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Jim should have known that sharing a room with Spock would not end up well. Truthfully, he had hoped it would end like the raunchy stories he read when he was younger. Staying up late and reading by the old lamp at his bedside about tragedies disguised as taboo love stories. How he longed for it so much that he failed to specify the love and instead received only tragedy. As if the universe itself was going out of its way to place misery in his path.
And when he first met Spock, first laid eyes upon him in the crowded auditorium, he could feel the way his breath caught in his throat. His gaze locked on slender fingers that gripped the edge of his uniform and pulled it down taught. Those same fingers that he would find wrapped around his throat hours later as he was slammed onto the bridge's console; his breathing labored and cock half hard as he rolled his hips into Spock’s. A voice in the back of his mind reminding him that Vulcans were touch telepaths and only allowing him to feel shame for half a microsecond before it went out the airlock just like he had.
They had come a long way since that day. Nights spent playing chess in the rec room before Jim suggested playing in his quarters one night. There, he apologized to Spock as his knight captured one of Spock’s bishops. Spock responded with the logic of his actions that he had been compromised and had done what was best for the crew and the ship at the time. The loss of his planet; his people; his mother in sickbay as McCoy tended to her broken leg with his father at her bedside. It had been too much; and he had been unable to process it all at the time.
Their friendship only grew from there. Meals taken together, reports worked on in tandem in Jim’s ready room. And, the most recent of them, dragging Spock on an impromptu shore leave to a planet they had been studying. One that their initial scans had shown was devoid of human life. A breathable atmosphere comprised of 32% oxygen and 47% nitrogen with various other gasses composing the remaining atmosphere.
They originally were supposed to spend two weeks ship time observing the planet, collecting samples, and performing experiments. A roster had been drafted and the crew allowed to select a span of three days on shore leave by the planet's shoreline. Pink sands composing the beaches of orange hued seas due to the chemical byproduct of the algae’s photosynthesis process.
The planet, which they had designated as Amrak VI, was truly a marvel of natural beauty and scientific curiosity. The pink sands of its beaches were not only a product of the unique algae, but also of the crushed shells of small, bioluminescent crustaceans that thrived in the shallow waters. At night, the beaches would glow softly, a phenomenon that had initially puzzled the Enterprise's science team until further analysis revealed the source.
Beyond the beaches, the landscape was a tapestry of vibrant flora, much of it unlike anything found on Earth. The forests were dense with trees that bore leaves of deep purples and blues, their trunks twisted in spirals reaching towards the sky. These trees emitted a gentle, soothing hum that, upon investigation, was discovered to be a form of communication between them.
The inland bodies of water were equally fascinating. The lakes were filled with clear, viridian water that was high in proteins and rare amino acids with the ability to aid in the advanced repair of organic tissue. Teams were sent to collect samples, hypothesizing its potential for medical applications back on Earth.
The fauna of Amrak VI was diverse, ranging from small, insect-like creatures that skittered across the sands, to large, docile herbivores that roamed the plains in herds. These creatures had developed unique adaptations to survive in the planet's environment. Some had chameleon-like abilities to blend into their surroundings, while others had evolved symbiotic relationships with the plant life, protecting them from natural predators in exchange for nourishment.
The atmosphere, while breathable, had a higher oxygen content than Earth's, which gave a feeling of mild euphoria and increased physical endurance to the human visitors. However, the crew was advised to limit their exposure to prevent hyperoxia.
It was with the first found of crew members on leave that they had been ambushed. The shore leave crew had set up a campsite near some caves. Jim had joked that the geologist who chose the location (and the fact that Spock signed off on it) was just trying to sneak in extra work time. The joke was short-lived when that 2nd night their camp had been invaded. As it turned out there was a populace inhabited on the planet, living deep within the cave systems. They came armed with weapons in the form of spears and bow and arrows, ambushing them in the early rays of light from the red giant the planet orbited around.
Spock had been able to send an emergency SOS and half the shore leave crew was able to be beamed to safety. The rest of them had been taken deep into the belly of the cave system. Spock and Jim separated from the crew as the natives were at least able to discern that they were the ones in charge. Their translators were half broken and after a few days only a few words had been able to be translated from the natives. Words thrown around that had been labeled as “abovers” and “star warriors” had been made known as well “Sun traitors” and “spider descendants” but Jim wasn’t too sure about the accurate translation of those.
And then had come the torture, the loud increasing volume of their vocals as their questions only grew more and the agitation increased until one finally snapped and struck Jim across the face. Spock growling and lunging toward them, held back by the ropes that bound his hands and legs behind him.
The aliens diverging their attention to Spock, their eyes flashing with color as their head tilted inward, gaze fixated on him. One alien shouted, the words mashed and hard, “Ragah!” And as Jim turned his head in curiosity he was struck once more.
“Ashaya!” Spock shouted, eyes wild and unfocused as his blood boiled in his veins. He could feel what little control he still maintains slipping away. It had been over 37 hours since his last meditation, and right now he wished for nothing more than to break free of his bonds and show the aliens what kind of star warrior his people could be. The translator was quiet and Spock, for only a moment, felt relief.
The aliens barked, their heads turning to look at each other as they chortled, a sound deep and almost harmonious, one of them spoke, “Asahaya!” As the others increased in volume.
Jims mind was muddled, his stomach hollow as he struggled to remain conscious while the natives continued to visit. The days bleed together until not even Spock was certain of how much time had passed. Little had been provided to them; privacy, food, and water coming at uncertain intervals as Spock did his best to convince Jim to consume what they were given.
It had been what looked almost like an onion that caused his first allergic reaction. The juice from the sliced item had stained his hand a deep shade of green that Jim’s initial thought was that it was Spock’s blood. Had it not been for the way it burned and prickled his skin with a fiery intensity. Jim had never been one to shy away from new experiences, but the burning sensation creeping up his arm was unlike anything he had felt before. His skin began to blister and turn an angry shade of red, the pain intensifying with each passing moment.
Spock could only watch in silent agony as Jim's condition deteriorated rapidly in such a short time. The aliens seemed to find the whole situation amusing, their guttural laughter reverberating off the cave walls. As Jim struggled to breathe through the searing pain, Spock's mind raced with possible solutions. He knew that time was of the essence; if they didn't find a way to neutralize the allergic reaction soon, Jim's life would be in grave danger.
Spock had been untied while their meal was present, and without thinking, finally reached over and grabbed Jim’s hand in his. “Spock,” Jim began, “What are-?” his words cut short as Spock raised their joined hands and brought them to his mouth. His tongue sliding out, wiping along the messy, sticky, green stained flesh. Jim’s heart stopped and lodged in his throat as the rough sandpaper-like texture of Spock’s tongue scraped gently against him. The burning ebbed as Spock’s fingers pressed into the pulse point of his wrist, electricity crackling and buzzing between them. “Spock.” Jim spoke again, his voice low.
Spock's eyes were intense as he continued to focus on Jim's hand, his touch gentle yet deliberate. A surge of warmth spread from Spock's fingertips into Jim's skin, the burning sensation gradually subsiding as if a cooling salve had been placed over kg. The blisters began to fade, the redness diminishing until Jim's hand returned to its normal color as his skin stayed cracked and raw. He would take that improvement over the earlier observations. As Spock withdrew his tongue, Jim could still feel a residual tingling where their skin had made contact.
"Spock, what did you do?" Jim finally asked, his voice hoarse and throat dry; he knew that when they were shipside once more he was going to have a very hard time not remembering this.
Spock met Jim's gaze, a rare hint of emotion flickering in his eyes before it was concealed once more behind his usual calm exterior. "I initiated a surface meld,” Spock explained. "I sought out the source of your allergic reaction and neutralized it while removing the stimuli from your person.” Spock frowned, his eyebrows descending slightly as they furrowed closer together, “Forgive me for not seeking out your consent prior to my actions.” he continued, “Time was of the utmost importance and I did not wish to see you in further distress.”
Jim could not help the small smile that spread across his lips, his unaffected hand reaching out and softly clasping Spock on the shoulder, “Thank you, Spock.” Jim replied, the two lost in a moment of silence that seemed to stretch into infinity and then, “You never need to ask.” Jim added softly.
They would continue to be observed closely, the group of aliens entering every few hours, chittering away as the UT struggled to interpret the meanings.
Four days would pass before they would be rescued. Various members of the crew starved and bruised; but compared to Spock and Jim, were otherwise unharmed. Jim would be in a biobed, Spock next to him, reading a report that Nyota sent over detailing that the Coastal Amrakians were more peaceful when it came to the crew as culturally they held leaders in a higher stance and were to be punished for a group's actions. Such a belief had been hypothesized to have stemmed from religious historical origins in which the Amrakians had risen up against more powerful figures and sought to no longer be under anyone’s control. Further evidenced by contact from another planet in Amrak’s system known as Sagit.
The Sagittians had admitted to attempting to colonize the planet centuries ago only to be met with the same welcoming party the crew had been subjected to.
Jim had only read half way into the report before setting it off to the side and letting his eyes close as he felt the beginning tensions of a headache forming in his temporal lobe.
That had been two weeks ago, with research concluded and the ship holding steady at warp 4 as they headed away from the system. Jim had laid out an open course, allowing Sulu to take the reins and steer the ship “Any direction away from here.”
Two days later the ship had dropped from warp, orders from the admirals to divert to a planet a few systems over for some “well needed R and R.” As Archer had put it.
Which is where Jim had found himself that night. Sleeping in a bed far more comfortable than anything he had slept on before, Orion silk blankets over him as he tossed and turned while foreign city noises hummed lowly through the window as rain began to fall. The knowledge that Spock was on the other side of the wall was a small comfort when his thoughts had begun to spiral.
Spock. Just the subconscious thought of him was enough to turn his dreams into other things. While normally he awoke with sticky shorts and a sense of shame as to what his psyche had concocted that night. In the beginning it was Spock’s hands wrapped around his throat, the phantom feeling of dyspnea as he begged Spock for more, more of whatever his mind wanted in that moment. Only to awaken on the edge of forever with his cock aching and gasping for air. It hadn’t taken much, his hand slipping around himself as the other pressed against his throat, fingers contorting to the position of Spock’s hand, ghosting over bruises long since healed but left marks deeper than skin; an invisible tattoo that only he had been privy to the knowledge of. And he would come, limbs sore and his release hot against him as he couldn’t help but look towards the bathroom door, as if he could look through it and see Spock.
And they had been together in that cell and had felt Spock’s mouth on him, his tongue laving over his skin and his mind slowly bleeding into his. Wondering if this was all just an hallucination, a side effect of the allergic reaction he was having. And then it ceased, and he wanted to grab the onion and rub it all over himself just to feel Spock on his skin once more.
And then there was the Vulcan that Spock had spoken. The words rang in his ears and reverberated in his mind ever since it had left Spock’s lips. ‘Ashaya’ Spock had said, his tone filled with worry and a bite to the foreign word as he lunged at the natives; straining against the bonds that held him as Jim’s eyes struggled to lock onto Spock; the image blurry and doubled and out of focus.
When they had left them, Spock continued to murmur in Vulcan, his words slurred as his eyes beseeched his form, cataloging the array of injuries and filed away into his mind. When this ordeal was over Spock would be content to lock them away forever in the deep recesses of his mind, but for now, they stayed close. No doubt they would be a prime introductory report to Doctor McCoy upon their return to formulate a course of action on how best to treat the Captain
They were safe now, though, a fact that Jim found himself repeating to himself frequently as the end of their shift came closer, and only continued more once Jim was alone in his quarters, ears strained for the tiniest sound from the other side of the wall and felt at ease when the familiar strings of the lyre began to sing. How they stopped and Jim held his breath until the swoosh of their bathroom door opening on Spock’s side and the sounds that signaled Spock’s nightly routine. It was enough.
But then came the dreams. Terrifying and twisting and tremendous. How they would begin pleasant, and then with a sudden blink he found himself back in that damned cell deep beneath the surface of the planet. His stomach empty and body broken. How it had slipped back into a past life that Jim would much rather forget. His body was no stranger to torture, to hunger. He could handle himself, but every glance from Spock seemed to set his very soul on fire.
This dream was just like all the others. Peaceful; serene. Spock laid down bare on his back. The thick, coarse hair that adorned his chest forever pinned into place ever since the first time Jim had accidentally walked into the bathroom only to find Spock with a towel around his waist and standing in front of the sink, hands greased and tinted a light lavender as he applied product to his hair, the ends of it curled from the recent shower and the ever growing realization that there was a blush on Jim’s face as he quickly diverted his gaze, apologizing over and over to Spock. And Spock was unashamed, stating that there was no need for apologies.
So there Spock was, back arched on Jim’s bed as his face lay nestled between green thighs, Spock’s hand tangled in the strands of his hair as tugged. ‘Spock.’ Jim would say, with all the breath of a man in worship, the altar of Spock’s hips before him as his lips lay scripture and devotion to the pleasant fountains that lied between his spread legs. ‘Fuck, Spock.’ louder this time as Spock pulled on his hair. His cock hard against him as he pressed it into Spock’s leg for any form of friction he could have as Jim continued to fuck Spock with his mouth with long, deep strokes. Slick landing on the curve of his neck and gliding down to dampen his collarbone. ‘God. Fuck, Spock...’
And then, Spock, breathy and moaning, spoke, 'Ashaya!' and the scene changed abruptly. They were back in that damned cave, Jim on the floor as his gaze found Spock, still bound and brown eyes wild. "Ruk-tor." he snarled, the aliens chortling between themselves as the leader of them stepped forward; striking Jim once more. More Vulcan spilling from Spock's mouth . And then, "Jim.".
Spock's voice was so close, so crystal clear in the muddled vision and the ringing in Jim's ears. 'Spock.' His voice cracked as he reached forward, desperate to touch him, to feel his skin beneath him just to prove to him that Spock was there, that he wasn't alone.
"Jim." his name again, and Stars, did Jim ever acknowledge to himself how much he loves it when Spock calls him by his name. In the privacy of personal quarters over a game of chess. How he desperately wishes to hear it all the time and how it haunts him in his dreams.
"Jim." The deep baritone of his voice is so soothing, and he can't help but let his eyes rest half lidded, gazing upon the full eclipse that was Spock surrounded by a halo of bright light. "Jim, awaken." Spock said once more, confusion filling Jim's face as he tilted his head. Then, ever so softly, Spock continued, "Please."
Jim gasped awake, eyes blinking rapidly as he lurched up, almost hitting Spock with the force of his head had he not stepped back in time. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, one hand coming up to place against it, the force of it so strong that Jim feared it would burst through his chest.
"My apologies, Jim." Spock said softly, Jim caught his gaze from the corner of his eye as he nodded his head, his free hand rising from the bed and waving off the concern. "I heard you call for me while you slept." he explained, his tongue poking out for a second to run along his lips before it retreated back, his eyes slowly roaming down Jim's nude chest and desperately attempting to control the excess blood flow that had crept up his neck and flushed into his cheeks. "It was imbued with distress and I feared something was wrong."
Fear; a human emotion that Jim was all too familiar with, and for a Vulcan, for Spock, to admit that out loud, well, Jim didn't want to dwell on it for too long. "Yeah," Jim confirmed, finally looking properly at Spock since he had awoken. He was dressed in his meditation robes, the material somehow both loose and conforming to every curve and plane of his body. He brought his knees up, motioning with his head for Spock to sit as he wrapped his arms around them, “Yeah, it was another nightmare.” he concluded, eyes traveling to the bottle of red pills that McCoy had given him that were on the nightstand. They did the job of knocking him out, but did little in providing disincentives to a dreamless sleep; however pleasant the beginnings had been.
There was a stretch of silence as Spock sat, back straight as he glanced out the window. Then finally, “I must mention that you were not easy to rouse.” Spock began, words chosen carefully as his gaze flicked to Jim out of the corner of his eye before retreating to their original position. “I had to breach your mind’s surface in order to accomplish the task.”
“Oh, Spock I’m not-” Jim began, wanting to lean forward and place his hand on Spock’s arm.
“I wish for you to know that I did not take your words spoken in the caves as a form of blanket consent to enter your mind when I wished.” Spock explained as he took a steadying breath in and held for a moment before exhaling once more.
“Spock,” Jim tried again, “I’m not mad.” he said. “Thank you, I wouldn’t know how long I would be there if you hadn’t pulled me out.” Jim continued, he wanted to be truthful, to tell Spock how he had saved him from God knows how long. So instead, he opted for another, “Thank you.”
Spock glanced over at him, gaze soft, and spoke, “You are welcome, Jim.” he replied. They both sat there in silence for some time, the two of them turning their attention to the window and watching as the rain continued to fall. Jim remembered vaguely reading about how the rain here was composed of certain elements that made it a glittering gold color and how said composition acted as an intoxication to the Ferengi, like how chocolate cake was to Vulcans. He wonders what else there is about Vulcans, and so Jim turns his head, intent on not looking at Spock as he asks his question.
“Spock,” he begins, can feel the way tears threaten to prick in the corner of his eyes.
“Yes, Jim?” he asks, his voice honey smooth and Jim wants nothing more than to feel those words against every inch of his skin. But he has his own mission at the moment. So he continues.
“What does Ashaya mean?” he asks, instead opting to gaze upon Spock’s shadow. He sees Spock raise his hand, how his body stiffens and Jim wants to hate himself at that moment.
Spock had feared that Jim would ask this question; feared that when he told him, he would never be able to gaze upon the ethereal blue of his eyes or look upon the wicked twist of his grin when he was about to be checked in chess. He would do anything to keep some form of Jim in his life. So much so; that in this moment; he would lie to him.
But he speaks the truth, and his hand falters, shaking in the air where it's so close to Jim’s skin that he can almost feel the radiant heat that emanates from his arm. “Beloved.” Spock says, his voice breaking on the last syllable. Jim’s head turns to look at him, eyes wide and lips slowly parted, and illogically, Spock wishes he could kiss them. There had been many instances throughout the time they spent together that Spock wished to know what it felt like to press his lips against his captains. But he dug his grave deeper, “Ashaya means beloved; darling, dearest.”
Jim moves, flinches as he takes Spock in entirely, searching his face for any kind of tell that he is lying to him. His heart beats faster in his chest and with Spock this close, he wonders if the other man can hear it. How it beats for him. “Tell me again.” He asks, hopeful.
“Ashaya-” Spock repeats, worried for the moment that he won’t be able to voice the word again. He doesn’t get further than the first word before Jim rushes him. His lips making contact with his own and he’s blindsided by the explosion the act causes; like watching a supernova be born before him. Brilliant shades of blues and golds; the way his mind desperately wishes to reach forward, to intertwine their minds and their hands and become one. Spock forgets how to breathe, so wrapped up in observing and categorizing everything he feels in this moment so as to visit it again whenever he wishes.
And just as suddenly as it began, it ended. The colors cut out without warning leaving Spock chilled and aching for more. Jim pulled away, his blue eyes wide as he struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.” He said, hand rising to his mouth, his fingers pressing into the swollen flesh as if he could relive the moment once more. “I don’t know what came over me.” He continued, his voice barely audible. “I don’t. I mean. I love-“
He stopped, Spock gently taking his wrist and pulling them away from his mouth, instead bringing them towards his and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I cherish thee, Jim.” He spoke, letting the pads of his fingers rest against his lips as he spoke.
Jim’s hand moved, cupping Spock’s cheek as he leaned into the touch, “Spock.” He gasped, watching as Spock closed his eyes and turned his face into his hand, lips parting as he kissed the palm of his hand.
Spock turned back towards him, eyes half lidded as he spoke, “May I kiss you?” He asked and Jim could only nod his head before Spock was leaning into him, pressing his lips against Jim’s for the second time that night. Jim moaned into it, his free hand tangling into Spock’s hair as he pulled him closer as Spock gently pushed him down onto the mattress.
Jim was already hard, desperate to twitch and thrash against anything he could, his hips rolling up with reckless abandon as Spock pressed into him. His own lok sliding from his sheath, his cunt already dripping to provide lubrication for the promised activities.
Spock’s lips traveled away from Jim’s, kissing down his jaw and to his neck, his nose buried into the pulse point and inhaling as he pressed his tongue against it, allocating a moan from the other man. “Tell me what you need.” Spock requested, his voice even as he pressed open mouthed kisses to the juncture of Jim’s neck and shoulder.
“You.” Jim answered with a gasp, eyes wide and hands beseeching for more of Spock to hold against him. “I need you, Spock.” He begged, “Please.”
“As you wish, Jim.” Spock replied, hands retreating and searching out the clasps that held his meditation robes together. Jim’s hands on his shoulder as he helped to push them down the length of his shoulders, chest and arms exposed as Jim angled his head to wrap his lips around a green flushed nipple. Spock gasped above him, his chest swelling as he brought Jim’s face impossibly closer.
Their breathing labored as Spock struggled to undo the clasp at his hip with only one hand, desperate to free his lok from its confines. Jim laughed below him, the sound melodious and addicting to the point that Spock wished to hear it every day for the rest of his life. “James.” He gasped, releasing Jim’s head as he swiftly undid the last portion of his fastenings, the garment falling away into a puddle of dark blue Vulcan cotton on the sheets, leaving him entirely exposed to the man before him.
Jim moved away, eyes roaming as he grew harder, Spock was exquisite, dark chest hair curled from sweat, green flushed skin and hard lines. “You’re beautiful.” Jim spoke, aware of just how breathless he sounded in that moment. Spock’s face flushed deeper, and Jim smiled wildly as he pressed their lips together once more. His hands reached for his own boxers that he wore to bed; thankful for having so little clothes on so as to make quick work of undressing himself.
Spock’s hands joined him, his first two fingers pressed against his wrists in a Vulcan kiss before pushing them away and pulling the black waistband down along his thighs, his cock finally springing free and flopping against his stomach. “Spock.” Jim voiced, gasping as the other man leaned down, his tongue making contact with the base of Jim’s cock before sliding towards the head, lips wrapping around the tip as he swallowed down around Jim in one fluid motion.
“Fuck, Spock.” Jim moaned, the rough tongue encircling his length and somehow setting him whole body on fire. “So good.” If this was a dream; Jim never wanted to wake up ever again.
He slipped out of Spock’s mouth with a wet, sinful pop, and Jim wanted to mourn the loss, to cry and beg and plead for Spock to do it again. He crawled up the length of Jim’a body, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. “This is not a dream, My Jim.” He stated, leaning down and pressing their lips together again for only a moment before he pulled away. “How can I prove to you otherwise?” He asked.
“You’re already doing it.” Jim answered back, legs spreading wider and wrapping around Spock’s waist, their lengths sliding against each other and causing both men to moan. “I need you.” Jim begged,
“You have me, Jim.” Spock promised, leaning down and pressing their lips together once more before leaving him just as quickly. “Tell me what you want, Jim.” He requested.
“I want you inside of me Spock.” Jim confessed, heart pounding loudly in his ears that it threatened to drown out any other sound in the room. Spock nodded his head, his hand sliding between his legs, fingers gathering the natural slick that had begun to leak from his cunt.
Jim bit at his lip when Spock slipped two fingers inside of himself, slowly fucking himself on them. Slick gathered in his hand as he slowly approached Jim’s entrance, the younger man nodding his head furiously in consent before Spock slowly inserted one finger inside of him. Jim was so warm, thousands of points of pleasure sparking against their skin as Spock took a steadying breath in. Jim beneath him, eyes rolled back as he moaned, was the only tell Spock had that Jim was feeling just as good as Jim was in that moment.
“More.” Jim begged, and no sooner had Jim voiced that request did another finger slip next to its kin, pistoning with gentle thrusts as Spock angled his fingers inside of him, hitting his prostate. Jim cried out, hands fisting into anything he could find as he came in thick white ropes along his stomach; his breath labored and body limp. “Fuck, Spock.” Jim whimpered watching with glazed eyes as Spock leaned down, his tongue poking out as he licked along each streak of cum, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Spock continued to finger him.
“Spock, please.” Jim pleaded, “I need you.”
“You have me, Jim.” Spock replied, eyebrow raising as Jim shook his head.
“What was that word again?” He asked, “Ashaya?” He elaborated.
Spock nodded his head, “Ashaya” he repeated, watching as a grin spread across Jim’s face. “My beloved.” Spock slowly removed his fingers, watching with new hunger as Jim moaned, hips moving so as to follow them. “You have me, Ashaya.” He repeated, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the hollow of Jim’s throat, following his clavicle up his neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as Jim shuddered beneath him.
“I believe you are adequately prepared for my penis to penetrate you:” Spock whispered into his ear as Jim laughed, his hands wrapping around Spock’s shoulders. A hand threading through the hair at the nape of his neck as he gently pulled down, their gazes meeting as Jim leaned down to press a kiss to Spock’s lips.
“I believe I am.” He replied, another bout of laughter escaping his lips and the curve of his smile forever imprinted upon Spock’s features.
Spock took himself in hand, cock still slick from the natural lubrication as he positioned himself at Jim’s entrance. “Please, Spock.” Jim begged, hips twitching and teasing as Spock entered him only to be drawn back out a second later. “Please.”
“I have you, Ashaya.” Spock promised, strong hands finding purchase along Jim’s hips and holding him steady as he slowly pushed in, reveling in the loud moans that Jim voiced as he sunk down.
“Stars, Spock, fuck!” Jim exclaimed, his hole stretching as Spock filled him, his breathing labored as he struggled to not die on the spot. But damn, would that be a way to go.
“It seems I was mistaken.” Spock said, hand reaching to find Jim’s and press a Vulcan kiss to his wrist. Jim raised an eyebrow and Spock continued, “You are still very tight, Ashaya.”
“It’s good,” Jim whispered, voice hoarse and breathless, “It feels good, Spock.” He continued, Spock was only halfway inside of him and yet it still felt as if he would split in two from the mere size of Spock alone. His cock much longer and thicker than Jim had thought it might be, and didn’t that just make him want to thank every deity he could think of.
Spock let out a short puff of air from his nose, “I doubt any deity, of either Vulcan or Terran in origin, had anything to do with the size of my genitals.” He responded, sinking deeper inside of Jim.
“Reading my thoughts, Mister?” Jim asked with a breathy laugh, “I don’t think that’s fair.” He teased gently.
“Forgive me, Ashaya.” Spock said, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Jim’s, “Your thoughts are quite loud with this much skin to skin contact. Your mind calls to mine and I fear I am not strong enough to ignore the siren call.”
Jim pressed his head up, finding Spock’s lips almost effortless as he met them in a kiss. Gentle at first, before Jim’s tongue entered his, pulling him deeper and deeper; far away from the shallow waters and threatening to drown him. Jim pulled away, his lips still so close and a thread of saliva still connecting them. “Meld with me, Spock?” He asked quietly, almost afraid to voice it any louder and break whatever tranquil spell had been placed around them.
“Melds are very intimate, Ashaya.” Spock responded, “I do not wish to…” he paused, trailing off as he struggled to find the right word, “…overwhelm you.” He settled for.
“Spock, you’re not going to overwhelm me. I want this, I want you.” Jim said, his hands on Spock’s cheeks, thumb brushing against the flesh as he whispered, “I love you.” The words hung in the air between them for only a moment before Jim’s eyes grew wide, a hand dropping from Spock’s face to cover his mouth.
“I didn’t mean to say that.” Jim said, “Not that I don’t love you, because I do. God, I love you so much, Spock. But I meant it in a way that I didn’t want to overwhelm you! And fuck, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot and -“ Jim didn’t get a chance to continue, Spock gently removing his hand and claiming his lips once more as he bottomed out inside of Jim. The younger man moaned into the kiss as his legs wrapped around Spock’s hips, pulling him impossibly closer to him.
When Spock pulled away, he whispered against Jim’s lips, “I love you too, Ashaya.” He confessed, “I believe I have for quite a while. Thoughts of you have consumed my mind since the first time I saw you. I did not understand why, how the mere sight of you seemed to invoke a strange sense within me. My heart rate fluctuated, my pulse increased, my mind constantly pulled away from current work to thoughts of your person.” He said, taking Jim’s hand and bringing it down his chest to his side, pressing his hand against the racing heart that lies below the skin. Jim could feel it, feel the way it raced against him; and only seemed to increase with every second he touched it.
Spock released his hand, raising it back up to press against Jim’s face, fingers splaying out and touching his psy points and pressing another kiss to Jim’s lips. “If you are certain.” He continued.
Jim nodded his head, “Yes.” He whispered, and that was all Spock needed before he connected their minds in a brilliant flash of gold. The world around them dissolved. No longer were they two individuals, but a singular entity awash in a torrent of images and emotions. Jim gasped below him, the noise echoing in their minds as Jim pleaded for Spock to move.
And so he did, bringing his hips back, his cock sliding out of Jim’s hole before pistoning back in slowly, Jim’s mind set ablaze with lust and rolling off his person in torrential waves. And Spock did not care if they washed over him and drowned within them. He would be content with that.
In the mindscape, Jim laughed and Spock could feel the vibrations of the sound through every neuron and every centimeter of skin. It was a joy so pure it bordered on pain, a sense of belonging that transcended the physical. Spock poured his own emotions into the link, a well of affection and lust and revelry he'd never dared voice aloud for fear of losing Jim’s presence in his life. Jim's response was instant, a flood of love and acceptance that enveloped Spock like a cocoon. That he loved him; and was loved in return. The warmth that enveloped them like the witness of a thousand sunrises all at once.
Their thoughts continued to swirl together, a maelstrom of desire and trust and love and longing. Spock could feel the phantom sensations of his own touch, as if he were both the giver and receiver. It was disorienting, exhilarating, a level of intimacy he'd never known was possible. Every stroke of his cock was amplified, every moan from Jim a direct caress to his mind. He was drowning in Jim, and Jim in him, their boundaries blurred beyond recognition.
In their mind, Jim laughed again, thoughts bubbling and dissipating just as quickly as they had been formed. How long had he wished for this? For this very moment to be far more tangible than his own mind grasping at the fraying edges of dirty dreams. And all this time, Spock loved him, loved him so deeply that Jim felt it in every corner of his being. And Spock smiled, and he laughed too.
Then the laughter turned to moans, the moans to desperate pleas as Spock's pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent. Jim's mind was a cacophony of need, his body tightening around Spock's cock. Spock could feel his own climax building, a pressure growing at the base of his spine that threatened to explode and spill over. ‘Don’t stop.’ Jim begged him in the depths of their meld. ‘Need you. Please’ he continued as Spock angled his hips in a different direction, his cock brushing against his prostate as Jim let out another desperate moan. ‘Fill me.’ Jim pleaded, ‘Want you to come in me.’ And who was Spock to deny his ashyam, his beloved, anything he wished?
Spock reached for Jim's hand, their fingers intertwining as he drove into Jim one final time. Jim's scream of release was a silent one, a shockwave that tore through their mental bond. Spock followed him over the edge, their minds shattering together in a blaze of ecstasy as Spock’s lips sought Jim’s and held him tight as he continued to fill him.
Jim was unsure how long they laid there like that, chests heaving and hearts slowly decrescendoing from the high of it all. He could feel Spock grow soft inside of him, could feel the way he began to slip from him, and Jim wished nothing more than to keep him anchored there forever.
“Ashaya.” Spock spoke softly, Jim’s gaze meeting his with a soft smile as he bent down, pressing a kiss to his lips once more.
Jim smiled, “Say it again?” He asked, whispering against swollen lips.
“Ashaya.” Spock replied.