice labored but still clear as he yelled, “Captain, you must run faster!”

“Oh– thanks– Spock– I didn’t– realize– I should– get– away– from– these killer– giraffe– things– I thought– we were– running– for– fun—”

Maybe not the best time to waste his breath on sarcasm.

Spock started to turn back, probably to pick Jim up and carry him or something, but a clenching panic joined the charlie horses and muscle exhaustion in Jim’s weakening body. “Spock, NO!” he screamed. “Just get to the beam-up point! I’ll make it!”

He was almost 100% sure that he was not going to make it, but the thought of Spock dying, especially to save Jim, was unbearable.

Spock hesitated and Jim put on another burst of speed that he didn’t have the strength for, black dots popping in his eyes as he neared unconsciousness, the keening yowls of the killer giraffes or whatever starting to sound distorted to his ears.

But it worked—Spock thought Jim had gotten a second wind and turned away, sprinting with all his superior Vulcan strength to the beam-up point a few feet ahead. He whipped out his communicator and Jim could see him hail the Enterprise, and as Spock dove into the small perimeter of transporter access, the familiar sparking glow engulfed him. He was safe.

Jim was about to either faint or give up when he felt the tug of the transporter himself. Spock must have gotten Scotty to adjust the beaming point—not easy on a planet so studded with ion storms that almost none of it was safe for transporter use.

So much hot, white light; static in the air and a sharp smell like summer lightning. Jim gasped as a sudden pressure seized him, reaching up with difficulty to cover his ears against the humming whine that accompanied the press of gravity.

Distantly he could hear Scotty bellowing something about the transporter and something about another storm, then his voice crackled in and out before going silent.

Jim had been in the transporter beam far too long—he could feel it in his atomized bones. He was about to be torn apart.

But the noise and pressure and ozone stink fell suddenly away and Jim stumbled onto the transporter pad, head swimming. He fell to his hands and knees and gasped for air, a woozy, nauseous feeling rising up to join the burning in his lungs and legs, the headache and blurred vision from lack of oxygen.

“Holy shit."

Jim couldn’t lift his head yet, but in some distant part of his mind he registered a female voice, not Spock’s or Scotty’s like he was expecting.

He felt hands on his arms, gently helping him into a sitting position. “Deep breaths,” said the female voice, and after gulping a few more lungfuls of air, Jim finally managed to look up and focus.

Leaning over him was an incredibly attractive woman wearing command gold with a captain’s braid. She was curvy and muscular, almost plump, with a round ass and some of the finest tits Jim had seen this side of the Alpha Quadrant. Her short, messy hair was wheat-colored and her eyes were… her eyes were a familiar shade of electric blue.

The dizziness surged with a wallop. “Oh fuck. Are you– are you me?”

The woman smiled softly. “I don’t know who you are, buddy, but I gotta admit I was about to ask you the same thing. I’m Captain Jamie Kirk. What’s your name?”

“Captain James Kirk. Jim. U.S.S. Enterprise.”

Well, you’re on the Enterprise alright, but this is my girl, not yours. I’d say you’ve found yourself in an alternate universe, Captain.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that impression.” Jim said faintly, squinting at this female Kirk. “Huh. I look hot as a chick.”

Jamie tilted her head appraisingly. “I look hot as a dude. But I already knew that—this isn’t the first time I’ve met another version of me.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair and tried to will his shaking muscles into stillness. “You’ve run into other alternate universes?”

“Two,” Jamie grinned. “You’re the third. All dudes. No one has ever found their way onto my ship, though—It’s always been me ending up in another reality and having to find my way home.”

No wonder neither of them was too thrown off—they had both done this alternate universe thing before.

Suddenly Jamie’s eyes lit up and Jim had the disorienting sensation of realizing he must look exactly like that whenever he dropped his captain’s demeanor to say something ridiculous or do something reckless.

“Oh my god, Spock’s gonna love this.” She whipped out a communicator and cheerfully paged the bridge. “Commander Spock here,” a woman’s smooth voice answered and, with a shock, Jim realized he wasn't the only guy who had a female counterpart in this universe.

“Spock, I need you in the transporter room immediately.”

“Are you well, Captain?” asked girl-Spock, her voice tinged with the same worry boy-Spock always struggled to hide.

“Oh, I’m great,” Jamie purred. “You will be too when you get down here.” Jim heard a small sigh from the other end, and Jamie’s grin widened. “Kirk out.”

Had she just flirted with her first officer over communicator, for the entire bridge to hear? Jim was pretty sure she had.

“So,” Jamie said, striding over to the transporter controls, all business again. “How’d you wind up here?”

Jim rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. Spock and I were on this planet, H-Alexandria VII, and there was only one little beam-up point because there were so many ion storms on the planet and in its atmosphere that Scotty—do you have Scotty in this universe?”

Jamie smiled from behind the console. “Yep.”

“Girl or boy?”

“Girl.”

“Jesus. Well, Mr. Scott had to pinpoint a clear space for transporter access and we were running to it because these killer giraffe things were chasing us.”

Jamie raised her eyebrows with interest, but not surprise. Business as usual.

“And Spock made it and got beamed up, but I was too far behind. But Scotty must have tried to shift the transporter range because I felt myself getting beamed up, and then I landed here.”

Jamie squinted at the control panel. “Definitely seeing the ion storm. C’mere—take a look.”

Jim stood with some difficulty, still light-headed, and went to look over Jamie’s shoulder at the control panel’s readout. It appeared that Jamie had been in the transporter room doing maintenance on the panel (just like him, Jim thought, to wander down and tinker with engineering tasks that were far below a captain’s rank) when the controls went crazy and spit Jim out onto this strange, girly version of the Enterprise. The readings did indicate an ion storm, but it was going to take some work to figure out how that had landed him in an alternate universe.

As Jamie transferred the readings to her PADD, the transporter room doors swished open and girl-Spock strode purposefully in, but promptly froze when she caught sight of Jim.

Jim’s mouth fell open in sympathetic shock. Spock’s female counterpart was easily the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, although he was probably biased in favor of Spocks of all varieties.

She was slim, with miles of legs sailing out from under the hem of her illogically short blue dress. Her tits were tight and small and her eyes were bigger than his Spock’s—wide and dark above the surprised O of her mouth, her slanted eyebrows thinner and more delicate. The tips of her ears poked out from a long, neat curtain of black hair that fell down almost to her waist. She had the same dopey bangs and a green flush was spreading from her cheeks to her ears and Jim was maybe going to faint from how fast all of his blood had rushed to his cock.

Shit-eating grin firmly in place, Jamie slung an arm around Spock’s skinny shoulders. “Look, babe. It’s me as a dude!”

“Yes, I see that, Captain,” said Spock in a breathy voice that Jim was nearly certain had a current of arousal shivering through it. Jim swallowed.

“You like that, sugar?” Jamie asked, voice pitched low.

Spock looked like she was about to answer in the affirmative but caught herself just in time, glancing down at her feet and, if the sudden deepening green of her ears was any indication, blushing even harder.

“Captain, you are being most unprofessional. Please explain the current circumstances.” She looked up again, her face schooled into the familiar blank expression that Jim, being fluent in Spock, understood to mean, “I am freaking out all illogically right now.”

Jamie was apparently also a native Spock speaker because she smiled wickedly before pinching Spock’s ass, earning a hot little gasp that made Jim even harder, if that was possible. Then Jamie shifted instantly back to a formal Captain’s attitude and retrieved her PADD from the control panel, as if she wasn’t actively engaged in sexually torturing her first officer and her male counterpart from another universe. She handed it to Spock, who was looking at Jim again, more specifically at the now-obvious bulge in his regulation trousers, and who seemed to have forgotten that she had asked her captain to explain anything. She took the PADD with another renewed blush and Jim swayed dizzily.

The combination of arousal with all the other stuff was too much. Jim put his head between his knees and said, “I feel pretty weird. I think I might need to go to sickbay.”

The next thing he knew, Jim was hitting the deck.

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A half hour later, Jim was in a biobed being glared down at by a female version of Bones, who shared the same grizzled countenance with Jim’s own chief medical officer and best friend. It was unbearably surreal; more so even than seeing himself or Spock as a woman. Bones’s hair was graying and pulled back in a haphazard bun, and she was wearing the same regulation surgeon uniform that boy-Bones usually did—black trousers and a shiny blue short-sleeved shirt—except she had boobs. Her arms were so muscular that Jim was pretty sure she could hold him down as effectively as her male counterpart, if not more so.

“Quit looking at me like that, kid. You think this is any less weird for me?” She turned her glare from him to her tricorder, muttering, “Fucking alternate universes where we’ve all got dicks.”

From where she and Jamie were hovering near the end of the biobed, Spock said, “Doctor, I find your focus on genitalia reductionist—surely there is more to learn upon the revelation of another alternate universe than the differences between our respective reproductive organs.”

“As if you’re thinking about anything besides his dick, you green-blooded space hussy.”

Jamie punched McCoy’s arm but she was chuckling. “Don’t call my wife a hussy, Bones. Unless you’re complimenting her, in which case, compliment accepted.”

Spock was blushing again but she mustered a glare in Jamie’s direction. “Captain, a compliment regarding my own sexual history is by nature not directed at you.”

“Whatever you say, honey.”

From where he was lying, forgotten, on the biobed, Jim said softly, “You guys are married?”

All three women turned looks of surprise in his direction. After a beat, Jamie said, “Of course we are. Aren’t you and your Spock?”

“Um, no.”

Jim could have sworn that Spock suddenly looked a little upset, and Jamie furrowed her eyebrows, staring at Jim like an encrypted text transmission she was trying to decode.

Girl-Bones put her hands on her hips. “Well I’ll be. We figured you love-drunk fools were some kind of universal constant.”

“Were Spock and I married in the two other universes you’ve been to?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said. “So that’s three realities where me and Spock are together.”

“Could be four,” said Jim miserably. “There’s another Spock who wound up in my timeline and he was married to his Jim too.”

Jamie widened her stance. Her eyes were hard. “You think he’s not good enough for you?”

Jim sat up too fast, making his head spin again. “What? No! It’s– it’s the opposite. He’s not… he’s not into me.”

Girl-Spock was staring at him. Her face was sad and surprisingly expressive, and it took Jim a long moment to realize that from her point of view, he was her bondmate. She didn’t feel like she had to hide from him. That realization did nothing to help his dizziness.

“Do you possess romantic feelings for him?” she asked.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh, I mean– I don’t see how it’s relevant but– yeah. I do.”

Jamie dropped her defensive posture and exchanged an unreadable look with her wife. There were a few moments of awkward silence before Bones cleared her throat. “Well, I hate to break up this weird little melodrama, but you’re fine. That was quite a jog you took back in your universe, and being in the transporter beam that long gave you one hell of a case of motion sickness, but that’ll fade in a couple hours. Jamie, I suggest you find him some guest quarters and give him a few hours to sleep while you figure out how to send him back.

Jamie dragged her eyes away from Spock. “Yeah, ok. Let’s go, Captain. You know the way.”

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Jim woke up to the sound of someone bumping into a table in the living area of his guest quarters. He stumbled blearily to the door and found Jamie, grinning, holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and rubbing her hip with the other. Kirk clumsiness—also a universal constant, apparently.

“It’s late—Spock and I stopped working but I’ve got my gamma-shift engineers and scientists on getting you back home. And Spock’s probably working on it again now that I left her alone. Thought you could probably use a drink.”

Jim rubbed his eyes and crossed to the little kitchen, taking out a couple of glasses. “You have no idea.”

Jamie sat at the desk and poured them each a shot. They tossed them back before she filled their glasses again with enough to sip.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks. Muscles are sore, but otherwise back to normal. As normal as I can be in an alternate universe, anyway.”

“Good. Hey, sorry I gave you a hard time in sickbay. You know, about not being with your Spock. I just– I get defensive of her, you know? People don’t know how special she is.”

Jim gave her a sad, half-hearted smile. “Don’t worry about it. I know how you feel. Trust me.”

Jamie stared him down, long and searching. “Are you sure he doesn’t reciprocate?”

“I mean, as sure as you can be with Spock.”

“But what are you basing that on? There was a long time when I thought my Spock didn’t feel anything for me either. It was hard for her to come to terms with falling in love in this crazy, soul-encompassing way. They’re Vulcans—it’s way different for them.”

“I know. But he just… it’s not like he’s mean or distant or… if he was in love with me and having a freakout about it, trying to hide it or whatever, don’t you think he’d be distant? Avoid me? He’s just… his normal self. Friendly in his own way but not… anything more.”

“But you don’t know what his particular brand of freaking out looks like. You don’t know that he would just shut off around you.”

“Did your Spock?”

Jamie settled back into her chair, pursing her lips in thought, absentmindedly swirling her glass. “Kind of, yeah. But not all the time—sometimes she would be more like her normal self, the same woman I fell in love with at the Academy.”

“But she was different after she realized she wanted you. The other Spock in my universe says he did the same thing—shut down when he realized he was in love with his Captain.”

“How did you end up with an extra Spock, by the way?”

Jim took a deep drink. Best not to get into details about that. “Long story. Wormhole. Alternate reality. Time travel. He’s 156.”

“Jesus, really? So he’s been away from his Jim for...what?”

“More than a century,” Jim said. They stared at each other for a long moment, the same unspoken fears of hurting Spock, of their own mortality, between them.

Finally Jamie looked away and drained her glass. Jim took the opportunity to do the same.

“I don’t know, Jim. I think you should just ask your Spock.”

“And if I’m right, if he doesn’t feel that way about me? Our working relationship will fall apart.”

Jamie curled forward, her forearms on her knees, hands clasped. She looked so much like him, and it was totally disorienting, like looking into a funhouse mirror. With boobs.

“So just tell him what you found out here, and then you go, ‘Wow, isn’t that weird that we’re married in a bunch of alternate universes?’ See what he says.”

Jim stared into his empty glass. “Yeah, maybe.”

Jamie leaned back and stretched. “In the meantime, if you want a little dose of Spock—I do have one here you could borrow.”

Jim’s head shot up. Jamie was grinning at him, eyebrows raised. She wasn’t joking. Oh god, she wasn’t joking.

“Are you seriously just– offering me your wife? Shouldn’t you ask her first?”

“Are you kidding me? She hasn’t shut up about wanting to fuck you all day. She made me dirty talk about you while I fisted her. Do you know how many times I had to get that Vulcan off tonight?” Jamie shook out her hand. “My wrist is exhausted.”

Jim shoved the heel of his hand against his suddenly attentive dick. The thought of girl-Spock fantasizing about him, maybe trying to work and getting distracted, until she was desperate, until she begged her wife to fuck her over and over again while they talked about him, Jamie’s small, wide hand sliding in and out of Spock’s verdant little pussy—

“Yeah, ok. Yeah. Let’s go.”

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The captain’s quarters were dim except for the glow of a PADD coming from the bedroom; Over Jamie’s shoulder Jim could see Spock working in bed, her long fingers flying across the screen.

“Hey, baby! I have a surprise for you,” said Jamie, practically running into the bedroom. She crawled in next to her wife and Spock glanced at her before quickly shifting her gaze to the doorway. When she saw Jim, her eyes darkened and her mouth parted. She looked back at Jamie questioningly, and at Jamie’s grin and waggled eyebrows, she put her PADD carefully on the nightstand and sat up.

“Lights at 20%,” Jamie said.  

Jim felt suddenly awkward—it wasn’t like he’d never had a threesome, but this was Spock. Not his Spock but still. Spock.

He rubbed the back of his neck and huffed an uncomfortable laugh. “Uh, are you sure this is ok? Jamie said it was, but—”

“If you are attempting to obtain my consent for sexual activity, I assure you that you have it,” Spock said, her voice low and almost gravely with lust. Jesus, did Spock-the-dude sound like that when he was turned on? Like flames were licking the inside of his mouth? How did Jamie ever manage to leave the bedroom?

“Oh. Uh, great.”

Spock rose up onto her knees and Jim’s dick, which had flagged somewhat on the way over, sprang instantly back to life. She was wearing a satiny green nightgown, several shades brighter than her blood-heated skin. Through it, Jim could just make out the dark thatch of hair between her legs and the outline of her nipples, standing at attention under Jim’s scrutiny. She held out one long-fingered hand.

“Come here, Jim.”

Jim nervously reached out and took her hand, letting her pull him onto his knees in the bed, flush against her body. When the strain of his erection pressed into her stomach, she moaned approvingly and Jim wondered if he was going to black out again. He had rarely been this turned on in his life, and he had had a lot of sex.

Spock tilted her head and pressed her mouth against his, and she tasted just like Jim had always imagined Spock would—clean and slightly spicy, like Vulcan tea. He slid his hands down and dug his fingers into her ass and he heard Jamie laugh softly. “Of course you’d go straight for the ass,” she muttered, and Jim suddenly remembered why he was here, about to fuck this alternate Spock, and he pulled away, skin prickling with embarrassment.

“Hey, um,” he said, not meeting their eyes, “I feel pretty… shitty about the fact that I’m not with Spock—I mean, my Spock, or... not my Spock but the Spock from my universe—and I don’t know… how I’m going to react like, I don’t want to get weird or sad and ruin this for you, and—”

Spock touched his chin and made him look at her. “Jim, it is my privilege to give you solace. You are mine to comfort, as I am yours. I am always yours.”

Jim took a deep breath and tried to ignore the heat at the back of his eyes. He allowed himself to bury his face against her neck, the brush of her hair on his cheek. Her hand came to stroke slow lines against his scalp, and she pressed a kiss to his temple. He looked up and her face was so sweet, so open, that he couldn’t help but smile a little. She gave him a small, Vulcan secret of a smile in return, and Jim knew he could do this.

Jamie settled against Spock’s back and slipped the straps of her nightgown down until her breasts came free. They were small and perfectly round, the tight little coins of her areolas as green as grass. For a moment Jim could only gape at them, which gave Jamie the opportunity to reach around and rub them together, showing them off. Spock let out a quiet whine and dropped her head back against Jamie’s shoulder, her heavy-lidded eyes never leaving Jim’s face.

Finally Jim reached out and touched them reverently, like holy relics. He ran his thumbs against the hard points of her nipples, and they tightened further at his touch. He bent down to take one breast in his mouth—almost all of it fit—and someone gripped his hair, whether Spock or Jamie he couldn’t be sure. He pinched Spock’s other nipple and earned a soft little gasp.

“Jim,” she said in that hot, dark voice. “Please proceed to digital manipulation of my exterior genitalia.”

Jim choked a surprised laughed and pulled back, and Jamie met his eyes over Spock’s shoulder with a wicked grin. “Isn’t she adorable?”

Spock huffed in frustration. “I require one of you touching my clitoris immediately,” she said, and damn if Jim hadn’t heard that same pouty tone from his own Spock, except he was usually talking about computers or something; definitely not about responding more quickly to sexual requests.

Jim slid one hand down the soft muscles of Spock’s stomach and into the cleft of her pussy, easily finding her swollen clit and rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. She was soaking wet, the insides of her thighs damp, probably from being fucked so thoroughly by Jamie earlier in the night. Spock groaned and her head fell back against Jamie again, her legs spreading wider to give Jim more access. Jim watched her hungrily as she reached out to grab his shoulders, the Vulcan strength of her fingers almost certainly bruising. Jim wished he could keep those bruises forever.

Jamie was rubbing Spock’s tits in earnest now, nipples pinched between her thumb and forefinger, and Spock was bucking against Jim’s hand. “Please put two fingers inside me but do not stop rubbing my clitoris,” she whispered, and no one had ever been so polite to Jim in bed, let alone sounded so goddamn hot doing it.

With his free hand, Jim slid two fingers against the damp warmth of Spock’s pussy, and when he was satisfied that they were wet enough, he slipped them up inside her. She gasped and reared against him, Jamie’s hands bumping his chest where they were still rubbing Spock’s tits.

“Fuck me hard, please,” Spock said breathlessly, and Jim moaned, working his fingers in and out of her. He had never heard Spock swear and it was almost unbearable.

Spock’s skinny little hands came up to light on Jim’s face, tracing his features with the obvious intent to memorize them. Her eyes were still on him, her mouth open and soft. The very tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and Jim surged forward, needing to kiss her because her mouth was home.

Jamie let go of one of Spock’s breasts and reached around to slip inside Jim’s pajama pants. Her hand was a bit rough, calloused, and the wonderful drag of it against Jim’s cock pulled a whine from his throat. He pushed a third finger inside Spock and finally her eyes closed, legs spreading even farther and shaking slightly with the effort of staying upright.

Jim pumped his fingers high up into her, trying to find the sweet spot that human girls had. He didn’t know if Vulcans had the same internal clitoral structure, but whatever Spock had going on inside her, she liked what Jim was doing to it. She gave a harsh cry and humped against him for a second before gasping, “I must lie down.”

Jamie let go of Jim’s dick and scooted back against the bulkhead, yanking off Spock’s nightgown before letting her wife slip onto her back, head on Jamie’s leg. Spock panted up at Jim, pupils blown wide and her cheeks bright green. “I do not require further preparation. I find I am impatient to have your penis inside of me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jim swore. Jamie chuckled but she was just as wrecked as Jim, her soft cheeks flushed and her own nipples straining against her uniform tunic.

“Hang on,” she said, and slithered out from under Spock, quickly shucking her pants and underwear and throwing them on the floor. Her pubic hair was a little paler than Jim’s, a sweet patch of corn-silk between her freckled, farm-girl legs. Jim couldn’t help a self-satisfied grin. As any gender he was motherfucking precious.

“Wanna see those tits,” he growled, and Jamie flashed him a reflection of his own cocky smile. She yanked off her tunic and undershirt in one go, reaching behind to unfasten her bra without breaking eye contact with Jim. In his peripheral vision Jim could see Spock panting on the bed, her chest heaving with arousal and impatience.

Jamie tossed her bra on the floor and got up in Jim’s space until he could feel the heat of her through his shirt, which he belatedly realized Jamie was stripping off of him. Her tits were the opposite of Spock’s, heavy and full, her stomach round and rosy, her arms and legs powerful with muscle. Her skin had that peachy Midwestern complexion Jim had glimpsed in the backs of cars in his youth, fooling around with girls from school.

Jamie stood on her toes and dipped into Jim’s mouth. He was simultaneously undone with need and pleased with his own kissing skills, which he could only assume matched those of this aggressively sexual woman.

Jamie broke the kiss and said against his mouth, “Let’s get you out of these pants and into my wife, ok?”

Jim tried to say oh my god yes but all that came out was “hnggggg.” Luckily Jamie understood and, with a grin, slid his sweatpants down his legs, letting her tongue dart out once to flick against the head of his cock. Jim’s knees almost buckled, but he managed to recover and step out of his pants while Jamie resumed her position on the bed behind Spock, running her hands all over Spock’s skinny body, her protruding bones and her delicate skin.

Although he could practically feel Spock’s desperation like a tangible thing, Jim stopped for a moment to stare at the two women sprawled together, their right hands finding each other, fingers tangling in a gesture Jim knew was pretty obscene for Vulcans. Spock’s legs were spread wide, knees bent, and Jim had a graphic view of her pussy—swollen and flushed almost apple-green, little clit erect enough that he could easily see it tucked up at the top.   

“Sorry,” he panted, edging closer, “Can I just– can I taste it for a second?”

Spock grinned—grinned—like the cat that got the cream, and reached one hand down to spread herself open further, the other hand still wrapped up with Jamie’s. It was more than invitation enough.

Jim fell to his knees and licked a hot stripe all the way up, flicking over her clit when he got to it and earning an agonized moan. Spock tasted different from human girls and it was so good, musky and peppery and with the faintest hint, unexpectedly, of orange peel, that Jim had to reach down and grip the base of his cock until it hurt so that he wouldn’t come. He licked over Spock’s fingers where they were still holding her lips open, and the shivery wail she let out, followed by a litany of “Jim, Jim, please, Jim!” was about as much as he could take. He stood up on wobbly legs and pushed close, Jamie leaning forward to lick Spock’s cum off his mouth, settling back with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

Jim lifted Spock’s legs up by her knees, gently, softly, afraid he might break her. Spock raised a knowing eyebrow at his hesitation, which she probably felt through the touch of their skin. “I do not need to be handled with such care, Jim. Your counterpart is certainly not gentle with me.”

Jamie smiled, impossibly smug. Jim took a deep breath and tried to get some oxygen back into the upper half of his body.

“Are– are you on birth control or anything?” he managed to stammer.

“Yes, Jim," Spock panted. "I am not currently capable of conception. I do not want a barrier between us.”

Jim groaned and tightened his grip on Spock’s legs. She spread them as wide as they would go and bucked her hips. “Please do not wait any longer,” she said, and it was very nearly a whine.

Jim lined his cock up and pushed inside her, gasping as he slipped all the way in with no resistance. He’d mainly been fucking guys lately to dull the ache of how badly he wanted his first officer, and the easy give of a woman, especially one who was dripping wet, felt like a rare treat.

Spock reached out and gripped Jim’s hips. Her eyes were wide and if Jim didn’t know better he’d say she was in pain. “Please, Jim,” she begged, “I need you to penetrate me roughly and quickly.”

Jim dragged out slowly and then slowly, slowly slid back in. Spock growled and tried to rear up, but Jamie grabbed her arms and pinned her down, practically reading her counterpart’s mind. She and Jim exchanged satisfied grins and Jim tortured Spock a little more, sliding in and out so softly it felt like nothing, watching Spock writhe, whining openly now.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered.

“I want you to penetrate me roughly and quickly,” she repeated, in a strangled approximation of the tone apparently universal to bitchy, exasperated Spocks.

He leaned down, buried deep within her, and said against her mouth, “Tell me what you want without the attitude, Commander.”

Spock groaned, her body trembling. “Please fuck me hard, I want you to fuck me hard, please, please fuck me,” she practically sobbed, undone beneath him, and Jim took pity on them both and started slamming into her.

Spock’s back arched and she cried out, grabbing Jamie’s hand again. Jim gripped Spock’s legs and swung them up onto his shoulders, fucking her as deep as he could, pounding again and again against the sensitive spot he’d found earlier.

Jamie reached over to rub around Spock’s slit, feeling Jim’s cock going in and out. The touch of her fingers ratcheted up the already unbearable level of pleasure, and it didn’t help when she reached slightly farther forward to knead Jim’s balls in her wide palm. She was humping her own pussy against Spock’s back, and from the color high on her cheeks and her heaving breaths, Jim was guessing she could come like that.

She proved him right a few minutes later by throwing her head back and keening as she jerked roughly against her wife, the hand twined in Spock’s clinging to her as if for support. Spock’s eyes rolled back in her head and Jim could only imagine how hot and wet Jamie must have felt against her skin, not to mention the reverberation of Jamie’s orgasm in her own head through the touch of their bond.

Jim grabbed Spock’s ass and canted her hips even more, holding her up and beating into her with abandon. She didn’t last very long at this new, even deeper angle, and Jim forced himself to keep his eyes open and watch as she started to clench up, wailing and wild as she exploded around him. Seeing Spock so unbridled, ripped so far away from logic, was more than enough to send Jim tumbling over the edge after her. He chanted “Spock, Spock,” as he locked in, hips twitching and cock pumping her full of come.

The three of them collapsed in a panting heap, the double Starfleet-issue bed not nearly big enough for all of them, but no one cared. With a weak little moan, Spock rolled onto her side and curled up against Jim, her head on his chest and an arm across him. Jamie tucked up behind her and she hummed happily, surrounded by Kirks.

Jim held onto this skinny, remarkable woman, breathing in the scent of her hair and trying to burn her into his memory. He fell asleep with her hand running up and down his chest, her freely given affection a bittersweet token for Jim to take home.

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Spock left early for the science labs the next morning with a kiss for both the man and the woman sprawled in her bed, holding her hair behind her ear as she leaned down over Jim. Jamie rolled out of bed a few minutes later with a groan, but Jim reached out and tugged her back down by the waist.

“I like to jerk off in the morning,” he said, rolling her onto her back and crawling on top of her. “This is, like, the same, but better.”

Jamie chuckled and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Innovative thinking, Captain,” she breathed into his mouth.

When they were fucked out and showered, the two Kirks sat at either side of Jamie's desk, drinking coffee and reading the gamma shift reports on Jim's predicament. Scotty and Spock had been trying to find a way to re-create and control the exact conditions of Jim’s arrival. It looked like progress had been made by their respective staffs during the night, and in all likelihood Jim would be able to at least try to get home that day.  

After an hour or so, Jamie stood up and stretched. “I’ve gotta get to the bridge. Want a tour?”

“Sure,” Jim said. “I wanna see the lady bridge crew.”

Jamie shot him a stern look over her shoulder. “There will be absolutely no flirting on my bridge, Mr. Kirk. Is that clear?”

Jim held up his hands. “I would never! I’m a professional too, you know. Also I’m, like, the biggest queer in the galaxy so if I was going to flirt on the bridge the gender wouldn't exactly matter. Not that I would.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, but seemed satisfied with him.

While she was trying to brush the tangles out of her messy hair—clearly the entire extent of her hair care regimen—she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, like she was trying to say something and kept losing her nerve.

“Everything ok?” Jim asked, leaning back in his chair and tipping it onto two legs.

Jamie tossed the brush back on her desk and shook her hair out with her fingers. “Yeah. I just have kind of a weird favor to ask you.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Ok. I’m listening.”

------------------------------------------------------------

After the completion of Jamie’s secret errand, Jim met and gawked at each member of his genderbent bridge crew—petite, muscley Sulu with a pixie cut and steely eyes; little jailbait Chekhov who was apparently 20 but had her curly hair in pigtails and looked about 16; chubby, jovial Scotty with ruddy cheeks and grease stains on her uniform, hair pulled back but fraying everywhere; and Uhura—tall and lithe and absolutely a dude. Jim hadn’t expected that one, although he probably should have. They were all friendly and familiar and eerily similar to the officers Jim knew. Scotty gave him a firm handshake and promised him she was working hard on getting him back home, and subsequently left for Engineering.

Jim had been on the bridge for half an hour when the turbolift door opened and Spock came striding in. All of her easy expressions and soft smiles were gone, replaced by the rigid Vulcan countenance Jim recognized all too well. Jim knew his Spock was much less closed-off in private than he was on the bridge, but was it possible that he too could go all the way to the other extreme—filthy and demonstrative and sweet one night and then completely Vulcan in the morning? The thought made Jim desperate to know, and simultaneously desolate that he would probably never find out.

“Captain,” Spock said, striding up to her wife. Her eyes lit on Jim for a moment and he imagined they warmed almost imperceptibly, but he couldn’t be sure.

Jamie hadn’t noticed Spock arrive and turned around at the sound of her voice. “Oh hello, Commander. Do you have an update on getting Jim back to his ship?” Her smile was wide and open but it was clear that she was also holding back. They seemed to have a very functional working relationship (Jamie’s communicator flirting of the previous day notwithstanding—Jim was pretty sure that no version of James Kirk could be professional 100% of the time), and Jim marveled at it. They had obviously put so much work into fitting their lives together. It looked effortless, but there was no way it was.

“Yes, Captain,” Spock was saying. “Lieutenant Commander Scott and I are ready to attempt to re-create the conditions of Captain Kirk’s arrival. We estimate an 87.685% probability of successfully returning him to his rightful universe.”

“Excellent, Commander. Well, Jim—ready to give it a go?”

------------------------------------------------------------

In the empty transporter room, Jamie tugged Jim into a bear hug. “Thanks,” she said against his ear. “You know—for everything.”

“My pleasure, Captain.”

Jamie pulled back and smiled up at him. “I don’t know if this will work, but I figured we’d better say goodbye now, just in case.”

“Good thinking,” said Jim, squeezing her shoulders. Behind her, Spock was standing straight-backed and expressionless, which Jim realized with a little shock was hiding a swell of sadness.

When Jim let Jamie go and came over to her, Spock tried to give him a small smile, but didn’t entirely succeed. “I am pleased to have met you, Jim,” she said. “It was unexpectedly… emotionally significant.”

“Yeah,” Jim said, a little gruffly. “For me, too.”

They faced each other hesitantly for a moment before Spock leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, Jim’s arms going automatically around her. “You should inform your Spock of your feelings for him,” she said into Jim’s neck. “I cannot imagine a reality in which I do not love you.”

Jim closed his eyes and tightened his hold on her.

Spock leaned up and gave him a quiet little kiss, then slipped away, back to her wife’s side. Jamie put an arm around her and flipped open her communicator to call Scotty as Jim climbed onto the transporter pad, suddenly exhausted.

Scotty came bustling in, not blinking an eye at Spock leaning into the Captain’s hold on her shoulder, Jamie’s thumb rubbing absently up and down her arm. Scotty started adjusting the control panels and a faint hum, which Jim could feel more than hear, filtered up from the floor of the transporter. Spock pulled (somewhat reluctantly) away from Jamie and joined the chief engineer at the controls. She took a few readings and modified something on the panel, then raised her head and announced, “We are ready.”

Jamie smiled at him. “See you around, Captain. Energize.”

------------------------------------------------------------

The burning white light and the buzzing enveloped him once again, but this time they were much shorter lived. After only a few seconds Jim landed hard on another transporter pad and stumbled, falling promptly on his ass.

Staring at him from behind the controls was his very own Spock. Jim tried for a relieved grin but it came out wan and a little sad.

“I’m assuming you’re the right Spock? I’m not in another alternate universe?”

Spock recovered from the surprise of Jim suddenly appearing on the transporter, and hurried over to help him to his feet. “You are in the correct universe, Captain. I have been attempting to retrieve you for 27.46 hours, but have been unsuccessful. How did you manage to return?”

Jim made his way off the transporter pad and out of the transporter room, Spock close behind and falling into step with him as soon as they were in the hallway. Jim knew he was walking a little too fast, and he tried to believe that he wasn’t doing it to flee from Spock. It was just that... not having him was almost worse now, after getting such a tantalizing taste of what their life together could be like.

Not that it mattered—Spock could keep pace with him no matter how fast he walked.

“Captain?” Spock prompted, and Jim realized he hadn’t answered him.

“Oh. You and Scotty from the other universe I was in figured it out. They re-created the conditions of the ion storm that landed me there. I’ll write the details up for you in a little while. Right now I just kind of want to fall into bed.”

“Of course, Captain,” Spock said softly.

They entered the turbolift in silence but when Jim requested Deck 5, Spock said, “I do suggest you visit Dr. McCoy before you retire.”

Jim waved his hand. “I have no desire to lie in sickbay for the next three hours. I’ll call him and tell him I’m back and he’ll come to me.” He gave Spock a half-hearted smile. “Trust me, I’ve done it before. Works like a charm. Doesn’t even realize I’m tricking him into a house call.”

The lift opened on their deck and they strode toward the officers’ quarters. “Innovative,” Spock said, “if inconsiderate.”

Jim gritted his teeth. He missed entirely the little spark of amusement in Spock’s eyes that was supposed to convey his approval of Jim’s plan.

Jim swept into his quarters and was about to say goodbye to Spock over his shoulder when he realized Spock had followed him in and was standing to the side of the door, hands behind his back.

“Mr. Spock?”

“You must at least give me a preliminary incident report, Captain. I am required to inform Starfleet of your return and that I have passed control of the ship back to you. It would appear unprofessional were I to have no information other than the fact that you are here.”

Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes. Another headache was rapidly forming behind them. “Yeah, ok. I’m gonna lie down, though.”

He dragged himself into the bedroom and sagged onto his back, legs hanging over the end of his bed. Just last night, in a bed that looked almost exactly like this, he and Spock had fucked and Jim had felt right in his skin for the first time in a long time. He closed his eyes.

“Captain?” Spock said from the doorway, but it was hesitant. “Have I… done something to upset you or incur your frustration?”

“Huh?” Jim sat up on his elbows and looked Spock over, finding his posture surprisingly unsure. “Wha– no. No, not at all, Spock. Sorry– I’m just– in a bad mood.” He left off the mainly because I’m in love with you and this is apparently the only universe in which we are not disgustingly happy bondmates.

When Spock didn’t answer, Jim flopped back down and said to the ceiling, “So the ion storm sent me to an alternate reality where everything was basically the same, except everyone’s genders were reversed. Or at least, everyone I met. Girl-me was named Jamie and she was a total badass—no surprise there. The alternate you and the alternate Scotty and their combined staff worked overnight to find a way to return me to this universe and it worked on the first try, and here I am. Oh, and the girl versions of us were married, like we are in literally every other universe we’ve ever heard of, and all the ones they’ve encountered as well. But I don’t know if that’s relevant to your report. So there you go. That’s it, in a nutshell.”

The ensuing silence went on so long that Jim finally lifted his head to look at Spock, unable to resist gauging his reaction. His face, unsurprisingly, was expressionless. Jim let his head fall back in defeat, but he remembered that Jamie’s advice had been to ask Spock what he thought about the proliferation of Kirk and Spock marriage bonds, not just throw the information at him and see what happened. So, tentatively, he said, “Do you think it’s weird that we’re married in all these different realities and timelines?”

Spock’s answer was quiet, but Jim was listening so hard for it he could have heard it two rooms away.

“No, I do not find it surprising. We are compatible individuals.”

Jim’s breathing picked up, but he didn’t let himself move. “We’re basically the least compatible individuals in the galaxy. We’re practically opposites.”

Spock didn’t answer for a long moment, but Jim forced himself not to look.

“Captain, I enjoy our friendship because of our differences, not in spite of them. Although you are emotional and illogical, your influence on me has improved my ability to balance those forces of logic and emotion in my own mind. I apologize if I have had the opposite effect on you.”

Jim shot up. “No! No, Spock, that’s not what I meant. Not at all. I feel the same way—you reigning me in and arguing logic with me is basically the whole reason I’m a good captain. We wouldn’t have such a high efficiency rating as a command team if we didn’t balance each other out so well.”

Spock’s dark eyes stared at him. The room felt hot and electric, like Iowa air before a big summer storm.

“And yet you do not believe us to be compatible?”

“Well, I... When it comes to a bondmate, I assumed you'd want another Vulcan, or at least someone a little more like you. I figured you kind of just… tolerate me. I mean, I know you like me and stuff, I know we’re friends, I know you cried when I was dying in the transporter and I know you saved my life, but… I don’t know, it just seems like we’re two officers who’ve been through a lot together, that you respect me and kind of like hanging out with me but that’s about it.”

Spock finally looked away. “That is not accurate. I am closer to you than any other individual. You are the closest friend I have ever had. I am not… I find it logical that I have pursued you for a bondmate in alternate lifetimes.”

“So why not this one?”

It was out of his mouth before Jim could stop it. Goddamnit he needed to listen to Bones about thinking before he spoke.

Spock looked up in surprise. “I– I had not–”

Jim held up a hand. “Sorry. That was incredibly inappropriate. Pretend I didn’t–”

“Jim!” Spock interrupted, taking an aborted step toward the bed. He paused and visibly steeled himself. “Although I certainly have the impulse to make them, I did not believe any romantic overtures on my part would be returned in kind. Was I mistaken?”

Jim rapidly translated the Spockspeak and realized what Spock was saying, and his heart leapt into his throat.

“Yes,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “You were mistaken.”

Spock’s shoulders drooped in the most visible display of relief Jim had ever seen him make. “Oh. I see.”

A few moments of awkward silence drew out between them. Finally Jim stood up, taking a deep breath, and Spock met his eyes hopefully, almost shy.

“I feel like I should probably tell you that I had sex with girl-you in the alternate universe. Also with girl-me but more relevantly with girl-you.”

Spock’s expression shifted immediately, his eyebrows jumping up in confusion and, Jim was pretty sure, a little bit of jealousy.

Jim shrugged self-consciously. “She felt bad for me. And also thought I was really, really hot.”

Spock closed his eyes in that way he always did when Jim was just too illogical for him to bear. “If I may, what cause did she stipulate for pitying you?” he asked, his voice more than a little strained.

“Um, well the two of them were all, you know, lovey-dovey, happy-pants bondmates and I was pretty clear about the fact that I’ve been drowning in unrequited love for like three years so being around them was miserable. So they gave me… well, girl-me called it a ‘little dose of Spock.’”

Spock’s eyes popped open in shocked Vulcan propriety. Jim shrugged again, starting to feel legitimately concerned that he had just fucked this whole thing up, but then Spock’s eyes softened.

“Did you just indicate that you have been hiding this from me for three years?”

“Uh, well… yeah.”

Spock stepped forward and finally closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to rest lightly on Jim’s face. Jim instantly closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“You should have informed me earlier, Jim.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” Jim mumbled, a little embarrassed but not enough to stop him rubbing one cheek against of the palm of Spock’s hand.

“Why did you assume you would lose me?”

“Cause, you know. Why would you want to serve under a Captain you don’t want romantically who’s pining away for you?”

“You were most incorrect in your assessment that I do not want you.”

Jim finally opened his eyes and met Spock’s. Fuck, he could lose himself in all that warm brown, each pupil a perfect drop of ink.

“But you… you didn’t seem like anything had changed, you know? Jamie said that girl-Spock got weird after she realized she was in love with her. Got distant and stuff. And the other you—I mean, our other you, the old man—he said that he did the same thing. He said he tried to do fucking kolinahr just to try to stop loving his version of me. You never did anything like that.”

Spock rubbed his thumbs over Jim’s cheekbones and then let his hands slip down to Jim’s waist, tugging him a little closer.

“Although I do not know the circumstances of my female counterpart’s life, I do know something of of my elder counterpart’s. He did not face anything as extreme as the loss of his planet before he fell in love with his captain. I have had to grapple with the power and depth of my emotions much earlier in life. I still struggle with finding a balance between emotion and logic, but I was nonetheless better prepared than my counterpart—or, presumably, this female alternate—to process the fact that I had fallen in love with you. Although I was initially… taken aback by the strength of my regard, I was still able to acclimate to this reality without it affecting my behavior toward you. As I assumed you did not reciprocate, I merely learned to accept that our relationship was a friendship, nothing more, and that I would have to be content with that.”

“So you didn’t tell me for the same reason—you didn’t want to lose me.”

“That is essentially correct, yes.”

“So we were both idiots.”

Spock’s lips quirked. “Perhaps.”

Jim figured this was as good a time as any to sling his arms around Spock’s neck and kiss him, driving his tongue forward to find that clean, spicy taste. Spock tightened his hold on Jim and eagerly let him in, and Jim whimpered and wobbled unsteadily when the coveted taste filled his senses. Spock pressed him tighter still, holding him up, and began walking him backward until they fell onto the bed. Spock’s weight on top of Jim was just this side of too much, but Jim would happily have stayed just here, forever, protected and reassured by the iron press of Vulcan muscle.

When their lips parted briefly, Jim panted, “I’m so glad I listened to girl-us.”

Spock lifted onto his forearms, lessening the weight on Jim’s body somewhat. “In regards to what?”

“They were pretty adamant that I tell you how I feel. They both seemed really uncomfortable with the idea of any version of us not being together. Girl-you said—” Spock leaned back in to start trailing his tongue down Jim’s throat and he had to really focus to finish his thought,  “—she couldn’t imagine a reality where she didn’t love me.”

Spock’s mouth stilled, his tongue replaced with a small, soft kiss against Jim’s skin, before he rolled away onto his side, looking down into Jim’s eyes. “I am glad that they were kind to you. It is gratifying to know that, in any universe, it is my inclination to protect you.”

Jim smiled over at him. “Is it ok with you that I slept with them?”

“You and I were not in a relationship at the time. I had no say in your choice of sexual partners.”

“Are we in a relationship now?”

“Yes. Obviously. Thus I request that you no longer engage in sexual activity with others.”

Jim rolled on his side and pressed their bodies together, face-to-face, grinning. “Request granted, Mr. Spock. You do honor to the rank of Commander of Jealousy.”

Spock gave him a withering look before kissing him again, snaking an arm around his waist and reaching down to squeeze his ass with bruising force. Jim pulled back and raised his eyebrows. “You always move this fast? Gotta say, I’m a little surprised.”

Spock tried to glare at him again but it was clearly sheepish. “Although I have not engaged in as much sexual activity as you have, I am by no means inexperienced or prudish.” His eyes darted to the side and a faint green flush crept up his cheeks. “Additionally, I admit that I feel possessive knowing another version of myself has had you so recently, and I wish to... stake my claim, as it were.”

A hot shiver ran up Jim’s spine. He was about to kiss Spock again and lay his body open to be claimed when Spock said, practically muttering now, “And also I am aroused by the mental image of you engaging in sex with both your own and my female alternate.”

Jim laughed. “You’re a dirty little Vulcan, huh? That doesn’t surprise me. Girl-you was pretty naughty.”

Spock finally met his eyes again. “I would like, if you are amenable, to hear a full account of this sexual experience at a later time.”

Jim grinned, “Oh, I’m definitely amenable to that. But you’re not allowed to be jealous about it. It was too important to me.”

Spock twined his fingers in Jim’s, rubbing their thumbs together. “I agree to your terms. I suppose I must be grateful to these women if it was them who encouraged you to come to me, and if they gave you an experience of emotional import. We owe them much.”

“Well, I gave them something pretty big in return so I think we’re even.”  

“What did you give them?”

“Some of my sperm.”

Spock jerked back and stared at him in horror.

“What?” Jim said defensively, “They want to have a baby someday and this way it’s practically both of theirs biologically! It’s super logical!”

“You will have offspring in an alternate universe. A part of you will exist that it utterly unreachable.”

“It wouldn’t be my kid. Just because my junk helped make it doesn’t make me its parent. It’s kind of just like… me giving Jamie some of my cells that she doesn’t have in her own body but still come from her. Does that make any sense?”

Spock stared at him skeptically. “Very little.”

“I was trying to be generous!”

Spock pursed his lips. “I must concede that it was very generous.”

“You are so not allowed to be possessive of my sperm when we’ve been together for like five minutes.”

Spock sighed huffily, which meant he knew Jim was right. “I suppose I will have to content myself with possessing your entire body, as I posited earlier.”

Jim bit his lip around a grin. He rolled onto his back and spread his arms and legs, glancing meaningfully down at his crotch. “This stake is totally ready to be claimed, Mr. Spock.”

Spock rolled his eyes, not bothering to keep the expression in check, and that simple demonstration of trust and openness had Jim’s heart swooping even as they teased each other. Spock too seemed to realize that they were, in many ways, filling the space between each exchanged word with silent promises. He ran a hand through Jim’s hair, taking in the sight of him, before he bent down to kiss him once again.

Static buzzed between them, the storm breaking, an explosion of lightning.