If You Can't Be With the One You Love, Honey.... Chapter 8/8. (part 1)

[1lostone]

Title: If You Can’t Be With The One You Love, Honey…
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count:  36K.
Status: Complete!
Paring: K/S  (Background Uhura/Bones)
Warnings:  ALL OF THE KINKS are in this chapter.
Summary: Spock has a… not all together logical reaction to Captain Kirk’s constant disregard for his own safety on away missions.
Beta: jademac2442  (Although I fiddled with it after she gave it back, so any mistakes are all on me!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4   Chapter 5 Part I Chapter 6 Pt 1 Chapter 7 part 1

---

CHAPTER 8

“You seem surprised to see me.”

“I-- uh. Yeah, you can say that. Sorry about that, Spock. Let me just. Err... find a shirt.” It was a little hot in Jim’s small dorm room- likely from the shower.

Jim watched as the calm face almost cracked a smile. The elegant eyebrow quirked up in what could only be called amusement.  

Jim knew he had to be blushing by the way his face seemed to practically glow in the faint light from his desk lamp. He had been studying, looking over the shift reports from his short stint as Captain. Bones had called him crazy for wanting to finish reading the damn things before his hearing tomorrow.  And maybe he was. But it helped him to get a clearer picture of everything that had happened while he’d been on Delta Vega, Vulcan, and Nero’s ship.  He had been at it for at least seven hours, and was seeing the reflection of the words on the PADD when he shut his eyes.

He’d gone to take a shower to wake himself up, and had been interrupted by the soft chime of his door, indicating that he had a visitor.

He certainly hadn’t expected to see freaking Spock standing there of all people. Especially since the rest of his academic hearing was tomorrow. Shit, he was still technically on academic probation. Jim was conscious of every healing mark on his body- and how most of them had gotten there- as he stood there, little rivulets of water sliding down his skin. He hadn’t done laundry before he left Earth, and had to bend a little to get some casual clothes out of his bottom drawer. He stole a quick glance at the Vulcan studying his bookshelf with his hands clasped behind his back, his brain screaming at him. This was so weird. What the hell was Spock doing here?

“You know what we shared.” Spock’s voice still seemed amused. Amused at what, Jim thought. The situation? The fact that he was in Jim’s hellaciously disorganized dorm room?

“Yes.”

-but wait...-

“I ask that you allow me into your mind, Jim.”

Hearing Spock call him ‘Jim’ sent an almost full-body shiver down his spine. Jim’s breath caught in his chest. “But, I thought that... that was too, uh. Intimate. That the emotional transference--”

“True. But, Jim. You misjudge the dynamics of your mind. Or possibly, you misjudge the dynamics of my mind. I can hear stray thoughts as you sleep. As you walk about your business. When you dream.”

At Spock’s simple declaration, all the wetness in Jim’s mouth dried up completely. The dreams? Spock saw his... dreams? “Uh..”

“Indeed. I wish to meld with you again, Jim. You will come to no harm. I am skilled enough to show you the proper techniques and disengage myself from your thought processes.”
“Wait.” After mind-numbing shift reports, this was coming a little fast. “You wanna. Uh. Enter my mind?”

“Essentially, yes.”

That sounded incredibly dirty.

“Jim.”

Jim opened his mouth, noticing that as Spock spoke he had taken another step closer. His heartbeat increased, his tongue darting out to moisten his lip. It was so hot all of the sudden. He felt as though his whole body had been coated in a fine sheen of sweat.

“Jim.”

Spock’s mouth crashed down onto his for the briefest of kisses, his fingertips sliding against--

“Captain!.” A low growl near his ear.

Jim blinked his eyes open, feeling all at once overheated and sticky from the elevated heat of the room. He shifted, uncomfortable, the sheet slithering off the bed and onto the floor. The room was instantly familiar; the slight reddish light from the corner gave him a point of reference. Spock. Spock’s room. Spock’s bed.

There was a sharp movement to Jim’s left, but before he could turn, Spock was pinning him to the mattress with his body, his lips on Jim’s almost bruising with the intensity of the movement.  Spock slanted his mouth, licking into Jim’s with the same focus that he applied to everything else.  

Jim, who never was the most coherent when he first woke up, felt overwhelmed by Spock’s onslaught. He tried to shift a little so that he could get his arms around Spock, but the slight rocking of his body only caused Spock to make that deep, possessive sound in his throat that until just now, Jim didn’t realize that he’d been waiting to hear again. Spock moved so quickly that Jim had no time to react. Within mere seconds, Jim’s arms were stretched up above his head, Spock’s hands tightening on that fine line of almost too painful, holding him to the mattress, tearing his mouth away to look down at Jim with eyes narrowed in anger.

“Spock?” Jim’s lips felt swollen and full, and he licked at them, noticing that Spock briefly followed the movement with his tongue for staring back down into Jim’s widened, confused eyes. Spock’s deceptively lean frame rested so that Jim could feel the bulge of Spock’s dick against his hip, impossibly hot.

For one second, the thought flashed bright in Jim’s mind: What would Spock feel like inside of him? Jim could feel his own cock start to harden, thickening quickly enough that he felt a little light-headed.

Jim thought Spock wasn’t going to speak.

“I have accepted the fact that you will never cease putting yourself into danger.” Spock’s thumbs stroked over the pulse points in Jim’s wrists. “Logically, I accept that this is inevitable.” The tightness of his fingers spoke otherwise; the strength of Spock's fingers along the thin, fragile skin of Jim’s wrist told him that while the Vulcan side of Spock might ‘accept’ certain facets of Jim’s job, the human side was pretty fucking pissed.

Jim didn’t know what to say. He flexed his fingers, as though he couldn’t help himself, staring stupidly up at Spock. He opened his dry mouth, his lips still feeling like they were two sizes too big.  “Spock? What? What’s wrong?”

“Why will you not tell me who it is that you dream of?” Spock’s voice sounded so frustrated, so hurt, so human for a second that Jim could only blink at him feeling like he was given a script with missing pages.

“You,” Jim blurted. He was shocked at the flash of pain in Spock’s eyes. Spock started to shift away from Jim, and he just reacted; knowing that it would turn out badly if Spock shut down now. Jim bucked, bringing his legs up and tightening them around Spock’s waist, crossing his bare legs over Spock’s ass. Jim sucked in a sharp breath at how good it felt.  

“I do not think-”

“Spock. Really. I was dreaming of you. Well, what happened with Old You, but in my dream I changed it so it was you there in my room fiddling with my head instead of him and-”

It wasn’t often that Jim got to see a classic Does. Not. Compute. face on Spock’s familiar features. Well, okay. He’d never seen evidence of Spock’s total confusion. He would have smiled, but Spock chose that moment to transfer his hold on Jim so that Spock could hold both of Jim’s wrists in one hand, freeing his right hand to do sort of a push-up so that he could roll off of Jim.

Jim just tightened his thighs, trying to tell his cock to ignore the hot, tight body on top of him and to pay attention to the serious business that was currently going on.

They eyed each other for a moment, both knowing that they could break free if they truly wanted to; both of them too stubborn to be the first to do so.

“Look. Okay. So I’m gonna take it from the lack of explosions that the dire consequences aren’t all that dire. Or all that consequential. Other you completely played me!” Jim pouted a little. “So much for Vulcans not being able to lie. Maybe only ancient, timeline-traveling, manipulative Vulcans can lie.”

Jim didn’t miss the faint look of guilt that flashed in Spock’s expressive eyes. He filed it away for later examination. “Right. Well, so like I said. I guess I was broadcasting everything I was thinking. He just showed up at my door, and then asked if he could ‘assist me .’ Don’t look like that. It wasn’t nearly as porny as I dreamed it was. It was weird as fuck if you must know.” Jim wiggled a little, experimentally, almost smirking when he saw Spock’s gaze focus again, sharp and intense on his own.  “He had a really logical argument, too. Said that I’d be coming into all sorts of telepathic species in my life. Hell, he proved his point, given that he was the first ‘telepathic species’ to ever do that whadoyacallit, the meld, with--”

Spock reacted like he Jim had suddenly sat up and slapped him.

“You allowed him to meld with you.” There was that voice again. Jim’s whole body shivered when Spock’s eyes darkened.

Jim licked his lips. “There were some pretty serious extenuating circumstances.” He’d meant to sound cocky, but instead his voice sounded pretty meek. He watched as the fingers on Spock’s free hand flex, ghosting over his face before balling into a fist onto the mattress next to where Jim lay.  “Spock. You can. It’s okay.”

“That would be inadvisable at this time. My.. control is not … is not what it should be.”

Jim understood what it must have cost Spock to confess that. He bit his lip and turned his head, straining his neck a little to brush his temple against Spock’s tightened fist. His throat tightened when he saw Spock’s eyelids flutter shut for a moment.

“Spock.” Jim reached up and kissed Spock softly. The kiss was chaste, gentle. It caused his whole body to thrum, like a harpstring tightened too tightly. “It’s okay.” Still Spock hesitated. “I know you’ve melded with--” With a curse Jim broke off speaking. He dropped his legs, a sudden humuliation causing him to almost feel nauseous as he realized that Spock must not want to meld... with Jim.  “Of course. I guess I knew that. I’m sorry. Look, I should probably check in with Bones and--”

Jim turned his face away, not wanting to see the pity on Spock’s face. Jim’s mind was whirling, thoughts hitting him with a deadly precision.  His voice had this horrible grating note of completely false cheerfulness.  He hadn’t ever felt so stupid before in his life, and that was really saying something.

Spock’s fingers shifted, his other hand releasing Jim’s wrist as Spock slid his hand down to cup the side of Jim’s face.

“Ashayam. You misunderstand.”

Jim froze. Ashayam?

“You are truly sure that you wish this? I was not speaking in error. My control has been less than optimal since your return to the Enterprise. I have found myself acting impulsively, illogically. I do not wish for you to be--- startled by what you will see in my mind.”

Jim just nodded, smiling a little. “Same goes. Don’t let me guilt you into doing something that you don’t want.”

He felt the brush of Spock’s fingers on his face, the almost singing bolt of awareness when his fingers slid onto the meld points. He had time for a quick breath, hardly hearing Spock’s whispered words over the pounding of his heart and

--he was furious at the first glimpse of seeing Jim on top of Nyota, their bodies connected intimately before being sickened at the realization that they were hurt, then Jim was screaming and Doctor McCoy was pushing him out  and he was absolutely floored with the knowledge that he wasn’t jealous of Jim being with Nyota, but of Nyota touching Jim.--

--he is kind of freaked out the the ancient Vulcan that wears Spock’s face. Well, okay Spock’s face in like eight hundred years, and is nervous at the way the old man sort of springs at him, babbling something about always being his friend, but that’s completely impossible. Spock hates him. Spock stuck him on this fucking ice cube and wouldn’t listen- kept ignoring the fact that for once Jim knew, absolutely knew that he was right Goddamnit then everything is rushing towards him and he’s conscious of an crushing sadness that is going to kill him, his heart is going to break any second, any minute--

-- he would never claim to the hovering that the insulting, unprofessional doctor had accused him of, but nevertheless, there he stood, watching Jim sleep on the medical bed. Dodging both the doctor and Nyota had become quite tedious. Then something was wrong, and he was rushing forward, his only thought to protect, to somehow stop Jim’s pain and he touches Jim’s skin only to be bombarded by images of Jim running, in grave danger... danger for which he was responsible.---

   
--he’s so fucking turned on. He stops himself from humping the practice mat only         by remembering that he’s the fucking Captain, and he’s in the middle of a busy room. Spock’s voice is low in his ear and he’s shivering, his cock so hard that he can feel the slippery precome wetting his shorts, his balls drawn up so tightly that just the slightest bit  of friction, that he has to say whateverthefuckever so Spock will get up before he finds out just how much he’s twisted their friendship--

  --he does not notice the rocks that cut into his flesh, conscious only of a             desperate need to hang on, that Jim’s life is his and he will not give up will not let go will not, notnotNOT then the rush of release as  he jerks his arms and Jim is safe and his  and safe and safe and---

--he can’t quite wrap his head around Spock doing this, Spock kissing him until he can’t even think coherently, Spock’s hand on his cock as he works him back and forth and fuck, fuck it feels so good that he can’t keep his eyes open, can’t keep looking at that slightly wild look on Spock’s-- Spock’s!-- face as he feels his body start to shudder, helpless and desperate and fucking hell--

-- he sees his Jim standing next to Chang and is so furious for a moment that he is afraid that the heat of his gaze is visible to the bridge crew as well as to Jim as he stares blithely back at Spock from Chang’s ship. It was always easier for him to feel rage than any other human emotion, and now as he watched Jim watching him it bubbled up over the surface. His gaze shifted slightly to the smug Klingon standing near Jim. This is the man that orchestrated the events that almost, if not for the tenacity and pure stubbornness of Doctor McCoy would have resulted in Jim’s death several times over. His gaze narrows on Chang’s bright eye.  He will pay for his crimes. He will pay for keeping Jim from him--

Jim blinks out of the meld. He would laugh at the sheepish look on Spock’s face, except that he was pretty damn sure that the same look was on his own.

“Oh.”

“.. Indeed.”

Jim blinked, his tongue snaking out to wet his bottom lip. It might have been just a nervous habit, but watching Spock watch his mouth was addictive as hell. Jim leaned forward and kissed the corner of Spock’s mouth. Spock didn’t move, but his whole body relaxed, like he had been worried.

Jim slid his lips over Spock’s cheekbones, then over to Spock’s ear. “You know, for someone who claims to have a few emotions,” Jim whispered enjoying the tables being turned for once, “You tend to show me a lot of them.”

Spock stiffened, and Jim nipped the top point of the ear. “Quit that. I’m not complaining. It’s fucking hot that you really let me see you. Of course, when I first started noticing it was more the snippy-phaser-up-your-ass attitude when I handed your ass to you during chess, but hey.” Jim got distracted by the point of Spock’s ear, licking and nibbling, using the way Spock would tense, or suck in a sharp breath, or simple freeze in one spot as a guide.
Jim moved away from Spock’s ear, tightening his fingers on Spock’s shoulders, sliding so that he was on top of Spock, straddling his pelvis.  Spock’s hands drifted down onto Jim’s hips, moving him to where he wanted him.

Jim approved; his breath shuddering. He bent, his hands sliding down Spock’s arms as he maneuvered himself so that he was able to kiss at Spock’s chest.  He couldn’t seem to stop himself; licking and nibbling and over the black shirt that Spock slept in. He felt like he had no secrets. He felt charged; his skin fairly humming from the way that Spock’s fingers slid up each side of Jim’s back, the slight nails scoring just enough over his skin that it Jim couldn’t seem to sit still. Spock’s cock was trapped under Jim’s ass, and each wiggle caused them both to suck in breath. Jim wanted to be able to taste Spock’s skin.

“Take off your shirt?”

Spock’s eyebrow quirked, and fuck if it still wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Jim just rolled his eyes, sitting back a little. Spock’s eyes narrowed as he tightened his stomach muscles, leaning up just far enough that he could pull off the tight-fitting pajama shirt. Jim was on him,  shifting off of Spock’s cloth-covered cock and down his body, his intent clear. He lipped at the chest hair, pulling slightly, amazed that he would be doing such a thing. Jim could feel Spock’s heart thrumming in his side, and he nuzzled his face against it, breathing deeply. Spock didn’t sweat, but he still had had a scent that was driving Jim crazy. He nuzzled up to Spock’s armpits, biting a little at the skin there, then down his ribs to taste at his navel.

“Funny. I never pictured you with an innie.” Jim’s soft, amused whisper caused a sound very much like a snort from Spock, and Jim realized that Spock wasn’t being vocal at all.
Much like in the shower, Spock was reacting to Jim’s touches and kisses, but silently.
Jim looked up, meeting Spock’s gaze from between Spock’s legs. Spock’s hands had moved from Jim’s back as Jim moved down his body and now rested on top of the mattress. Jim could see that the muscles were tense.

“Spock? Am I.. not doing something right here?”

NEXT....