Archive of Our Own

Prologue

During the night, Lieutenant Sanders had died—the crash had fractured his skull, and he died without regaining consciousness. So, now they decided to walk to the hills Spock had spotted before the crash. Nothing was to be gained by waiting here; the shuttle was damaged beyond repair, and they hoped to find drinkable water there. What little they had left, wouldn’t last long.

“We’re damn lucky. And that says a lot about your flying, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said lightly to his first officer. Looking at the impassive Vulcan face, he refrained from any further levity. Sanders is dead; what am I doing joking? Yet, he felt a wave of relief that he wasn’t buring Spock, along with his security officer.

The last thing Kirk remembered was Spock at the helm—tracking the storm’s unpredictable movements—when the ion storm changed direction, and the first turbulent waves hit, and then, nothing. When he regained consciousness, they were… here. Looking around, Kirk wondered where exactly ‘here’ was. In the vast expanse around them, there was no sign of life. Nothing moved, nothing stirred. The storm had carried them a long way; even Spock with his encyclopedic knowledge of the galaxy, couldn’t place their location. The shuttle’s systems were fried—the storm had seen to that. They  had been transmitting emergency signals, but Kirk doubted anything penetrated the static generated by the ion storm. They were likely stranded in an uncharted sector of the galaxy, making a quick rescue uncertain.

“Captain,” Spock stated. “We should begin now, before the temperature rises further.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Spock.” The silence was heavy as they dug into the shifting sand, using jagged pieces of the wrecked shuttle as makeshift shovels. “I think it’s deep enough,” he said, pausing to wipe trickles of sweat from his forehead.

Together they lifted and placed Sanders into his sandy grave, then began filling it in. They stood in silence for a moment, and Kirk murmured a few parting words for their fallen officer. He looked up at the planet’s sun; the temperature was rising, and they started back to the shuttle, seeking the shade it offered, if not comfort, from the increasing heat.

Kirk sat in one of the shuttle’s seats, eyes closed, trying to block out the memories of the crash and the loss of Sanders. Spock, meanwhile, was methodically checking the shuttle's supplies, his movements precise and efficient even in the stifling heat. Kirk knew he should be helping, but the heat and the emotional toll of the morning had left him drained. He shifted restlessly in his seat, and without opening his eyes, he knew he had drawn Spock’s attention.

“I’ll help you with all that later, Spock, just give me a moment.”

“I thought you were asleep, Captain,” Spock said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “There is not much to be done right now, and you will need to rest. We will be walking most of the night.”

The Vulcan’s words were subdued, subtle concern woven into his typically formal demeanor. Kirk sighed faintly and opened his eyes. “Don’t you think you should follow your own advice, First Officer?” he said, his tone and gaze effectively silencing any contradictory comments the Vulcan might have made.

He watched with barely hidden amusement as Spock sat across the aisle and settled into a seat. Kirk only had to wait a couple of minutes before Spock folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. With a small smile, Kirk closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

As soon as Spock heard the human’s relaxed breathing, he opened his eyes, but didn’t change his position. Spock’s thoughts drifted back to the harrowing events of the previous day…

They were caught in the ion storm. Jim was unconscious, and he had been unable to ascertain the full extent of the Captain’s injuries. Unwisely, Lt. Sanders released his safety harness and tried to reach the Captain, with disastrous results. Alone, he had had to ensure their survival, concentrating on regaining control of their suttle. Yet all his efforts at that point had been ineffective. They had been carried along by the storm’s force, instruments useless, power draining rapidly. Condition: critical.

Then the cabin had been filled with smoke, from the shuttle’s short-circuited wiring, further hampering their survival. His eyes had stung, but for a second, he thought he had distinguished the outline of a planet amidst the static. When he had spotted it again, he had tried to steer the craft towards it; the ion storm impeding the shuttle’s response and progress, taxing even his Vulcan strength and his patience.

Nearing the planet’s gravitational pull had made it possible to combat the storm but entry into the planet’s atmosphere had been a laborious ordeal. The shields had been weakened, the shuttle overheating, the strain on the engine excessive. At that moment, he had thought ‘their luck’—as Jim had said many times before—had finally ended. Jim! He had not been able to check on him, his fingers flying over the control panel, trying to counteract the shuttle’s rapid descent, but a crash had been imminent, the planet’s terrain now clearly visible. They glided over the desert terrain for an eternity, and the ground looming closer with each passing minute. 

He had braced himself. Then, the underside of the craft hit one of the taller dunes with a bone-jarring thud, the impact throwing the shuttle into a violent swerve and spin, almost turning it over, before embedding itself in the sand. The force of the impact had  knocked the air from his lungs for a moment, and the acrid smell of burning circuitry had filled his nostrils. He still had been seated in the pilot’s seat, when a moan of pain had brought him out of his trance-like state. They had survived. 

He had heard the moaning again. Jim! Shaking his head, he stood and searched for the medi-kit, relieved when he had found it intact—it was one of the few things that had stayed intact—he reached the human, apprehension increasing as he uncovered the Captain from underneath dislodged equipment and supplies. Seeing Jim alive, had sent a wave of relief through him. He remembered his hands had trembled, and a sigh of relief had escaped his lips as the scanner showed no serious injuries, only a slight concussion and multiple contusions, nothing that should prove intolerable.

The Captain shifted in his seat, a low groan escaping his lips. Spock’s eyes focused on the human, concern momentarily eclipsing his stoicism, ensuring Jim had not awakened, he returned to his thoughts.

He remembered the fear that had gripped him when he first saw Jim lying unconscious amidst the wreckage. He had acted quickly, administering a stimulant and when the Captain had regained full consciousness, Kirk had focused on him and tried to sit up. “Lie still, Captain. You have sustained a concussion,” he had said, holding Jim down.

“Spock, what—what the hell happened? Ohh, my head!” Kirk's eyes had closed, but quickly became alert again, looking around him in surprise. “Are you alright? Where is Sanders… Here, give me a hand up.”

“I will answer all your questions in a moment, Captain. I do not think it is wise for you to move as yet. You have been injured and unconscious…”

“Spock!” Kirk’s voice had been sharp with urgency, cutting through his explanation.

Suppressing a sigh, he had not argued the matter further. He had helped Jim stand up and supported him for a few seconds as he swayed unsteadily, then removed his arm when the Captain had recovered his equilibrium, and together they found Sanders. He had been … alive at that point. He ran the scanner over the Lieutenant’s body and read the results that had appeared on the screen.

“How is he?” Kirk had asked quietly.

“His skull is fractured and he’s hemorrhaging internally. Respiration is shallow, blood pressure dropping rapidly. I gave him a stimulant, but what he needs is surgery. I can do nothing further for him.” He had stated the facts for his Captain.

“I see,” Kirk had said, and a shadow had reflected in his eyes. “So, what you’re saying is … it’s a matter of time before—before he dies.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Well, that’s more than I can say for us,” Jim had said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There is no way we’ll get this shuttle off this planet. Even if there was a way to rewire all the burned out circuits, there is nothing we could do to fix that…” There had been amusement in Kirk’s voice, as he pointed to the large crack on the ceiling of the craft. “Damn, I can see the sky!”

“Indeed,” he had replied, impassively. “Evidently the planet’s atmosphere is compatible.” He had monitored the readings from his tricorder. Using the manual control he had opened the shuttle doors, and a wave of dry, searing heat had washed over them. The sand shimmered under the intense glare of the sun, stretching out in undulating dunes, a sea of endless ochre as far as the eye could see. He had followed the Captain as he ascended to the top of one of the nearest dunes.

“Nothing but sand and heat,” Kirk had said, grinning. “Well, it could have been worse. It looks like we're going to have a long vacation, Mr. Spock.”

When they had returned to the shuttle, he had checked on Lt. Sanders' condition again. He had remained unconscious and it had been clear he would not recover.

“Spock!” Kirk’s voice had been a sharp shout. “The water…” A faint gurgling sound had drawn his attention and he had followed it and found Jim at the water tank, where he had seen the steady stream trickling onto the parched sand. The water tank's gauge had shown two-thirds empty and still draining.

“Evidently, we ruptured the tank when we hit the surface,” he had stated the obvious, betraying no hint of panic. He had been already calculating how long the remaining water would last, concerned not for himself, but for Jim. He was familiar with arid environments—Vulcans had evolved to withstand extreme temperatures and limited water resources—whereas Jim was human, from a water-rich planet.

KIrk had already been digging through the scattered supplies. “Here,” he had said, handing him a plastic container. “You empty that one and I'll take this one. We’ll try to salvage whatever water is left.”

By the time they had finished, they had collected only fifteen gallons of water in the two containers. The shuttle was always well supplied for emergencies—like this one. They had not checked all the damage to the shuttle soon enough. Out here, in the desert, with a much faster rate of dehydration, the water they had would last four, possibly five days. That was the estimate for only one human.

“Captain,” he had said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Before we crashed, I spotted a cluster of hills, approximately 22.7 klicks from here. It is possible there is water there. Since I am familiar with this kind of terrain. I could…”

Kirk’s hand had shot up, stopping him mid-sentence. “No!” Kirk had said, his voice firm. “All of us stay together. We can’t carry Sanders, and it would take you…”

“2.6 days,” he had interjected. If he traveled alone. If the Captain accompanied him, given his human limitations to withstand the heat and the necessity of rest and water consumption, the journey would be 4.62 days and their water supply would not be enough.

Kirk’s gaze had hardened as he looked at Spock. It was if the human had been able to follow his thought pattern, grasping the unspoken implications of his calculations. Then Jim had turned towards the endless dunes. “Yes, thank you. Three days to get there … and you will need at least one container of water for the journey. If there is no water there, or it’s not drinkable, how will you come back?” Kirk’s gaze had remained on the horizon. “There are more … reasons… You are not to attempt it, Mr. Spock. That’s—that’s an order.”

“Understood.” That’s all he had been able to say, without revealing his surprise at the angry tone in Jim’s voice, or arguing with his Captain. Jim’s objections had been logical, but he had also perceived the unspoken, human emotional reasons against his going … alone. He recognized the sentiment, though it was not logical.

“Spock,” Kirk chidded, his voice softening as he looked affectionately at his friend. “You’re supposed to be sleeping—resting.” Spock is thinking, not resting . He suppressed the sigh that rose to his lips. Vulcans! Or at least this one, thinks he’s … indestructible .

Spock was startled out of his reverie by the quiet voice, the only outward sign the raising of his eyebrow. “I am sufficiently rested, Captain.”

“So am I,” Kirk said, a determined glint in his eyes. “Let’s get started then.”

Chapter 1, The Journey

When they were ready to leave, the sun was already half hidden behind the horizon. Kirk stood adjusting the pack on his back. He was carrying the small lightweight tent and one of the smaller water containers and half of the med-kit’s contents. Spock had the rest of the water in his pack along with the remaining med-kit items, medications, blankets, the extra power packs for their phasers, the tricorder, and they each had a communicator.  They left the dehydrated food packs behind. With no water to spare, they’d rely on vitamin shots for a while.

It wasn’t easy to leave the safety of the shuttle, but their water supply would soon be depleted and if by that time the Enterprise hadn’t found them… This trip maybe wouldn’t be for nothing; they may find water if—no, when they reached the hills. They began walking, staying close together, the twilight illuminating the desert. They walked steadily, with occasional stops for water. Heat radiated from the sand, even though the planet’s sun had set.

Darkness came and they were suddenly cold. There was no moon, but the stars shone brightly. They would be stopping soon; the cold of the night would force them to seek the shelter the tent offered, which wouldn’t be much. While it still provided some relief with its heat-resistant material and the cooling system was functioning even at reduced capacity, the heating component of the system was damaged.

Spock was up by dawn. Next to him, Kirk was still sleeping. He was sure the human had not been fully aware when they had stopped walking. As soon as the tent had been set up, he had crawled in and fallen asleep. 

“Captain,” he called out softly. But Kirk, still asleep, whispered something unintelligible, and Spock was forced to shake him. “Jim, wake up. We should leave before…"

Kirk batted his hand away. “Sam, leave me alone. It’s too early … for…” he mumbled sleepily.

Sam? Spock’s eyebrow rose. The Captain must be dreaming . He cleared his throat, and said loudly. “Jim, wake up!”

Kirk sat up quickly, blinking. “What…” he started, looking sleepily at his first officer. “Why are you shouting? Is something wrong?” He saw both of Spock’s eyebrows arch. His eyes widened when the Vulcan appeared flustered.

“No, Captain,” Spock started. “I was trying to wake you, and you…”

Kirk interrupted. “Well, you certainly did!” He ran a hand over his face. “But, did you have to do it so … loudly?”

“I … Captain,” Spock began, recovering his equilibrium. If the confines of the tent had permitted, he would have stood at attention, instead of how he was now, kneeling next to Jim. “I called out twice. First, you said something in your sleep that I did not understand. Then, you thought I was ... Sam. I could not think of another way to awaken you. Was there something else I should have done?” he questioned.

“Er…no,” Kirk answered, mulling over what Spock said. What has Sam got to do with this ? “My brother? I called you, Sam?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Huh. I must have been dreaming,” Kirk said, slightly embarrassed as he thought it over. What was I dreaming of? I haven’t seen Sam since I was … fourteen?  “Sorry, Spock.”

“No apology is necessary, Captain,”  Spock answered, busying himself with folding the blankets.

It was still cool as they started their journey, and they walked in silence. They continued walking as the temperature rose; they had many miles to cover before they reached the hills. Kirk looked around, eyes half-closed against the brightness of the sun. Heat waves shimmered upwards like transparent, flimsy veils. The dunes around them seemed to melt and waver in the heat's haze. Sweat trickled into his eyes as they came to the top of a dune, and he stopped to wipe it away.

“Damn, this place.” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead and placing the piece of cloth on his head. “Blazing hot during the day and freezing cold at night. How you manage to look so unaffected, Mr. Spock … is amazing.” He said, looking at his first officer with a smile. I bet you’re not even sweating.

“I’m more adapted to this climate, Captain,” Spock replied, as he waited for Jim to start walking again. “On Vulcan, the temperature is 10° higher in winter time, and also 10° higher for this planet at midday, but I must admit, I also find the evenings uncomfortable.”

“What do you think our chances are in finding water, drinkable water?” Kirk asked, his usual confident tone slightly muted as he shielded his eyes from the sun, looking out  into the desert.

Spock noted Jim’s slight hesitation. “Since this planet is habitable for humans, the probability is 98.9 percent that we will find water. As to its suitability for human consumption, the odds are…”

“Never mind that part, it’s a moot point, anyway,” he said, smiling at Spock. “With odds like that and luck, Mr. Spock, we’ll make it.”

“Indeed, Captain,” Spock said. “However, we should not remain standing. It would be best if we continued, before stopping at midday, and seek cover until evening.”

“Very well, lead on, Mr. Spock.” I too want to get to the hills as soon as possible, my friend. Then ... we find out one way or another if we live or die on this planet. Kirk straightened his pack and followed Spock slowly.

They didn’t talk again. Lost in their own thoughts, they remained silent. Talking dried out the mouth. In this dreamlike journey, any unnecessary effort seemed foolish. Noon. The crucial hour. It was then the desert revealed itself, in all its cruelty. The sun draws moisture from every pore and the temptation to sleep—to yield—is great. For the first time, Kirk was aware of the immense silence around him and felt … lost.

“...and take shelter.”

Kirk blinked at the Vulcan. “Sorry, Spock, I drifted off. What did you say?”

“I was saying, Captain, we should stop, set up the tent, and take shelter,” Spock repeated, his gaze fixed on Kirk. “Are you alright … Jim?” Worried about Jim’s well being.

“Oh! Yes, I’m fine,” he said, taking his pack off and removing the tent. As Spock bent down to help, his fingers brushed over Kirk’s hand, drawing him from his thoughts. The touch banished his  depression. He forgot the long, lonely hours, the fearful tranquility, the gnawing thirst. Kirk gazed fondly at his friend. “... ‘Loneliness has passed like a shadow that has come and gone. I am not alone.’” He quoted.

Spock’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of … something … crossing his features before he quickly averted his gaze. They finished the rest of their preparations for shelter in silence.

Kirk smiled to himself as he saw the greener tinge at the tips of Spock’s ears. He removed his shirt and wiped the sweat from his neck and chest. He entered the tent just as Spock finished arranging a blanket as a pillow. He sat, looking from the Vulcan to his own hand, a smile lingering on his lips as he still felt the echo of Spock’s touch.

“I’d give anything for a dip in a cool lake right now, and a cold drink. But wishing is not having, is it, Spock?”

“No, Captain,” Spock said, handing Jim the water container. “It is not cold, but it is something.”

Kirk started to drink, pausing mid-sip. If Spock has refiled it from the larger container he carries, this should be full, not half. He looked suspiciously at the Vulcan and extended the container back to him.

“Here,” he said, watching Spock carefully. “You drink first.”

“It is not necessary, Captain. I…” he trailed off, unable to articulate the lie. He had skirted the truth before, but he never outright lied to Jim. Head lowered, he felt his ears burning. “I can last longer,” he whispered.

Kirk barely heard the words. “Meaning … me. Go ahead and drink, Spock,” he said gently.

Spock took the container, his hand trembling slightly as he sipped the water.

“Your … foolishness will get us to the hills,’ Kirk said. “But what we find there, as I see it, is an even chance. And Spock,” he continued in a low voice, “do you have to call me … Captain? There is no one else around, and rank doesn’t mean anything out here.”

Kirk ran his fingers through his hair and catching Spock looking, he flashed a smile. “You know, you’re lucky not to be sweating. Not only is it uncomfortable, but the very thought of putting my shirt back on makes me itch.” He chuckled. He removed his boots and leaned outside the tent to pour out the sand that had gotten in them, then lay down, arms behind his head. “I’m going to try and sleep, I don’t know if I’ll succeed or not, but maybe you should do the same,” he said, closing his eyes.

Spock sat cross-legged, looking at his Captain. Faint tremors ran through his own body, surprised him. I am definitely not cold; in fact, I am extremely comfortable. Perhaps my body had suffered some minor damage I am not aware of. His eyebrow lifted subtly, betraying his inner concern. A light meditative trance should reveal the cause. There will be ample time until we continue our journey. He prepared and started to lower his bodily functions. Maybe I should have informed Jim , before slipping into a meditative state.

The tent was very quiet and hot. As much as Jim tried to relax and sleep, he found it impossible. He tossed and turned, then finally he turned to his side and looked over at the Vulcan. So much for conversation; at least one of us is asleep. Propping himself on his elbow, his eyes passed over Spock’s familiar features, lingering on his long body. He frowned, noticing his friend was hardly breathing. Alarmed, he sat up, leaning closer. He waited for a couple of minutes, counting breaths, then placed his fingers on the Vulcan’s wrist, counting the beats. Where is that fast beat? It's almost as slow as mine. And mine is racing. Damn Vulcan! I hope you showing off hasn’t cost us anything … like your life. He sat, staring at Spock, his brow furrowed with worry.

Spock felt the human’s touch and through it, the fear, anger, and concern. He slowly pulled himself back from his trance. I should have told Jim after all.

Kirk felt the rising heartbeat, Spock’s breathing coming back to normal. “Captain… Jim…” The words were just a whisper, but he heard them and his heart settled.  He slapped Spock once, to fully awaken him and found himself looking straight into Spock’s surprised eyes, while a strong hand closed over his wrist.

“Damn you, Spock,” Kirk ground out. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you go into a trance?” His tense shoulders relaxed, a wave of relief washed over him.

“I apologize for not mentioning it, Captain. I did not wish to disturb your rest. I was in a light trance, checking my bodily functions, and would have awakened without assistance.” Spock sat up and, realizing he held Jim’s wrist, withdrew his hand a little too quickly. He looked at Kirk, a hint of apology in his eyes.

Kirk looked at his wrist, where the imprints of Spock's fingers were starting to show. “I’m sorry I slapped you, since you didn’t need…” he murmured, still looking at his wrist. 

They both looked up at the same time, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange, as Spock interrupted him.

“No apology is necessary … Jim,” Spock interrupted, noticing the marks he left on the human’s wrist. “I  apol…” he began, but Jim waved a hand dismissively.

“Forget it,” he said, smiling at his First Officer. “If we both keep apologising, there’ll be no end to it.” He moved away from Spock and put his boots on. “So, since we’re both up, is it time to start walking again?” He looked at Spock, waiting for his response.

“Yes, Captain,” Spock said, but seeing the frown directed at him, he amended, “Yes, Jim.” The human’s frown was quickly replaced with a wide grin, and they started collecting their gear.

Sand had become a part of their existence, but  would he ever get used to it? Kirk longed for the smooth corridors of the Enterprise. He missed his crew, the vibration of his ship’s engines, even Bones’s grumbling and their playful bickering. Then his thoughts drifted to the beautiful Shara he had met a few days ago. He paused, then pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the trek ahead.

Visions of waterfalls, shade, trees, and cool, clear water danced in his mind. Idle, foolish daydreams—thoughts, as Spock would call them. Damn, those hills still don’t look any closer than before. If there is water there, the first thing I’ll do is take a bath, even if it kills me. At least I’ll die clean. His gaze fixed on the distant hills, he put one foot in front of the other.

As the planet’s sun—after a moment of blazing heat and light—sank out of sight, twilight was over. Darkness descended, the sky full of glittering stars. The air was cold, but Kirk was glad the heat of the day was finally gone. By the time they set up their tent, the weariness of the walk caught up with him. All he wanted to do was remove his soiled clothes and sleep. but first there was the matter of staying warm.

“Too bad there aren’t any rocks to heat with the phaser,” Kirk said, as they readied to bed down for their second night out in the desert. He glanced at Spock, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I guess you’ll do.”

“What are you refe…” Spock began, then, comprehending what Kirk was referring to, arched an eyebrow. “Logical,” he finished.

“Why, thank you, Spock,” Kirk said, trying not to laugh. “I’m so glad you understand, I don’t intend to freeze like last night. Our combined body heat should keep us warm,” Kirk said with a mischievous smile. “I knew having a Vulcan around would come in handy, in any situation.” Spock’s other eyebrow shot up to join the first, and Kirk burst out laughing. The sound of his laughter filled the small tent, warm and genuine.

The cold woke him. The place beside him was empty. Kirk sat up, and his eyes seeking Spock, who was sitting wrapped in a blanket near the tent’s entrance. The light was dim and he couldn’t see what the Vulcan was doing. “Spock, why aren’t you sleeping?”

The Vulcan looked up from where he was sitting, repairing the communicator, and closed the tent’s flap. “I apologize for waking you.”

The voice was close and Kirk startled. “You didn’t,” he said. He felt Spock as he lay down next to him and covered them both with the blanket. Well, so much for the thought that Spock is embarrassed sleeping so close to me. Why should he be anyway? We've been sleeping close for a couple of nights now. His eyes started to close again and he snuggled closer, the warmth of the Vulcan’s body slowly stopping his shivering.

Spock stiffened up when Jim moved closer to him, but as human’s breathing evened out in sleep, he let his body relax and drifted off. He woke a couple of times when Jim shifted in his sleep, but eventually dismissed the movements as the human’s sleeping trait and did not awaken again.

Kirk woke up feeling totally rested for the first time in a week. He stretched, and glanced at Spock beside him, a feeling of warmth spreading through him. Thinking back, his so-called ‘R&R’ on Kalhinnaya, had left him more wound up than rested.

Two transmissions had come almost simultaneously. One from the Vulcan ambassador to Kalhinnaya, requesting Spock replace him at the diplomatic negotiations for personal reasons. McCoy had convinced him that he needed a few days' rest. Five days—the ambassador’s official replacement would arrive—would do him good, and he should go with Spock. So he had left Scotty in charge of answering the second distress call, from a freighter in the same quadrant, for a simple tow to Starbase 9.  He hadn’t been thrilled about leaving the Enterprise, but Bones had been persuasive, and he hadn’t wanted Spock to go alone.

He had accompanied Spock, bringing Sanders as a precaution. Saunders had been to Kalhinnaya before and spoke some of the native language. After the first couple days, he had grown restless, missing his ship. Kalhinnaya was mainly an agricultural planet,  perfect for Vulcan’s vegetarian needs—hence the negotiations. But he could only take so much of looking at flat plains of wheat, or whatever the hell it was they grew. He forgot what Spock had said or hadn’t been listening. The endless fields reminded him too much of Riverside.

And he hadn’t seen much of Spock either for the first couple of days, except at receptions every night after negotiations had been halted for the day. That’s where he met the pale beauty Shara. She had been the Kalhinni’s daughter—the daughter of their leader—and as the only woman of his household, she had been the hostess out of courtesy to her father’s guests. His heart had raced with excitement the first time he had seen her. She had an androgynous look, pale, tall and long black hair. She had somehow reminded him of Spock. He had managed to exchange a few words with her, before Spock had discreetly drawn him away from the other guests. Although he had been slightly annoyed at the interruption, he had followed Spock outside.

“Captain,” Spock had begun, voice laced with unusual hesitancy. “The Kalhinnayans are very … old fashioned people by our standards. They are an important addition to the Federation and for Vu…”

He had remembered interrupting Spock, his annoyance growing at the prospect of a lecture from him. “Spock, if you brought me out here for a…”

“Please, hear me out, Captain,” Spock had said softly. “The Lady Shara, is the daughter of the most prominent Kalhinni on this planet, and his only child. The women here, particularly unmarried daughters in a family, are sheltered within the household, their freedom severely limited until they marry. Even after marriage, their freedom is only slightly increased.” 

“What are you trying not to say, Spock?”

“Just this, Captain,” Spock had said calmly. “You are free to … show interest in Lady Shara, only if you intend to enter into marriage. Anything else could jeopardize not only these crucial negotiations with the Kalhannayans and Vulcan, but also strain relations with the Federation.”

Kirk had flushed, when Spock’s explanation had sunk in, and he had sputtered. “You mean … she’s a…”  Well, shit! On top of that, he had been effectively told by his First Officer to keep it in his pants.

“Yes, sir.”

“Please convey my apologies to … everyone,” he had said. He had wanted to disappear, and hadn’t even wanted to face Spock at that point. “I’m going back to my room, I need something stronger than what they are serving inside.” As an afterthought, he had added, “and I think I’ll stay there … until we leave.”

And he had. Except for his meals and some solitary walks, he had remained in his room. He had left Spock to provide excuses and attend any other formal gatherings alone. He had seen little of Sanders; apparently, he had found safe diversions, even after he had made a point of warning him to stay away from the women. Shit! He had almost caused a scandal with a … virgin! Gah … who knew what would have happened if Spock hadn’t warned him. He should have talked to his First Officer before they had come here. He had been more tired than he had thought, to make a mistake like that, or perhaps loneliness had clouded his judgment.

After that talk, he had seen more of Spock. Spock’s excuse had been that negotiations were nearly complete, freeing his schedule. He suspected the truth had been, his conscientious Vulcan friend had sensed, or had understood, his loneliness and had offered his company, and he had been grateful. The sooner they left, the better. He had taken too many cold baths, Shara’s image had haunted him as he had laid alone, unable to sleep.

When negotiations had ended a day earlier than their rendezvous with the Enterprise, eager to leave, he had contacted Scotty and they had left to meet the ship en route.

“Sandstorm,” Spock said, urgently.

Kirk sat up, the urgency in Spock’s voice cutting through his memories of Kalhinnaya. “How close?” The air felt thick, heavy with the promise of something unpleasant.

Even at a distance, Vulcan hearing had detected the approaching storm. They scrambled out of the tent, hastily gathering their belongings. Pausing for a moment, they saw it. A roiling wall of red advancing across the desert.

“We’ll have to chance walking,” Kirk said, handing Spock one of the blankets. “We’ll cover up together, try to keep as much of the sand out as possible, and stay together.”

Just before the blanket covered him, Kirk saw the fast approaching threat. This wasn’t like the silent wind raising the sand in small funnel-shaped twisters, they had often seen briefly across the desert. This was a force of nature, an angry howl of wind, blotting out sun and sky behind red clouds of sand and confusion. The landscape was violently rearranged; sand dunes were there suddenly, where none had been before, while others were picked up to be hurled somewhere else.

This was another part of this scorching vastness, as unforgiving as the silence and freezing temperatures of the desert night. In seconds, it was upon them. Gusts of sand swirling, stinging them as they struggled for every step. Sand collected around their feet, trying vainly to cling from being carried off by the wind. At times, they were knee-deep in sand, threatening to engulf them. Kirk lost all track of time as they fought the wind and  the sand. Sand … it was everywhere. He felt it deep in his throat, his nostrils, his eyes, sticking on his sweaty skin. 

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. Silence descended once more, and the sand settled around them. Jim fell on his knees, throwing the blanket off.  His voice was a croak when he spoke, but he wasn’t surprised. “If—when we escape this sandpit, I'm banning sand. Not even a tiny grain, Spock, did you hear me, not even a tiny grain!”

Spock knelt beside him, offering the water container. Kirk drank, swishing the water around his mouth. He was about to spit out the gritty grains, but remembering Spock’s previous stunt—sacrificing his own water rations—with a grimace, he swallowed the sand along with the water. He looked around the empty vastness surrounding them. After all that, the desert appeared unchanged. The same endless dunes stretched to the horizon, the hills they were heading to, barely visible. It was as if the storm had never happened.

He turned to look at Spock, and for the first time since they had been stranded, Kirk noticed his Vulcan companion was … far from tidy. A grin spread across Kirk’s face, and he impulsively reached out to ruffle Spock’s hair.

Spock looked up, catching the movement. Before Jim could touch him, stood and began brushing sand from his hair and clothes. “You are in the same condition,” he stated flatly. “And this conversation is unproductive and illogical. We should continue our journey.” 

“I didn’t say anything, did I?” Kirk replied, his eyes twinkling as he took in Spock’s ruffled appearance once more, before he turned and started walking. And before Spock could see the full extent of his amusement, but he couldn’t quite suppress the chuckle that escaped him. His shoulders shook with silent laughter as he led the way.

Sand, walk, sleep, sand… At least tomorrow we reach the hills. Spock hasn’t said much, I wonder if I irritated him again… Nah, he’s probably just as tired as I am. Kirk’s thoughts went over past and present, as he lay next to Spock, wishing he was laying next to a lover. As a familiar pressure started building up and his hand moved downwards, then remembered he wasn’t alone. Embarrassed, he tried to relax and will away his growing erection, but it only had the opposite effect.

Spock woke when Jim moved. He remained still and silent, assuming the human will settle again. But when the Captain left the tent and when he didn’t return after a few minutes, Spock opened the tent flap. He found Jim sitting outside, gazing at the sky. A flicker of concern crossed Spock’s mind. What is Jim thinking?

“Jim, are you well?” He inquired, but received no answer. “You will get cold. It is not a suitable time for … stargazing … I believe that is the right word for what you are doing, is it not?” Spock questioned, waiting for a reaction to his words. I perceive a discrepancy regarding the human’s requisite for companionship, and Jim’s nature demands it, even on the Enterprise.

“Go back to sleep, my friend,” Kirk said softly, without turning. "I’m fine.” I just need time to cool off. But, I wish you would stay. His silent plea answered, Spock wrapping a blanket around himself, sat down next to him. Kirk felt the cold air chill his skin and, deciding he was being unfairly cruel to Spock, who was more susceptible to the cold, stood up and returned to the tent. The Vulcan silently followed.

Kirk, with his back to Spock, whispered. “Thank you, Spock. Yeah, I was stargazing.” He lied, closing his eyes.

Spock did not reply, as he waited for sleep. He was chilled, but understood he had made the right decision to wait for Jim. The human was still restless in his sleep, tossing and turning, soft moans and sighs emitting from his lips. In sudden comprehension, his eyes widened. I have no solution for Jim, as I have none for himself. I had foolishly thought … it … would not come so soon. And it wasn’t Nyota’s image that came into his mind, but someone infinitely more pleasing, someone  forbidden. The mind teasing image, the rising fever in his blood, did not let him rest throughout the long night.

Kirk opened his eyes and found himself looking at a sleeping Spock. Huh. He always wakes up first and precisely at the right time. He lay quietly, not wanting to disturb the Vulcan’s much needed rest.

When Spock stirred beside him, Kirk asked softly. “Spock? What will happen if we don’t find water, or it’s not drinkable, what then?”

“Jim, speculation is … wasteful. We can decide how to proceed when we reach the hills.”

Jim did not press the Vulcan. He hadn’t received a direct answer, but perhaps Spock was reluctant to voice his own concerns. They lay quietly next to each other, lost in their thoughts.

Would Jim ask me for an easier death that possibly awaits us? No! That is something I refuse to continue thinking about, even if it means saving Jim from an agonizing death. For myself, I will die anyway. It will be such a waste for Jim to die here, alone, mourning and waiting for death. Illogically he indulged in hope; a prompt rescue or a positive solution to their ambiguous situation.

***

“Scotty,” McCoy said, looking up from stirring his breakfast; he had no appetite. “It’s been a week, and still nothing!” He banged his fist on the table. “I should have been with them. Who knows how they are… Damn! Bad timing for that Vulcan diplomant’s…” He trailed off. Yeah, bad timing, pun intended. Pon'Farr. The time of mating that Vulcans go through every seven years. 

“Now, now, Leonard,” Scotty said, his tone reassuring. “You ken well that Mr. Spock couldnae refuse that request, and the Captain … well, the Captain wouldnae let Mr. Spock go alone, would he? We’ll find them, Leonard... Aye, we will. ” He muttered under his breath. We must! I’d rather be with ma engines, not captaining ... ma poor engines!

“Tell me again, why couldn’t we have picked them up, huh?” McCoy said petulantly. “Damn, kid. He could have waited for another day and we wouldn’t be going through this.”

“Doctor, I’ve explained this already,” Scotty said, a sigh escaping him. He was losing his patience; he should be on the bridge, doing something, anything but this. He sighed again, louder this time, though he couldn’t fault Leonard’s worry. Truth be told, I’m worried too, but I’ve gotta keep a clear mind. The man was understandably anxious for the Captain—his friend—and equally concerned for Mr. Spock and Sanders, but Leonard burdened himself with needless guilt for not going with them—as if his being there would've made a difference. “It would’ve saved time, and ‘twas the Captain’s decision,” he said, his voice even. “Besides, ye were needed here. That freighter had too many injured, especially after we discovered it wasnae just a simple tow to the starbase, not with that blowout to their poor engines, before we got there.”

“Yeah,” Bones said, softly. “Everyone was damn busy in med-bay for three days.”

“Och, ma poor engines,” Scotty muttered, not really listening to the doctor. “That blasted ion storm … shook us a fair bit, and…” His eyes widened, as he recalled the ion storm. “I’ll be damned!” he exclaimed, bolting out of the galley, not sparing a word for Leonard.

“What in the blazes…” Bones sputtered, staring at the empty space where Scotty had been sitting. “Damn it! Now I’ve got to go up to  the bridge, to find out what the hell is going on.” He grumbled, hastily clearing their breakfast things off and hurrying after Scotty.

When McCoy reached the bridge, it was a scene of controlled chaos. Scotty’s voice booming around the bridge. “We need tae check the bloody ion storm’s original trajectory tae find the missing shuttle…” Scotty was pacing and thinking out loud. “Plot its course, then correlate it wi’ the shuttle’s last known position … then someone … get a list of all M-class planets nearby, would ye? We’re gonnae worry aboot the others later!”

McCoy didn’t wait to hear the rest. Things were finally starting to look up. He turned around and stepped into the turbolift, heading back to his med-bay. Keeping busy is the best way for me to cope with the gnawing uncertainty about what happened to the kid, Spock and Sanders. Damn it! Why do we dwell on the bad stuff? Spock was—is—right, humans are highly emotional at times. Maybe if we were more like Vulcan’s… He shuddered. Gah! No, sir! What am I thinking? I’ll take passionate, flawed humans over those emotionless, pointy-eared-know-it-all-computers any day!

He didn’t realize it, but as he made his way to med-bay, his steps were lighter than they’d been in days. A faint smile played on his lips, in contrast to the turmoil in his mind.

***

As Kirk stood on top of the tall, rocky hill and looked down at the site in front of him, he couldn’t help turning to look back over his shoulder and compare the contrast between the two areas. Yet, surprisingly alike.

“I can’t be … hallucinating,” he whispered in awe. “You…you’re seeing the same thing, aren’t you?” he said, turning to Spock and the confirmation on the Vulcan’s face was even accompanied by a slight upturn of his lips.

“Yes, Jim,” Spock confirmed. “An … oasis.”

Kirk didn’t say anything else. That word rang repeatedly— oasis —the word itself was music to his ears. The site drew on all the nerves and emotions that hadn’t been deadened by the journey here. He stood looking; even though he was parched and hot, he didn’t immediately follow the Vulcan starting his descend towards the lake on the bottom.

Even from a distance, the gentle ripples of the water’s surface were visible, as a breeze disturbed the calm surface. Not even an artist would have been able to capture all the colors; the orange-brown trees surrounding the brown-green lake cast vibrant reflections creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Offering shade, as precious as water, the scene reminded Jim of autumn back on Earth. But it sure doesn't feel like autumn.

He started down the hill, keeping his eyes on the lake, somehow feeling that if he didn’t it could disappear from in front of his eyes. He could feel the subtle change of the sand’s texture, when he reached the clearing at the base of the hill. Untouched by the storms of the desert, this place was protected from the harshness of sudden winds by the tall rocky hills, and the trees. 

“I’d say, this was like any other oasis, except of course for the colors,” he said to the Vulcan busy looking at his tricorder, it’s whirling sound blending with the gentle rustling of the trees. “Found anything interesting, Science Officer?”

Spock clicked off the tricorder and turned to face his Captain. “Analysis reveals no humanoid presence. The only life forms detected are of unknown biological nature. Energy readings are absent, both in the immediate vicinity and throughout the surrounding area. Furthermore, scans indicate no detectable threat to humanoid life.”

Kirk walked closer to the lake. The crystal-clear water flowed towards him in shimmering curves, breaking gently over shining pebbles and ocher sand. The lake alone gave significance, therefore beauty to this part of the planet; not like the dry, barren and inhospitable desert they had walked through.

Chapter 2, The Hills

Kirk dropped his pack, and started removing his clothes. “I’m going in,” he said. “Coming, Spock?”

“Jim,” Spock tried to forestall the human from acting irrationally. “You should wait until I have made an analysis of the water.”

“Why?” Kirk questioned, turning to smile at his First Officer, while removing his last piece of clothing. “What difference would it make?”

Spock had no answer for that question. He stood frozen, eyes closed, trying to shut out the image of the human’s nude body glistening with sweat from the heat. He heard a splash and pulled himself together, searching for Jim, but only saw the ripples on the water’s surface the human had left behind.

Spock moved closer to the lake’s edge and turned on the tricorder and waited for the human’s readings to register, forgetting about his plans to analyze the water. But disregarded the readings when Kirk resurfaced, with a splash, and called out to him.

“Forget the readings, Spock,” Kirk called out, wiping the water from his eyes. “Come on in. Obviously the water is safe.” he said, smiling and looking expectantly at the Vulcan.

Spock cleared his throat and slowly removed his clothing, looking dubiously at the water.

“Come on. Spock. It’s not cold,” Kirk urged, looking at the sinewy Vulcan body, as he approached the water, and he took a step forward to meet him. His eyes widened when his gaze centered on Spock’s genitals. I know Vulcan’s have green blood, but I didn’t expect … it … to be so … green and… If it’s that long now, I wonder how long it would be if … he was aroused. Huh! Maybe he's a shower not a grower. He looked down at his own and a slow burn of embarrassment rose to his face. What the hell are you doing Jim, comparing dicks with… Shit, think of something else, anything but how big that green dick… When Kirk looked up, he caught Spock looking, maybe even comparing their differences, and when their gazes met, neither said anything. He noticed the Vulcan was shivering. Concerned, he took a step closer. “Is it too cold for you?” He asked.

“Not precisely,” Spock answered, averting his gaze from the naked human. “I neglected to lower my body temperature upon entering the water.”

“Well, let’s get cleaned up and then look for something to eat. I saw fish down there, well, I think they’re fish. Also, there might be some kind of fruit on those trees, we could eat.” Not knowing what else to say, Kirk turned and dove back into the water, leaving the Vulcan on his own.

When he finished cleaning himself and enjoying the water, Kirk spread a blanket on the warm sand, and lay on his stomach letting the sun dry him off. “Forget food, I’m too tired and sleepy to look,” he said, and drifted off.

Spock dressed, and giving Kirk one last look, picked up his tricorder and headed for the trees. Stopping at the first one, he examined it. The tree was laden with fruit, their weight bending the branches almost to the ground. Some of the fruit had fallen and already rotted, giving off a suble, sweet aroma. He scanned one, and finding it compatible for both their digestive systems, broke it open and dipped his finger in the jelly-like core and tasted it. Something I would never do, use my fingers to eat, but there were no serving implements to eat with. The aroma is not unpleasant. Jim may find the brown coloration slightly off-putting, but as it is the only option available for now, it will suffice.

He took his shirt off and collected a few to take back to the Captain. Laying the budle gently on the sand, he broke off some of the dead branches, then carrying his load, he returned to the human still sleeping, placing the fruit next to him, he took their packs towards the trees and unhurriedly started setting up the tent.

Kirk woke up slowly, but when he rolled on his back, the sting brought him to his feet with a gasp. He reached back, feeling the hot skin and winced.

“Spock,” he asked the Vulcan who had hurried to his side, hearing his gasp. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Forty-two minutes,” Spock answered, omitting the seconds. “Are you in pain?” He asked, reaching to touch Kirk’s back, but quickly withdrew before his hand made contact with the human’s skin.

“Ouch! A bit,” Kirk said, his face contorting in a grimace. “I shouldn’t have slept in the sun.” Looking at Spock, he explained. “Sunburn. I bet my back is as red as … this desert. I was too tired and forgot how easily I burn in the sun, without protection, before I tan.”

Spock followed the Captain back to their tent, carrying the fruit and not looking at the human so at ease with his unclothed body. “I gathered some fruit; they do not have any elements that would be adverse to your allergies,” he said, as he broke one open and handed him a half. “It only looks unsavory,” he explained, when Kirk grimaced at the brown jelly sticking to his fingers.

Kirk’s expression changed when he tasted it. “Good, Thank you, Spock,” he said,  then whipped his hand after eating the fruit. “and for  putting up the tent.” He said, and started digging through their packs.

“You are welcome,” Spock said. “ I also brought branches for a fire, although I do not expect it will be as cold here… What are you looking for, Ca—Jim?”

“The medikit,” Kirk answered, still digging in the pack. “I’m looking for any spray for burns. If I don’t put something on my back… Aha! Here it is!” he waved the kit triumphantly at Spock. “I won’t be able to lie on my back, if I don’t put something on it.” The Vulcan took the spray from his hand and motioned him to lay down, then applied it to his back. “Thank you, Spock,” he whispered, sighing in relief from the quick effect on his burning body.

When night came, Kirk lay sleepless—his body stirring with excitement and desire, all because of the Vulcan laying beside him—until the early hours of the morning.

Spock left the tent quietly and walked to the lake to wash, then picked more fruit for their breakfast. Nearing the tent, small moans reached him, fearing Kirk had taken a turn for the worse, dropped the fruit and hurried. As he opened the flap, he froze, and watched fascinated, hidden from Jim, something he wasn’t supposed to see.

Head thrown back, eyes closed, the human was slowly stroking his erect penis, while soft moans escaped from his lips. The hand wrapped around the muscular organ was moving with long, firm strokes that changed to rough and powerful. Jim arched as he neared the edge of release and Spock without thinking, mentally shouted. No! As if his mental shout would stop Kirk. Astonished, he watched as Jim, tired and sweaty, unable to find release, removed his hand from the throbbing organ and lay trembling in unfulfillment.

Spock stood up and quickly moved away. Shaking his throbbing head, he fell on his knees, sick at what he might have done. No, it is not possible, he could not have heard me. He must not know! I can not… His mind was full of the images he had seen. Jim. Golden hair trussled from tossing, the full sensuous lips, the curve of his muscled shoulders, smooth chest, with the tempting rose-brown nipples, down to well defined abs and golden curls around… His temples pounding, the burning fire scorching his nerves, his lungs, his mind … his heart. All the pressure building, like burning coals in the hearth, settling at his groin.

His mind reached out to seek its partner. Like electricity his fiery lust traveled from one end of the link—to a previously unknown connection—of the other. The other… His mind was like the oceans of his world, stormy, cool and refreshing. The perfect balance for his burning fever. He could still smell his … mates scent. Powerfully sweet, clean, tempting. He wanted to touch, to taste and… Then his mind only saw that thick throbbing organ; standing straight, its veins pulsing, full of red blood and ending at that purplish-red tip. swollen, glistening from a seeping drop of fluid. He had to possess that cool body, and quench his burning fire. His body shook, his nerves screaming with burning fire, his mind directing him to mate, towards the tent and the human. Jim…Jim…

I … will … control … this! He saw Jim coming out of the tent and started towards him. Ri! Pehkau. But some still-sane part of his mind stopped him. Clasping his trembling hands behind him, he tried to focus his mind. He … must … not … know.

“Spock,” Kirk started, looking at the Vulcan. “I was going … to look for you. I had this feeling that you…I…” He stopped, looking a little lost at where his thoughts were going; he ran a hand over his face. “Are you all right?” he asked, and when he did not receive an answer, he continued softly. “Sorry, I must still be feeling the effects of the sun … from yesterday. I’m going for a swim, maybe that will clear my head.”

“Yes, Jim,” Spock finally answered, releasing his clasped hands. He sat on the sand, slowly regaining some measure of control, but unable to suppress the increasing blood fever. I have to keep away from Jim, but I can not do so indefinitely. The next logical step is to guide myself to the stage of Pon Far—when there is no available mate, and before running amok—death.

For the rest of the day, he avoided the human, spending the hours exploring and recording their surroundings. He tried not to think about what effect this had on Jim, it was for the best. When evening came, they sat by the fire and he kept turning to look at the tent. When he realized Jim noticed his uncharacteristic behavior, he was at a loss of what to say if Jim questioned him. I can not tell him why I should not sleep so close to him, because of what might—would happen. And I can not move elsewhere without a valid reason for doing so.

“What are you looking at, Spock?” Kirk asked, frowning and turned to look also, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Nothing, Captain,” Spock stated.

“I see,” Kirk said slowly. “Then stop looking over your shoulder, as if you’re expecting something to jump at you,” he chided gently. Spock has been awfully jumpy the last couple of days. And we’re back to captain again. I wonder what’s wrong? “Have you finished recording all the flora and fauna?” he asked, changing the subject and trying to start a conversation with his uncommunitive First Officer. Are we going backwards? I thought after Khan we were starting to become … friends. Even if I want more, he doesn’t know that … does he?

“No, Captain,” Spock replied, not really concentrating on Kirk’s words. His thought patterns were getting mixed up from the blood fever.

“Well?”

“What … Captain?” Spock asked, startled.

Kirk wanted to yell at the Vulcan, but controlled the impulse and sighed. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you’ve found, or what will you be doing tomorrow?”

“I shall continue recording,” Spock answered flatly.

Well, at least he answered with a full sentence. Whoopty-fucking-do. When Spock didn’t say anything else, he stood up to leave. “I’m going to wash, then sleep. Goodnight, Spock.” He started to say something else, thought better of it, and turned away leaving Spock staring at the fire.

Kirk was venting his anger at the Vulcan by vigorously scrubbing his hands and face. No, Captain; yes, Captain. What did I do? He couldn’t have felt my… Shit! So, he excites me; always did—does. But he was in a relationship. I didn’t do anything, and I won’t. He hasn’t been touching  me, always has his shields up, anyway! So, he doesn't know. But, how the hell am I going to sleep with him so close again? And—and why the hell, couldn’t I come this morning?

His thought brought renewed excitement and Kirk, frustrated, removed his clothes and dived into the lake, hoping a swim would cool him off. When it didn’t work, still wet, he dressed and headed towards the tent. He passed the Vulcan, who didn’t say anything or look up at him.

When Spock—shielding himself as much as possible from the human—entered the tent, Kirk was asleep. He lay down, as far away as possible, closing his eyes and trying to steady his mind. Meditation had proved impossible. The pain and desire coursing through his body would not let his mind control those reactions, leaving him exhausted and needing more sleep than usual which was also becoming harder to achieve.

He woke up sometime in the night, his internal clock was another thing that was affected by the blood fever. He found the human pressed close to him and tried to move slowly away from him. His movement woke Jim up.

“Sorry, Spock,” he mumbled and rolled away.

“Captain…” he started, but Jim did not answer him, pretending to be asleep, and he did not finish whatever he was going to say.

In the morning Spock found himself alone in the tent. When he stepped out, he found Jim sitting by the burned-out fire, eating, and he approached slowly.

“Morning, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said cheerfully and motioned toward the fruit. “I thought I’d return the favor and collect our breakfast. Help yourself.”

“Captain,” Spock started. “About last night…” but the human interrupted him.

“Did something happen last night?” Kirk asked, without looking up, the fruit he was eating hovered close to his lips for a second, then he continued eating.

Spock saw the color drain from Jim’s face, and answered quietly. “Nothing, Captain. Nothing at all.” He picked his tricorder and turned to leave.

“Aren’t you … going to eat, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked softly, his own appetite leaving him.

“I do not require sustenance, Captain,” He said and stood waiting, feeling the human’s eyes on his back, not knowing if he should turn and face him or walk away. He did not need to decide; Kirk did it for him.

“Very well. Carry on, Mr. Spock.”

I’m sorry Jim, this is for the best … for both of us. Spock thought as he walked away.

Kirk watched the Vulcan’s retreating back, until he couldn’t see him anymore, then turned and walked off in the opposite direction. Spock … I need you, your friendship, and by wanting more, I have destroyed—everything—us. And, so help me, I still want you. But… How did you know? Hurry up, Scotty! Neither of us will last long. One of us, me, most likely, will say something that can’t be taken back and really destroy everything. Bones, where are you, I need to cry on your shoulder.

He continued walking aimlessly, until he was lost. He climbed to higher ground to get his bearings. From the top of the hill, he turned and faced the endless emptiness of the desert stretched before him. He sat down, among the withered plants, brown, dried empty husks, unprotected from the sun. There was nothing here, only he, the desert, and his thoughts. Stillness, solitude, space. He looked at the sky, the planet’s sun reaching its zenith. Time to go back to camp and reality.

He slipped and tried to regain his footing but it was too late. He tried to grip at anything to stop himself from tumbling and sliding down the loose rocks of the hill. A stunning blow was the last thing he remembered. Slight noises broke the notion of absolute silence. It’s nice here, no need to hurry and get up. Then, a sudden flood of memories and thoughts returned and he opened his eyes and tried to sit up. 

A moan escaped his lips, and for the moment it was good enough to get as far as kneeling. Kirk looked around, everything was slightly out of focus and he shook his head trying to clear his vision. A wave of pain surged through his head and nausea rose burning his throat. Deciding not to try anything hasty again, he waited until the pain and sickness subsided then carefully stood up. Well, at least I didn’t break anything … except maybe my head. The pain came again, fearing of losing consciousness again, he waited until his vision cleared and the pain ebbed. I wonder if Spock is looking for me. He snorted. Yeah, right. Considering Spock’s behavior the last couple of days, he probably doesn’t know I’m gone. He’s been going out of his way to stay away from me. A wave of sadness spread in his chest. He checked himself and after dusting off his clothes, started his walk back to their camp. Damn, more bruises, just as the old ones were fading away too. Oh, I’m going to be sore tonight! I’ll live. I just hope Spock doesn’t notice anything.

He returned to the tent, expecting to have only his thoughts, and the sounds of the oasis, as company. Surely the lake, trees, and the fact they were both alive, should have been enough to console him. But for his human need—hunger, for something that was beyond his reach. He spotted the Vulcan standing in front of their tent and his mood lifted. Maybe Spock waiting for him was a good sign, that whatever had made the Vulcan withdraw from him had passed, and their friendship would ment itself once more.

When Spock did not move or greet him, his doubts returned, and his approach became guarded. “Evening, Spock,” he said in a low voice. Not looking at the Vulcan, he started to walk past him, but Spock caught his arm, and he was forced to stop.

“Blood. What…where…” Spock stopped, releasing his hold on the human, but he worriedly continued to examine Jim’s appearance.

Kirk startled, quickly recovered and with a mirthless laugh explained. “Oh! I bumped my head on a branch, I didn’t notice it bled,” he said, reaching to touch his forehead, trying to sound indifferent. “I’ll go clean up.” Damn. That was careless, I didn’t check myself good enough.

Just as he was finishing cleaning up, Spock came and stood beside him. “Yes, Mr. Spock?” he asked, keeping his voice steady. Instead of answering, the whirling of the small med-scanner sounded as Spock scanned him. He stood up hastily, wavered, and the Vulcan’s hand steaded him. He pulled away from the touch, strangely afraid to meet Spock’s eyes. Afraid Spock will see the need in me, and equally afraid of his … rejection.

“I’m fine,” he said, agitation making his voice harsher than he intended. “You’re as bad as Bones.”

“Slight concussion and contusions,” Spock stated, looking at the readings.

“It’s nothing a good night's sleep won’t fix,” he said tightly. As Spock turned to leave, it was now he that tried to stop him. “Why, Spock? What have I done?” He asked, unable to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

Spock tenced. “Done? You have not done anything, Captain.”

“Then why…why are you shutting me out? Tell me!” he questioned, then impatiently continued, without waiting for Spock’s answer. “You’ve hardly said more than two words to me, since we got here. You used to talk to me more on the Enterprise, which isn’t saying much, but this…Yes, Captain; no, Captain…” He was waiting for an answer, anything, but Spock just stood there, like he hadn’t heard a word he said. He sighed. “Yeah, okay… If I’ve done anything to offend you, I apologize. If you don’t like my company—I do talk a lot—I’m sorry. There are the two of us here and we can’t change that. If the Enterprise finds us quickly, great. Otherwise we might be here for a long time, and … oh, nevermind. I seem to be talking to myself … goodnight, Mr. Spock.”

Spock sat on the warm sand, gazing at the stars, and let his shields drop. The fire surged within him, making him visibly tremble with the strain to control himself, not to seek the human. Jim! He thought of the pain and loneliness Jim would feel when he was dead; he thought of things he’d seen and done and would never do so again. He thought of his off-and-on relationship with Nyota—she had not wished to bond— it had been a point of contention between them, and he inadvertently had been drawn to Jim. Now, he hoped Kirk would forgive him for what he was about to do. 

Unsteadily he stood and returned to the tent. Kneeling next to the sleeping human he started the process of shutting down his body. Some sense returned to his mind, dying next to Jim was not the place to be, he needed to move. He reached to touch Jim, in a last farewell and touched cold skin. Thinking Jim’s injuries had caused a turn for the worse he started checking his vitals. He needed to think, unconsciously his body reverted its shut down processes and he noticed the human’s pulse elevated and Spock froze. Impossible! There is no deep connection between us. Jim should not be feeling…

Spock slumped next to the human in resignation. I can not choose … death, without affecting Jim too. There is another solution. I must sevier the link now, while Jim is asleep. He reached out for the meld points, but the human stirred.

Kirk, slightly disoriented, woke up and, looking around, found the Vulcan kneeling next to him and sat up alarmed. “What’s the matter? What happened?” he asked urgently, then sighed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up again?”

“No, I was … checking … to see…” Spock said, haltingly. He had delayed too long, now he could not sevier the link, not without the human asking questions as to why he would want to initiate a meld. “I was checking on you, Captain.” he stated more firmly.

Kirk waved a hand. “I’m fine, other than a headache,” he said, trying to look at the Vulcan in the dimness of the tent. There is something suspiciously wrong with Spock. Vulcan’s do not stutter. “Are you … all right?” He asked carefully.

“No,” Spock said shakily. “I seem … to have developed one too.”

Spock saw surprise and confusion on the human’s face and moving closer, drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It’s useless. We can not continue this way, maybe if I explain, Jim would understand. Something has to be done, before I lose all control and force myself on Jim. Even if Jim went through pon’farr with me, I wonder if he would ever forgive me afterwards, or would it turn to anger and hate? And I would not wish to live with the knowledge and shame of what I had done.

Suddenly, an idea formed and his hand, fingers spread, moved towards Jim’s temple. “My system will correct the condition; shall I help you with yours?” He waited expectantly, irrationally hoping his attempt at deception would work. Jim pulled away from him, even more surprised.

“No, thank you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said quickly, moving away from the outstretched hand. “A hypo will do.”

Spock turned away; there was nothing to be done now. He lay down, but sleep would not come tonight. The fever was ragging within him; soon he would not be able to control his actions.

Kirk lay down; he wasn’t going to look for the med-kit, the headache had dulled. I never thought Spock would offer the meld for something so trivial, and to me, of all people. Why now? Especially the way he's been acting. There’s something wrong. Either I’ve missed something, or haven’t found it … yet. Going over everything, he had to finally give up—he couldn’t unravel the Vulcan’s behavior—all the thinking was depressing him.

Kirk awakened, worried that pulling away would wake Spock, who was a light sleeper. Oh, no! Not again! I don’t want to embarress both of us, but how am I going to move, when Spock is holding ... me ... so tight… what is going on? Why is Spock holding me and… Shit, his body heat is making things worse. Why hasn’t he woke up? He did before, when I got too close. He lay as still as he could  and in between Spock’s breaths he thought he heard his name whispered softly. He just started to pull away, when Spock shifted. Now, his thigh was locked between Spock’s legs, and he could feel the pulsing pressure of the Vulcan’s genitals against him. Imposible. I’m just transferring my excitement to Spock. He moved his arm a little, brushing his fingertips over Spock’s back. That small movement caused tremors to run through the Vulcan’s body, and the pulse of Spock’s penis increased against his thigh, causing his own to throb in response. Shit! I’m arousing him, and he, me! Wooh! Arousing … Spock? Seriously? With his super control? What the hell is going on? Shit!

Their body contact, elicited a response from Spock, but not the one Kirk expected. More heat emitted from the Vulcan and the arm around him tightened even more, pulling him even closer. He definitely heard his name whispered this time by Spock. Spock’s hand moved, seeking the meld points on Kirk’s face. “Jim,” he whispered.

Without a second thought, Kirk tightened his hold on the Vulcan, pressing his lips to Spock’s, kissing him  passionately. “Spock … wake up,” he said, between kisses. “I … want you.” His hand moved over the Vulcan’s hip towards his groin, his fingers fumbling with the closure. Then they were inside, caressing, feeling Spock’s dick swell and pulse even more under his insistent hand. Small moans of pleasure sounded in the tent, as he continued making Spock respond.

Spock felt Jim’s thoughts reaching him, he couldn’t shield, or repress his response to their minds touching. His burning fever blending with Jim’s passion. Soft lips kissing him, the hand stroking his lok. Yet, a still thinking part of his mind tried to reason with the human’s. Jim … stop. You … do not know … Jim … you…

Spock! Don’t talk … er … think right now. Please, I don’t want to stop. I want you, Spock. He drew away from the Vulcan’s lips, trying to pull their clothes off. “Please, Spock,” he murmured, bending over the Vulcan, kissing and licking, biting gently, at any part he uncovered.

“Jim … before … it is too late,” Spock strained to speak. “ T’hy’la … maybe … it’s too late…”

Kirk moved up trying to look at the Vulcan, running his finger over Spock’s lips,  he whispered. “You talk too much,” he said, as his lips covered the Vulcan’s, his tongue delving to explore before moving downwards to slowly lick a nipple, until he felt it harden under his tongue. His hands roaming over the trembling body, reached the waistband of Spock’s pants, he stopped, and moved away to frantically search his pack for … Hand cream. Oh, well, it’ll do. Can’t expect to find lubricant in… He stopped thinking and turned back to the Vulcan, who still laying panting and trembling. He removed his clothing, and had Spock’s off in seconds. Keeping his eyes on the quivering tower of green flesh, he slowly bent over it, until his lips and tongue were wrapped around the swollen shaft, and the smooth head was between his lips. Meanwhile, his fingers, slathered with cream, were busy at the opening of his ass.

Spock lost himself in the sensations of Jim’s mouth on his lok. Moaning he began to thrust, and Jim was trying to take every inch of him. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he convulsed in climax, his sperm filling the human’s mouth and he felt Jim swallowing. As he lay panting, Jim drew away and moved up to kiss him again, and Spock tasted himself on Jim’s lips.

Kirk drew the Vulcan with him, as he rolled on his back, cradling the Vulcan between his thighs, his dick rubbing against the hard body above him. 

Spock kneeled between the spread thighs and lightly caressed the human. By the time he reached Jim’s pubic hair, the human was writhing with arousal. His thick shaft pulsing and leaking. Stopping, his fingers found the meld points on Kirk’s temple. Jim … show me what to do. After the initial surprise in the human’s mind, the images and words tumbled from the human’s mind to his own. 

Do … whatever … nothing different from … what you would do … to yourself, Spock. Mostly everything … is the same as you … would do to … a woman … except I have a di—penis not a… Kirk gave up trying to explain and took Spock’s hand and placed it on his dick. He wrapped his hand around the Vulcan’s and guided his movements, showing him how he liked his dick handled. 

The hard, throbbing organ in his hand, the musk reaching his nostrils, the blood fever scorching his nerves, triggered the intense sexual urge to mate. Plak’tow. Mind and body were now driven by it; rational thought left him. He drew his mate closer. Fingers spread, seeking the opening into his mate’s body and pressed in. He began thrusting. Each thrust became deeper, harder, than the previous one, seaking relief.

The pain of Spock’s long, hot shaft piercing him, stretching the unused muscle, left Kirk gasping in pain. And trying to relax his anal muscle proved challenging for a while. But the thought of Spock doing this to him slowly brought the thrill of excitement back. Moaning in exquisite pain and ecstacy, as the thrusts became faster, his muscles tightened and relaxed to the Vulcan’s frenzied rhythm. Their bodies worked together, moving to the farthest edge of pleasure, until they both cried out. Waves of fire and light exploded in their minds, as they climaxed.

Sweat and cum covering his belly, Kirk lay panting, a feeling of contentment washing over him. Then his eyes widened in surprise when Spock’s still rigid cock stirred inside him. For a moment, he thought he felt the Vulcan’s fear that he might be hurt, but then Spock started moving with renewed strength, and Kirk…

Again, there was that blinding explosion, in their joined minds, as orgasm hit them both. Kirk’s laughter echoed in their minds, as he reached for Spock, trying to draw him down into a kiss. “Spock…” But before he could finish, Spock pulled away and Kirk saw the bright, glittering eyes,  looking at him as if he were a stranger. The Vulcan’s fingers bit hard into his flesh, as Spock drew his hips closer.

“Spock?”

“Pehkaya… ” Spock growled at him. “ ...dvum-tor .”

Even though Kirk didn’t understand the words, the tone of voice warned him, Spock was beyond control, and he let his body lay pliant under their tightly pressed bodies. He was swept along, in a pulsing rhythm of mounting excitement and mutual need; lost in the fiery demand of Spock’s mind and body. Nash-veh mokuhlek ri pehkaya. Kirk heard the words in his mind over and over again. What is Spock saying?   He lost track of time. At times, he felt totally drained and wanted nothing more than to sleep; every inch of his body ached. But every time Spock started thrusting, his desire was there to meet him, his orgasms coming simultanusly with the Vulcan’s.

Kirk could feel Spock tiring. The moments in between, getting longer, until, with a groan Spock collapsed on him, shuddering, and Kirk knew it was over. Whatever this … was. Spock’s weight pressed him down, but he didn’t have the strength to move, much less push the Vulcan away. His eyes closed, exhaustion overtaking him, but something pulled him back from much needed rest and sleep. Crying? No, I’m not… He forced his eyes open and tried to speak, but nothing came out. He moved his aching arms and pulled the Vulcan close. What should I say? Think, Jim, think. I’m sooo … tired.

Spock? Spock, what’s the matter? What's wrong? But the Vulcan’s soundless sobbing increased. No, Spock, don’t… It’s all right. Everything is alright! He whispered. No, it was in his mind, the words didn’t come out of his mouth. And he still didn’t get an answer; only Spock’s arms tightened around him. His own eyes filled, as pain and sadness reached him through the link. I wish you would tell me … Spock, please! He pleaded, but Spock only shook his head and wouldn’t talk—think, whatever.

“Spock!” He thought he shouted the name, but even to his own ears it was a croaking whisper.

“I could not … stop. I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” Spock said, amid his sobbing. 

Kirk raised the Vulcan’s head, looking at the pain filled eyes and understood. “Don’t, Spock,” he said, smiling. “I’m fine. Just a little sleepy, that’s all.” He ran his fingers through the black silky hair and sighed in contentment. “I love you, Spock,” he whispered. He suddenly realized what he said, but the words were out before he had a chance to consider the Vulcan’s reaction at his confession. Fearing rejection, for a moment he regretted his rashness, and from the way the Vulcan was frowning at him, he decided, it definitely had been the wrong thing to say.

A question started to form in his mind, but he squashed down along with a pang of sadness, turning his mind instead towards the need to offer comfort to his hurting Vulcan. It doesn’t matter anyway. It was mine to give and I shared it freely, regardless of any response. Long, and for the moment, gentle fingers fluttered over his face.

“Jim.”

“No,  don’t say anything,” Kirk said, softly. “Kiss me.”

Spock lowered his mouth to the human’s, kissing the soft lips, parting under his. The link between them open. I sensed your feelings, there was not need to express them./ I wanted to, Spock.

Spock perceived Jim’s pleasure, and he revealed his own contentment in the human’s amicable compliance with his time. He felt Jim’s arms slipping from around his neck, Jim was falling asleep. Spock drew away; he had the irrational urge to shake the human awake. Didn’t Jim since his need? There is no logic; need is consuming rational thought. Jim has denied me nothing. He is human, and needs rest.

Kirk woke up when Spock moved away. “Where … you going?” he asked. He was tired and sleepy, but sat up.

“Rest…” Spock said, a slight hesitation in his voice. “You will need—you will need your strength.”

Spock’s voice sounded almost like his normal expressionless tone, but Kirk picked up the slight hesitation between the words. Before he could say anything, the Vulcan left the tent. His anger flared for a second, damping it down, and forgetting his weariness, he followed the Vulcan outside.

“So, you’re … done and that’s it?” he said, the anger he had felt earlier was not quite absent from his voice, he sighed. What about me? Forget it, JT! …it was never about you. “Well, you can’t stay out here, you’ll get cold.” He said to the Vulcan, then gentled his voice. “Come on, get inside, I won’t … ask anything from you. Did you hear me, Spock?”

“Yes, but…” Spock started, and Kirk waited patiently for the Vulcan to continue. “I can not lay next to you and not want … I am not sated … yet.”

The reply startled Kirk. He slowly reached out and caressed the Vulcan’s arm, feeling the small tremors running over the Vulcan’s skin at his touch. Like a racehorse twitching at the starting gate. He whispered teasingly, close to a pointed ear. “Couldn’t you have said that before? When you left you gave me the wrong idea.” He pressed closer, wrapping Spock in a warm hug.

Spock tried to pull away, but Kirk hung on tightly.  “Didn’t I tell you, I love you?” he whispered fondly. “Did you think I’d want … I know what others say about me, but I’m not like that, Spock.” When the Vulcan didn’t try to move away this time, he continued. “Look, you've been in a relationship. You know lovers sleep in eachothers arms, so they can wake up to…”

He turned the Vulcan around and the fire in Spock’s eyes took his breath away. They were done with words for now. Whatever was going on with Spock was starting again and he felt desire rising again. The Vulcan growled. He barely made it inside the tent before Spock had him pinned down and they lost themselves once again in the mix of heat and sex. Spock couldn’t control this … need, anymore than he could control his response to the Vulcan. Kirk lost all track of time. Sleep, wakefulness, sex, all became one. He was sore, brushed, and dehydrated. Spock spasmed as he came, filling him, and fell on him exhausted. They both lay in suspended passion, and Kirk knew it was over, for now.

Spock’s body heat combined with the heat coming from outside, were enough to wake Kirk, bathed in sweat. He slowly disentangled himself from the slumbering Vulcan and reaching for water, quenched his thirst. He needed to clean the dry, itchy semen all over him and ignoring his protesting muscles left the tent.

Spock woke up when he heard Jim leave the tent. The Plak’tow had dissipated, but the blood fever was not altogether gone. After two days of intense sexual activity, hunger and rational thought was returning to his fevered mind. Now, he was hoping the pon’farr would soon be over. He left the tent and after taking care of his bodily needs, washed himself, and went looking for Jim.

“Jim,” he called softly, as not to startle the human when he found him in the cluster of trees close to their tent.

Jim turned and looked at the naked Vulcan approaching him. His eyes ran appreciatively over his lover's body and he smiled in welcome. “Hey! Are you hungry?” he asked, offering a fruit.

“Yes, thank you,” Spock replied and started eating the offered fruit.

“Can I ask you something?” Kirk started tentatively. “It might be personal, but … I really would like to know, please.”

“You may ask,” Spock said.

“What…what is going on?” Kirk asked. “I mean, well, the sex is great, but I didn’t think you were into…” He rubbed his forehead. Should I say me, or males? “I guess what I’m asking is, why me? You are with … is something…” He huffed in frustration, at not expressing himself clearly, he had too many questions. Shit, this Spock. Vulcans don't talk about sex.

“Jim,” Spock started, understanding the human had questions and all vying for priority in questioning his motives. “My relationship with Nyota ended 6.2 months ago. As for ... what is occurring between us…” he paused. I am about to reveal something Vulcans hid behind ritual and ceremony and quarded from outsiders; but Jim has the right to know, as … temporary mate through my time. “...it is called, pon’farr. The time of mating,” he explained. “It occurs on a seven-year cycle, to all Vulcans. It is a time when Vulcans seek to mate, or the chemical imbalance may cause insanity, loss of control, and … death.”

Kirk’s jaw dropped, as he listened to Spock explain. “Um…wow?” he stuttered. “So, um … I’m…” Nope, no way, JT, don’t say it! You may be—may be a fill in, until he finds… “... glad … you told me.” He finished lamely. I need to stop thinking about … it hurts ... to think ... Spock is only with me because...because there is no one else available. Fuck! Why do I always get into these situations—relationships that go... Let it go, JT, let it go...

They walked aimlessly among the trees, each lost in their own  thoughts, sometimes picking a fruit and eating, or watching what little animal life was around them scurry away when they were spotted.

“Oh,” Kirk said, breaking free from his gloomy thoughts. “You kept repeating some words in Vulcan.” He turned to face Spock and smiled. “What does, pekaya, dumtor—sorry, I know I butchered the words—also, nassve, something, ri and pekaya again, mean?” He asked, curiously.

Startled, Spock stopped walking and turned to face Kirk. “Yes, you are not pronouncing the words correctly, but I understand what you asked. Did I … mention anything else?”

“Just my name, after the last word,” Kirk said, shrugging.

“Pehkaya dvum-tor, translates to: stay still; nash-veh mokuhlek ri pehkaya: I can not stop. In essence, I was telling you not to move and apologizing because I was unable to stop.” Spock explained.

“Is that all?” Kirk said, smirking. “And don’t worry, you didn’t reveal any deep dark secrets, Spock.” He said, at the Vulcan’s raised eyebrow. “You repeated those same words a lot, and for some reason I thought you were swearing at me.”

“I do not swear,” Spock emphasised, but then apologetically added. “At least, not outloud … why are you laughing?”

“Ohh,” Kirk said, doubled over in laughter. “I—I just thought what Bones would have said if he heard you say that.” He started laughing again.

“I am sure, the doctor would undoubtedly have found something inappropriate to state. He always has something to say, to counteract my words.”

“Oh—oh, my stomach hurts,” Kirk said, as he slid down onto the sand, laughing.

“I do not see what is so humorous about what I said,” Spock said, standing stiffly in front of the human.

Kirk couldn’t speak, if he didn’t know better he would say the Vulcan was sulking, but did not mention that, as he motioned Spock to join him. As the Vulcan started to sit next to him, Kirk pulled him to sit between his opened legs, then took a deep breath, to calm his giggling. “I’m sorry, Spock,” he started. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing at the thought of what Bones would say, and I couldn’t stop.” He ran his hands over the Vulcan, trying to sooth him. “Please, don’t be mad at me.”

“I…”

Kirk didn’t give Spock a chance to deny anything as he kissed him, taking the Vulcan by surprise, as it took him a couple of seconds to respond. He stopped kissing Spock when he was out of breath. They sat relaxing under the canopy of the tree. The Vulcan with his back against him, the slick, dark head leaning against his shoulder, seemed remote, yet, at the same time intimate.

“What are you thinking about, Spock?” he murmured.

“Many things, Jim. But I am relaxed, they are nothing of importance.”

“Huh, thanks for telling me,” Kirk said, squeezing the Vulcan. He felt a slight movement from Spock a few minutes later, and his arms tightened. “Stay,” he whispered.

“I was not going to leave, Jim. I was merely settling more comfortably.”

“In that case, don’t move too often,” Kirk mumbled, drowsily. “We’re here to relax.” 

A small, amused puff of air tickled his ear, before the human’s breath evened out in sleep. He did not move, aware of Jim’s need for undisturbed rest. But he could not sleep, his rest and sleep cycles had been disrupted by the blood fever. He unconsciously shifted away from whatever was pressing against him and he turned to face the human.

Jim’s breathing was elevated and as Spock’s gaze moved downwards he noticed what had disturbed him. The human was fully aroused in his sleep and small murmurs were issuing from his lips. His curiosity got the better of him, and his fingers found the meld points on Jim’s face. He was instantly drawn into Jim’s dream, and it became progressively erotic.

Jim was murmuring against his mouth. “Kiss me, touch me. Do all the things I’ve been dreaming  about, since we started loving each other.” Jim was guiding his hands to the parts of his body that excited him the most. He followed the request and kissed Jim on the lips, then his throat, over the smooth muscled expense of his chest, to his nipples… “Lower, Spock,” Jim invited, breathlessly. “Kiss me … lower…” His lips slid downwards and when he reached his navel, Jim’s hands pushed him further down, until his lips were an inch away from the human’s pulsing organ. Jim’s fingers held on to his hair tightly and urged his head down. “Open…open your mouth…”Jim groaned. “Please ... suck me, Spock…”

Spock drew his hand away from the human’s face, as if stung. Does Jim really want … that ... from me? He looked back at the human. Jim was still asleep, and as he sat wondering if he would—could do that specific act for Jim, another image asserted itself. The sensation of Jim’s mouth on his lok, the first day of his pon’farr, a potent, undeniable response, unlike his experiences with Nyota. Early in our relationship I had deemed the acts of fellatio and cunnilingus…unsanitary. In the following years of our fluctuating relationship I had accepted that they were part of human sexuality, but as Nyota had quite often asserted, ‘I was not adventurous, I was too ‘vanilla’. In consequence of pon'farr, I am engaging in sexual activity with a … male. There are historical pairings in Vulcan’s past; T’hy’la. The term applies for both dual-gender bonds, and same-sex bonds. Yet, am I considering, or reconsidering, the feasibility of a same-sex relationship with Jim? Would it be an acceptable pairing now, given the diminished Vulcan population? Given the necessity, I may be able to find a Vulcan mate and bond, but I was an unacceptable bondmate before, and... Before he could contemplate the matter any further, the human stirred, then stood up.

“Come on, Spock,” Kirk said softly. He noticed Spock looking at his erection, but he ignored it. It was a residue of his very enjoyable dream. “Let’s go for a swim. It’s getting dark.”

They washed and returned to the tent, Kirk drifted off, content to lay close to Spock without the heated passion, at least for the moment. 

“Jim,” Spock called out, moving closer to the  human, his hand tightening compulsively on Kirk’s arm.

Kirk turned to the Vulcan. “I’m awake, Spock,” he replied and drew the Vulcan into his arms.

Spock hid his face into the hollow of Jim’s throat and whispered. “I need…”

“Shh … I know.” Kirk soothed the trembling Vulcan. He grabbed the lotion and hurriedly prepared himself. Spock’s fingers were on his temple and for the first time since all this started, he felt the connection between them. This … link they had—even though they had communicated by thought alone before … he had not paid attention.

Through the link between them, desire ran through his veins, like liquid fire. Impatient for Spock, he moved restlessly. He raised his legs and cried out as the Vulcan’s hardness pierced him, and they shared the hunger for satisfaction. Kirk’s movements matched the Vulcan’s. Their heated senses blending as one, pleasure exploding again and again, both physically and mentally.

Spock collapsed against him, arms still holding him tight, exhausted. Soon Spock’s breathing evened out, fast asleep. The fever had lasted for a shorter period of time, reminding Kirk that soon, it would be over entirely. I don’t want to think about what will happen after it’s over. He slipped out of the Vulcan’s embrace, and left the tent quietly.

It was early morning, and the first rays of sunlight brightened the horizon; another day passed and a new one was just beginning. Kirk went to the lake and slowly wadded in. The water was still cool, from the night before, cooling his flushed skin. He swam lazily, trying to forget the pain in his heart and mind.

He was gathering fruit, for their breakfast, when he felt Spock seeking him through the link. It’s still open, Spock is not shielding. He hurried back, aware of the Vulcan’s need.

“You left,” Spock accused.

Kirk noticed the Vulcan’s heightened color, the brightness in his eyes. The fever has returned. So soon? “I went to get us something to eat,” he said softly.

“I do not wish to eat,” Spock answered, fists clenching.

“All right,” Kirk answered. “If you don’t want to eat, what would you like?” He asked, gently, smiling mischievously.

“I want…” Spock started, reaching out to the human. “...you.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Kirk teased, letting the Vulcan draw him close. “Instead of getting angry with me.” He lay down, pulling Spock on top of him.

“I am saying so, now…” Spock’s hands moved restlessly over Jim’s body. “And I am not angry.”

“If you say so,” Kirk said, returning the Vulcan’s touch.

“I am…”

Kirk interrupted him. “Now, don’t start. You want to fight, or make love?” He smiled at the frowning Vulcan.

“I prefer the second alternative.”

“Me, too,” he said, handing Spock the tube of lotion, letting him do the prep this time.

The Vulcan leaned forward and kissed him lightly as the long fingers opened him up. He was still loose from before and Kirk abandoned himself to Spock’s need, and his own, in a fast demanding rhythm as before. And just as quickly as it had come, it was over once again.

When Spock moved, Kirk cuddled next to the Vulcan, his fingers weaving in the soft hair on Spock’s chest. After a while he became aware of Spock trying to move away, and impulsively his fingers clenched at the dark chest-hair, and Spock … winched.

“Sorry,” Kirk said, withdrawing his hand.

“Just because you do not have any, there is no need to forcefully remove mine.” Spock stated flatly.

Kirk chuckled. “I said I was sorry. I wasn’t even aware of doing it,” He petted the silky hair again, gently this time. “And why would I want to remove this silky rug,” he purred. “I like it. And, do you know, lots of women love hairy chests.” he murmured.

Spock did not wish to continue this inane conversation, but his curiosity was piqued. He turned to face Jim. “Why?” he asked.

“Why?” Kirk repeated. “Because they like doing what I'm doing?” He explained. “It’s sexy, um, erotic,” he said, smiling, and ran his fingers over the silky pelt again, tugging gently. 

“It is also painful.”

“Is it?” Kirk asked, and repeated the gesture, but very gently this time. He chuckled, when Spock tried to move away from his hand. “Where’re you going?”

“I am experiencing a strange tingling sensation,” Spock stated, defensively.

“Spock … are you ticklish?” Kirk said incredulously.

“Certainly not!” Spock said, adamantly.

“Yes, I think that’s what that tingling sensation is,” Kirk said, with a wide smile. “You’re sensitive … shall we … find out where else you might be…” Kirk asked, suggestively. 

“I prefer not to know.”

“Spoilsport,” Kirk said, pouting. “You don’t want to find out, because you might start laughing,” he insisted. Trying to get a reaction from the Vulcan, he reached towards Spock’s chest hair once again.

Spock restrained the human’s hand. “Jim, this discussion of my chest hair is irrelevant. Since I am always wearing my uniform, its presence will not be observed by any female. Furthermore, you attract the attention of females, and I see only one area where … hair is evident. The rest is minimal, or non-existent.”

“Are you trying to … insult me?” Kirk asked, his eyes twinkling. “But, tell me, in which … area is hair visible?” He questioned, enjoying their silly banter.

The Vulcan let his gaze roam over Kirk’s nude body, then looked into Jim’s in the eyes. “On your head.” He said flatly.

Kirk sputtered. “What?”

“I said…”

Kirk interrupted. “I heard what you said,” he said to the Vulcan. “I just thought I didn’t hear right.” He looked at his pubic hair, then looked at Spock’s. Spock was dark where he was light. And after all the swimming and the sun, he noticed the blond hair on his arms, legsand even his pubic hair were noticeably lighter. He ran a hand throught his hair. He could only imagine how much more sun-streaked his head hair must be, and he even had a light tan. He started laughing, suddenly aware of the hilariously funny picture he was presenting to Spock when he was calmly and scrupulously examining his own body hair.

“What is so amusing?” Spock inquired.

“I…” Kirk started, giggling. “...you. This whole conversation. How did we get started on the subject of hair?” Kirk said, sniggering.

Spock controlled himself from exhaling a frustrated sigh. “You started it, Jim,” he said, as if explaining to a child. “By pulling my ... chest-hair.”

“Huh! Yes, well, don’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Tell…whom…what, Jim?” Spock was now confused.

“My hair!” Kirk said. “Spock, are you doing this, deliberately?” Kirk asked, suspicious the Vulcan was teasing him. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose. “Jim, are we still having the same conversation?” Spock said. “I do not understand. Whom … what exactly would I tell?”

“Stop!” Now I know you are deliberately teasing me!”

“Certainly not!” Spock exclaimed. “I do—did not…” He was interrupted again.

“Okay, okay,” Kirk said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Have it your way.” He added, then leaned in to kiss Spock.

The Vulcan withdrew from the kiss, and Kirk, surprised, let the Vulcan pull away from him. He looked at Spock puzzled. I’m not laughing, so where is this lighthearted feeling coming… Tentatively he placed his hand at the side of Spock’s face, and as soon as he felt it, it was shut off. No, I was shut out.

“Spock…” Kirk stammered, then quickly collected his thoughts and didn’t berate the Vulcan for shutting him out, but changed it back to humor. “...you were … laughing!”

“Vulcans do not … laugh,” Spock said stoically. A subtle wrinkling at the corners of his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“Why, you … you pointed-ear … Vulcan!” Kirk sputtered, totally enamored with Spock’s participation in this totally illogical—fun, conversation. “You’re teasing me!”

“The pon'farr is overriding my logic,” Spock stated. “Now, you must assure me that you will not mention these unavoidable lapses, Jim.”

“Hmm…” Kirk started, wanting to get back at Spock for teasing him. “...I have to  think about that.” The Vulcan’s eyebrow rose, and Kirk backed away slowly out of the tent, smirking, continuing their playfulness.

Spock followed him outside and Kirk turned, and ran. But the Vulcan was faster and quickly caught him. They tumbled in the sand with the Vulcan landing on top of him, knocking the breath out of him. He squirmed, trying to move away from underneath Spock, but he was held by Vulcan strength, he went limp and started laughing.

“Okay, okay! I promise,” Kirk said, but even when Spock released him, he lay there trying to catch his breath between his laughter from their antics.

Spock waited until Jim’s laughter dissipated, then looked over at the human and sat up armed. “Are you hurt?”

“No! What gave you that idea?” Kirk said, sitting up also, breathing deeply.

“You are … tears. Why?” Spock questioned, frowning.

“Oh, that!” He smiled at the Vulcan. “I was laughing so hard, it brought tears to my eyes,” he said. “Humans can laugh and cry at the same  time, when they’re happy. Didn’t you know that?”

“No,” Spock said. “I was not aware of that fact. Are you…” He didn’t finish questioning Jim, instead he brushed away the tears, the happiness the human felt transmitting through the touch of his fingertips to his heart, like an electric charge.

Kirk reluctantly pulled away from the link flaring between them once again. I don’t want to get used to it. It will be over soon. “We should eat,” he said, standing up.

“Yes,” Spock said, following Jim.

“Fruit again,” Kirk said, wrinkling his nose. “I’m tired of eating these, and I bet they’re fattening,” he joked. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice steak and … oh! Sorry, Spock.” He cast an apologetic glance at his First Officer.

“It is quite all right, Jim. I understand the human need for it. We should be content that we found something edible.”

“Yes,” Kirk answered, nodding. “Especially with all my allergies. Bone’s wouldn’t let me eat steak often anyway.” He shrugged. “Never mind, I think I'll shut up now.” He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why don’t you ever tell me to shut up, Spock? You know you can, and I know you want to.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps I shall consider it, Ca—Jim.” The human laughed.

They returned to the tent, carrying wood and the fruit. After starting a fire, they sat silently eating, and Kirk watched the flames, the heat warming him. When he noticed the Vulcan shift slightly, he knew Spock was getting uncomfortable. It was okay during the daytime without their clothes on, but as darkness came, so did the cold. 

Kirk deliberately yawned loudly. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess, I’m sleepy. I think I’ll turn in. Are you coming?” He asked, turning to face the Vulcan.

“Yes,” Spock answered, following Jim into the tent.

Sometime early in the morning Kirk woke up as strong hands pulled him against a hard body. He pushed back against the hardness pulsing against him. “Spock?” He tried to  turn around, but Spock’s hold tightened and he heard the Vulcan moan. He gasped when Spock, with a sudden, hard driving thrust, pierced him. Spock never answered him and the link was closed. The Vulcan was shielding.

They lay panting for a few minutes before Spock moved away from him. Kirk cleared his throat and asked quietly. “How long…” He felt the Vulcan’s gaze on him, as he continued. “...how long does it last?”

“For a period of three to seven days.” Spock answered.

“What about … after it’s over?” Kirk questioned shakily.

“I am not positive about my reactions … will be,” Spock whispered. “I have not … I did not expect to go through the blood fever so soon. Also, I did not anticipate doing so with … a male.”

“Well, since you were in a relationship before all this, with … a female, I presume you’ll want…” Kirk stopped. Spock doesn’t want a male partner and most certainly would never have considered me. We were barely friends before this. Stop, JT. He's not for you. You may have fallen in love, but he hasn’t. Let it go.

Spock watched the human—shields temporarily in place—not interfering with Jim’s thought process. He was confused with the emotions raging through him. When he noticed Jim’s wry smile, something within him unsettled. Jim had arrived at his own conclusions, but the human did not share them and avoiding eye contact with him, stood up. Spock acknowledged to himself he would have to ‘deal’ with this situation alone. I wish my mother was still alive .

“I’m going for a swim,” Kirk said, softly. He wanted some distance from the Vulcan. To lick his wounds, so to speak, alone. I always end up alone. Maybe when they got back to the ship he might cry on Bones’s shoulder, but for now he was managing to hold himself together. He walked away and slowly made his way to the lake.

Kirk was done swimming and spotted Spock coming towards him. He stood admiring the approaching figure. Tall and wiry, the pale coloring of his skin contrasting sharply with his shiny cap of black hair, the curly mat on his chest and further down between his legs.

Unselfconscious about his nudity and aware of Jim’s appraisal of him, he stopped in front of the human. “I found these,” he said, extending his hand to Kirk. “It’s a fungus growing on some of the trees on the other side of the lake. Non-poisonous; we could use them as a variation of our diet.”

“Great,” Kirk said, examining it. “Hey, do we have any wire?”

“We could look in the packs,”Spock said, following Kirk, curious.

Walking back, Kirk stopped at the pile of wood for the fire, selected a slim branch, testing its flexibility, then joined Spock in the tent. The Vulcan was already searching for what he had asked for. They searched for a while but were unable to find any wire. He looked around the tent and his gaze spotted the scanner and he quickly unhooked its strap.

“This will do,” Kirk said, securing the strap to his branch and unbending the end. “A perfect hook.”

“Hook?” Spock questioned.

“Yes,” Kirk said, smiling at the Vulcan. “I’m going fishing.” Then laughed at Spock’s mixed look of surprise and distaste. Mumbling about finding a good spot at the lake, he left the Vulcan in the tent.

Disappointed for not being able to catch anything for a while, Kirk was thinking about quitting. Between the increasing heat—even though he was up to his thighs in the cool water—and no bait on his line, it seemed a lost cause in catching anything. Just then, he felt a tag on his makeshift pole and pulled energetically, until the ‘fish’ was dangling in front of him.

Large, round eyes were looking at him, a small mouth opening and closing, frantically trying to draw in the unfamiliar air; twisting and turning, flopping in its bid for freedom, from whatever was holding it. Kirk looked at the round ball, covered with stout spines covering its brownish body, hanging on his line, his gaze returning to its eyes. They seemed to be looking straight at him. With a pang of remorse, he put the fish back into the water, and tried to hold it still so he could unhook it.

His hands were bleeding from the scratches and pricks of its sharp spines. But when he managed to free it, it just lay there, unmoving. Hoping it wasn’t too late, he gave it a small push and the ‘fish’ suddenly deflated and it seemed to give it the necessary propulsion it needed to move away from him. He heard splashing behind him and he turned, hastily hiding his hands behind him, facing the Vulcan coming towards him.

“Spock,” Kirk chided gently. “You scared the fish away.” 

“I apologize,” Spock said. “Jim, your … equipment is floating away.” He caught the makeshift pole, intent on giving it back to the human.

“Forget it! I wasn't catching anything, anyway,” Kirk said,  but reached to take the fishing pole from the Vulcan. “Thanks,” he said, smiling.

“We should return to the tent and tend to … your hands,” Spock said, looking at Kirk’s hands.”I … noticed you released it.”

“Um, well, it didn’t look very tasty,” Kirk said, feeling a flush rising to his cheeks.

“Yes, of course, Jim,” Spock said, eyebrows raised, before he turned away heading for the tent.

“I can’t fool you, can I, Spock?” Kirk said, when he caught up with the Vulcan.

“No, not always,” Spock turned to look at the human. “I … felt your pain.” He admitted softly.

“What?” Kirk said, stunned. I thought he was shielding! “Um … I keep forgetting about that. You said you would teach me to shield.” Kirk said. “How about this afternoon?” He asked, worried about the time after Spock’s cycle was over. I don’t want Spock to feel … I have to hide my feelings and thoughts until we figure out how to deal with this link between us.

“Why?” Spock questioned. “My shields will be sufficient after…”

“Spock,” Kirk interrupted. “Yes, but … well, there’re lots of reasons. For instance what happened with the fish,” he said, facing the Vulcan. “Every time something happens to me—right now, with your shields fluctuating—even something minor like this, you feel it.” Kirk tried to explain. “Listen Spock, in any kind of relationship—it’s not always perfect—there’re small nuisances you hide from one another, not everything has to be shared.” He hoped he was making himself understood. Not that I know about relationships, but I had hoped this was one that … shit! I have to stop this.

“I … will attempt to teach you, Jim.”

“Thank you.”

After Spock applied antiseptic to Jim’s hands, they sat facing each other and Spock guided the human on the placement of his fingers on the meld points, and taught Jim on how to shield his thoughts. It was a laborious ordeal for both. Their thoughts, blending.

I wanted you, but you went fishing./ Yeah, but you knew where I was, you could have come and got me or called…/I did come, but your actions distracted me. I am pleased you released it./ Yes, me too. I… Blankness interrupted them for a second. …what happened?/I think you spend too much  time in the sun, Jim. Foolis…/ Laughter flowed through them. Go ahead, Spock. You can say it, um, think it./ I understand why you wanted to learn how to shield… Pain and blackness interrupted them again, before Spock could follow the human’s next thought. Jim, you are in pain. I am going to withdraw and conduct a scan to discover if there is something seriously wrong. I have done all I can; I can not teach you this quickly, something Vulcans learn at the age of five./ Okay…

Spock opened his eyes, just in  time to catch the human as he slumped against him. Jim’s skin was hot and dry. He lay Kirk down carefully and the human moaned in pain.

“Spock, don’t … dizzy.”

“I am sorry, Jim,” Spock said, reaching for the water container and wetting a piece of cloth. “Lie still.”

“I won’t…” Kirk slurred. “...even if I wanted to.”

Spock placed the soaked uniform sleeve on the human’s hot forehead, then ran the scanner over Jim. Breathing, shallow. Blood … toxic… With a shaky hand he found the antitoxic hypo and pressed it into Jim’s neck and then replaced the cloth on the hot forehead, waiting for signs of improvement. I could ease Jim’s pain. 

He positioned his fingers and was instantly in the fiery haze of the human’s mind and pain raced through him. Controlling his reactions, he was able to dispel some of the surface layers of pain, but could not effectively use the healing meld. Jim was delirious and fighting the toxic elements in his body, consequently resisting his efforts and he was forced to delve deeper when some of the thoughts caught his attention.

Not now … nnngh …. not … uhhh … Spock … he needs, uhhh … I have to … Spock! Nnngh!/ Easy Jim, I am here./ Uhhh … he doesn’t … understand … uhhh … Spock I…/What Jim? What do I not understand?/Mmm … poor fish … I hope … uhh … it’s … I didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt … it, nnngh … Spock./I know, Jim. You did not./ Low moans escaped Kirk’s lips. Nnngh … I have to … go …Spock, hn…hnn … I … need…/I’m here, Jim./ 

Jim was unable to understand him. Going deeper into the human’s mind he succeeded in making his presence known. It seemed to calm Jim, who fell into uneasy sleep. Spock disengaged the meld and watched the human sleep. As evening progressed so did the fever, making the human sweat and shake. He talked to Jim soothingly, wiping the sweat off the human’s body. Whenever he moved away, Jim would moan restlessly, head thrashing from side to side and only his touch would quiet him.

“Spock…”

“I am here, Jim,” Spock said softly, touching the hot skin. Kirk gripped his wrist with surprising strength, but still did not heed him.

“...so hot,” Kirk moaned.

“No, Jim. Do not remove the blanket.” Spock implored the human, covering him up again, and holding it in place until Jim finally drifted off into sleep.

“Cold … Spock!” Kirk moaned restlessly. “I’m…I’m so cold.”

Spock placed his hand on the human’s forehead, it was cool, despite the sweat, and Jim was shivering. He covered Jim with another blanket, but it did not stop the human’s shivering.

“Spock, Spock … where are … you?”

“I am here, Jim,” he answered softly, bending closer, his fingers finding the meld points and making his presence known. Illogically hoping that the mental contact would reassure the human more than words. Would you like some water, before you sleep again?/ No…

“...no I don’t want … water,” Kirk slurred. “I want … I want you … Spock?”

Spock, relieved and surprised by Jim’s first coherent thought for a while, did not answer.

“You … still won’t accept … it,” Kirk muttered softly.

“What, Jim?” Spock asked, confused. Kirk was drifting again, and not making sence. “Jim, I did not accept, what?”

“Hold me…” Kirk begged, through chattering teeth, shivering deeply. “Please, hold me.”

Spock lay down, and Jim turned, clenching him tightly. As the shivering slowly abated, Kirk fell into undisturbed sleep. The night passed slowly for Spock, as he continued to monitor Jim, until the early hours of the morning. Only when completely satisfied that the human was out of the critical period, did he allow himself to sleep.

Kirk slowly opened his eyes, he wasn’t dizzy anymore, but every muscle on his body ached. He moved slowly, trying not to wake Spock, but the Vulcan set up and their gazes locked.

“You look … better this morning, Jim.”

“Yes. How about you?”

“I am well,” Spock said. “I am relieved you have recovered.”

“Yeah, well," Kirk said, shrugging. "How was I supposed to know, those—those brown balls were dangerous? A little fishing isn’t supposed to hurt so much.” He said, winching when he moved.

“Turn around and I will attempt to alleviate some of the soreness of your muscles,” Spock said, slowly massaging Jim’s aching muscles, slowly easing the tension in the human’s body. Jim’s small breathy sounds and contact with the golden body were arousing him. He slowly removed his hands.

“Spock,” Kirk whispered, panting.

“I can wait,” Spock said, shaking his head.

“But…”

“Jim,” Spock interrupted, standing up. “Come, let us go and get cleaned up.”

“Okay,” Kirk said, resignedly.

Kirk finished first and lay enjoying the warmth of the sun, before it became too hot later on. I will miss the quiet, lazy times when we return to the Enterprise. My ship. Strange how little I’ve thought about her, all these days we’ve been here. But then I had other … things to occupy my mind and time. Spock … He felt his lips curve into a smile, just the name alone, bringing memories and images—of times he could remember—laying in the Vulcan’s arms, the pleasure those strong hands were capable of, and he throbbed with desire.

He set up, his gaze focused on the figure standing in the shallows of the water. Their gazes locked as the Vulcan approached him slowly. His heart beat faster, as his eyes followed the beads of water traveling down Spock’s chest, coming to rest in the nest of dark pubic hair. His eyes lingered on the Vulcan’s long, hard and erect dick, still wet from his swim. His gaze remained on the jade-colored organ, until it was within reach of his willing lips. Kirk reached out and stroked Spock, the contact sending another thrill through him.

Spock slowly sank to his knees in front of the human, but made no other move. He tried to understand the man in front of him, by looking into the blue eyes that had a bright sparkle in them as they looked at him. The soft lips, capable of rousing such ardent desire in him, even now at the end of his time. How many times had they whispered of love, filling his mind. The well muscled shoulders. The strong arms that held him so possessively, yet released him at just the right time. The hands that had caressed him, creating such indescribable pleasure in him. The wide chest, a fitting place for Jim’s heart. So many poets and lyricists have—and still continue to do so—write of the mysteries and secrets of the human heart.

What is that word—heartbreak? One, or both of us, will know of it soon. Part of him rebelled against the truth and against the half which would accept it; to lose the one who was known to him and as close as no other had been—except maybe his mother—and may never be again.

Kirk had forgotten to keep track of the days; time had passed slowly, yet, not slowly enough for him. Now calculating the days of Spock’s pon-farr he arrived at … the end. He tried not to think about it, because he would be consumed by the pain and helpless anger.

They both reached for each other at the same moment and their lips met, and met again. Kirk gently pushed the Vulcan down on the warm sand, his hands slowly stroking. His tongue teasing first the nipples hiding in the soft mat of chest hair, downwards until his lips were wrapped around the hard, jade organ. Flicking his tongue over the sensitive head, slowly descending along its length, sucking hard. As he continued, he carefully turned and straddled the Vulcan, his own cock pressing against Spock’s lips.

Spock, surprised, almost did not respond. But when he opened his mouth, the thick shaft slid effortlessly in, throbbing deep in his throat, cutting off his breath. Before his hands could push the human away, Jim must have sensed his discomfort and withdrew. As he tried to adjust and regain his breath, Jim’s hand wrapped around the throbbing organ and began stroking it firmly. Hand and mouth were almost in rhythm. A moan vibrated through his lok and he felt the orgasms building in both of them.

The sun’s heat, together with their hot desires brought them both to an explosive climax. Drained and drenched in sweat, Kirk pulled away from the Vulcan and for a while they lay close together, unwilling to hasten what they both knew was inevitable. Once again Jim was the first to move. They stood looking at each other, and Kirk reached out to touch Spock but let his hand fall. The sun was setting, coloring the sky and everything around them a warm, golden-red. A beautiful end to a special time.

“A perfect way to end our time together,” Kirk whispered.

Spock had no words and even after the feather light touch of Jim’s lips on his—before the human turned away from him—he stood alone, Jim’s words repeating in his mind.

In the tent, the impact of the situation hitting him, brought Kirk to his knees. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if doing that would keep him from running back to Spock. He dressed slowly, breathing deeply, trying to ease the sharp current of sadness running through him. Spock! Their link had to stay closed, he recalled Spock’s instruction for shielding and after calming down some, was able to accomplish … something. Maybe this will be enough. If I can remember to keep it up when Spock is close. I guess I’ll deal with it. Yeah, JT … keep thinking that. Dressed, he walked out of the tent.

When Kirk returned, having collected fruit for their dinner, Spock was sitting by the fire. Emotions under control, face revealing nothing and fingers steepled, the Vulcan was staring at the flames. He noticed Spock had also dressed. Kirk placed the fruit between them and after sitting down, quietly started eating. After a few minutes, the Vulcan looked towards him and his heart skipped a beat at the intense stare.

What will we say to each other? Try to act as if nothing has happened between us? Kirk forced the depressing thoughts out of his mind, and gently smiled at the Vulcan. He noticed the subtle relaxing of Spock’s shoulders. Huh. He’s just as confused as I am. I hope he doesn't think I’ll make any demands of him.

“Were you … meditating, Spock?”

“Yes, Jim…Captain.”

“Jim is fine, Spock,” Kirk said, gently, widening his smile. But the smile quickly disappeared and he frowned when Spock tensed once again. He decided that it was better to clear up some things, before Spock created unbreachable walls between them.

“Spock,” Kirk started, speaking softly. “I know it’s over, and … I’ll try not to do anything that would embarrass you, either here or back on the Enterprise.” He looked at the Vulcan. Spock was listening, but when he didn’t say anything, Kirk continued. “Just remember two things. I will always be your friend … and if—if you ever change your mind … I still …” He stopped, unable to continue and the Vulcan didn’t need this right now.  He didn’t wait for Spock’s answer, needing to keep his emotional turmoil from overwhelming him again; he left.

Kirk woke up alone and from the relative coolness of the tent, he guessed it was early morning. Stretching lazily, he started to roll over and go back to sleep—even though, surprisingly, he had slept soundly the night before. A form of self-protection against thinking, huh, JT? I hope the Enterprise finds us soon… Suddenly Kirk was up and out of the tent, shouting for Spock. He found him. Just outside the tent he collided with the Vulcan, falling on the sand and landing on top of Spock.

“Spock,” Kirk started talking—too preoccupied to notice what had just happened—while getting back on his feet. “We’ve been here for ten days and not once have we used our communicators. What if the Enterprise was already in this sector and … they would have scanned and found us. Stupid thought, ignore that.” Suddenly he stopped his monologue, noticing Spock laying in the sand. “Spock? What are you doing … why are you looking at me like that?”

The Vulcan was looking up at the human. Jim caught him by surprise, as he came out of the tent, and he had been unable to prevent their fall onto the sand. He suppressed a sigh and started to sit up.

“Sorry, Spock,”  Kirk said, a red flush rising; he extended a hand, helping the Vulcan to his feet. “I was into much of a hurry to find you,” he said, looking sideways at the Vulcan and rubbing his neck. “I was wondering if you could fix one of the communicators to send a signal…um, are you all right?” Kirk asked, concerned at managing to knock Spock down.

“Yes,” Spock replied, bending to retrieve his fallen communicator.

“Good. As I was saying…”

“Captain—Jim,” Spock interrupted. “I have completed the necessary modification, while we were traveling. It is sending a continuous signal that communications should be able to distinguish when they scan this sector.”

“That’s great, Spock!” Kirk exclaimed. “Then all we have to do is wait for the Enterprise to find us.” He smiled at his First officer. “Well, carry on. I’m going for a swim.”

The water was still cool from the night before, and Kirk swam lazily, savoring it before the midday heat. When he rounded one of the lake's larger bends, he realized he’d swam further than any other time. The high bank obstructed his view—and him—from the campsite. Floating on his back, immersed in the quietness and solitude, he was startled when something brushed against him, and he lost his buoyancy.

He came up blowing water out of his mouth and sputtering. “What the hell…” He wiped the water from his eyes. “Spock!” He drew a deep breath, and managed a shaky laugh. “Shit, I didn’t know what touched me!”

“I apologize for alarming you, Captain,” Spock said quietly. “I was also unaware of your presence, until…”

“Yes, well,” Kirk broke in, interrupting the Vulcan’s apology. “Sorry, I yelled. Come on; I’ll race you back.” He said, smiling. He started swimming away without waiting for a response, or waiting to see if Spock was following.

Spock was first to reach the beach, and Kirk stood motionless as the Vulcan emerged from the water, the naked form glistening in the sun. Kirk felt a hot flush rising though him, suffusing his skin and settling in his groin. He ducked back into the water, allowing Spock time to dress and for his desire to cool down.

That evening, Kirk sat watching the stars–flickering points of light in the blackness above them. Somewhere out there was his ship, with over a thousand heartbeats on board. But down here, only two heartbeats sounded in the mighty stillness surrounding them. Why couldn’t we last forever? Another relationship leaving me heartbroken. Maybe you should just learn from this JT, forever isn’t meant for you. He had spent too much time wallowing and missed what Spock was talking about, when he finally tuned in to what was being said.

“...we could dissolve the link.”

Kirk sputtered. “But Spock, we can’t … I mean, I can’t,” he said, softly. “Your father … er … everyone will know.”

“I do not understand, Jim,” Spock said, eyebrow elevated.

“Um, I think I missed parts of what you said,” Kirk said, shaking his head. “You better tell me again how it’s going to be … done.”

“If both agree, a method does exist,” Spock stated. “If it proves difficult, then a healer may have to intervene in dissolving the bond—the link.”

Kirk let out a shaky breath and his hand shook as he ran it through his hair. “Oh! …I’m glad there is another way.”

“You sound greatly relieved, Jim,” Spock asked curiously. “What distressed you?”

Kirk looked at the perplexed Vulcan and chuckled softly. “Let’s just say, I’m very glad … there is another way.”

Spock felt both his eyebrows raise as he understood what the human was referring to. “You thought it would be … Kal-if-fee ?” He tried to hide his surprise that Jim was even aware of the ritual combat for dissolving a Vulcan bond, but ended up stammering over the word.

I think I just managed to shock Spock. “I’m sorry…” Kirk said softly. “...I must of heard or read about that … somewhere, and … well, can you blame me for thinking, I’d have to do that? I … wouldn’t…” he trailed off.

“I see,” Spock said thoughtfully. “No, I can not, since it is the only … method you are aware of.” he said, wondering where Jim had read about Vulcan rituals. “Also, you have not explained your earlier reference to my father.”

Kirk sighed, slightly exasperated with Vulcan memory. “Well,” he started. “How would you have … explained having a … link…” Kirk paused. I will not think … me or about … bonding. It’s only a … link, like he said. There is no bond for us. “...with a male human?” He looked over at Spock. “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t care; I know differently. Plus, it couldn’t be a common occurrence—on Earth, or somewhere else, yes—not on Vulcan.

Spock now understood; Jim knew him better than he thought. My reservation—my rejection—of this particular human, yes, it might be because he is male, but if I meditated on it further, it might stem from our first contact at the academy and consequent events. I thought I had passed that; after Khan and the following years together, we have achieved a measure of … friendship. Have we? Or have we achieved something more? I need to meditate further. 

I have called Jim, t’hy’la. The word echoed in his mind, resonating with a depth of emotion he had not felt since Nyota. Our separation has left a void—an absence of companionship, of shared experience. I had cared for her deeply, but it was not the same as this. This…this is different. Yet, considering Jim in this context brings a different kind of conflict within me. It is not simply about acknowledging emotions, nor is it about interspecies relationships—my father bonded with a human. Rather, it is about the implications of a romantic connection with another male in a society shaped by Surak’s teachings, especially now, after the destruction of Vulcan. 

Did the preservation of traditional Vulcan customs, including the potential acceptance of male bonds, outweigh my personal reservations? I recall historical records of such bonds existing long before Surak’s time. But do same-sex bonds still exist now, hidden beneath the surface of Vulcan society? Has Surak’s influence truly erased them, or are they merely concealed, waiting to be rediscovered? Perhaps embracing this connection with Jim could be a way to honor Vulcan’s ancient heritage.  

Spock-prime’s words came back to him: “ As you grow older, you will learn the things you have done here will have consequences. You will find a way to help them, to help him. I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together, of a friendship that will define you both in ways you cannot yet realize. There is room for both logic and emotion in life. Put aside logic. Do what feels right. Value and nurture that bond, young one.” 

But could I truly follow that advice? Could I reconcile my feelings for Jim with the societal norms I have always tried to adhere to? Deep down, a part of me yearns for that type of connection, the intimacy—the love—and understanding that Jim is offering. Yet, I still refuse to fully acknowledge what I might have with Jim, but perhaps that is what Jim meant when he was delirious, that I would not accept it. Perhaps he was right. But perhaps there is a possibility for us after all. 

“There is no need to explain,” Spock finally responded to the human. “My father would have understood. As for other Vulcans … opinions on personal matters are kept private.”

“Okay,” Kirk said. He had waited while the Vulcan had sat thinking and feeling sad that they both had to go through this, because Spock wouldn’t accept him. I offered my love, I shouldn’t expect Spock to feel the same, he has enough trouble with me trying to be his friend, much less my feelings. Me, more than most. I have too much baggage, who wants to live in my brain? Hell, I don't want to live in my brain!

“Then you are in agreement to dissolve the link?” Spock asked.

“Yes, of course, Spock,” Kirk said. “But, what if the Enterprise doesn’t find us soon?” he said, looking at the Vulcan. “Listen, if you agree, let’s wait … oh, about a week? If we aren’t rescued by then, we’ll dissolve it. We can always redo it …um, if necessary, as a … precautionary measure.” Kirk finished, trying to keep a tight rein on his emotions. What are you thinking, JT? A week is too long!

“Very well, Captain.”

“Okay, then I’ll say goodnight,” Kirk said, smiling. “And Spock, don’t stay out here too long, it’s getting cold.”

Spock woke when a soft moan—sounding loud in the quietness of the tent—came from the human close to him. Wondering if he should awaken Jim, he waited for several minutes for the human to resettle in sleep. Instead, the uneasiness increased and another moan sounded, then Jim was suddenly awake.

Kirk set up, still disoriented from his dream, took off his shirt and wiped the sweat off his brow. He peeked over at the slumbering Vulcan, he couldn’t see him clearly in the darkness of the tent. He almost called out his name, forgetting Spock was a light sleeper, and that surely would have woken him up. He lay down again, wishing he’d fall asleep quickly.

“Captain?”

His eyes snapped open and he tensed. “I thought you were asleep,” he said softly.

“I just awakened, is something wrong?”

Yes. Is it wrong that I still want you? Kirk sighed. “No, sorry if I woke you up,” he said, turning away from the Vulcan. “It was a little warm in here, it woke me up.”

“Shall I open the tent flap?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine now,” Kirk said, and settled further, hoping for sleep to come soon. “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

When Spock woke up in the morning, Jim had already left. He took the communicator and moved to sit outside. For a while he sat watching the human’s solitary figure, walking aimlessly near the lake. He had kept his shields raised, and the link was closed from Jim. 

Jim was being cheerful and smiling as before all this happened. But the human was being careful of his actions and words. Sitting close, but avoiding any contact. There were no accidental touches, as it sometimes happened on the ship—Jim tended to reach out and touch whenever he was excitedly talking. He knew Jim would remain his friend and deep down he knew the human’s love was there, hidden—unless he willed it otherwise. They would dissolve their link, and he would offer to wipe the human’s memories of what happened during his fever, but was aware that Jim would most likely refuse the offer.

Maybe not. If I took a leave of absence and returned to Vulcan, under the assumption of finding a bondmate, then Jim would understand that this will not happen again between us. If indeed that is what Jim is expecting. My emotions for Jim are confusing me; I fell as if I lost something. Illogical. Nothing is changed and nothing is to be gained by these thoughts. A soft sigh escaped from his lips; there was no one close to hear it.

Kirk passed by Spock, sitting and holding the communicator, he acknowledged the Vulcan with a nod and left him to his devices, before entering the tent. He tried to sleep. Several times he heard Spock trying to raise the Enterprise. Then the Vulcan’s voice slowly faded as he drifted off to sleep.

“This is Commander Spock, of the USS Enterprise. Is anyone receiving me?”

Chapter 3, Rescued

Uhura sat at her station, her face a mask of concentration. “Mr. Scott,” she started tentatively. “I’m picking up a very faint signal, but…” She adjusted her earpiece and listened more closely. “...it’s rapidly fading. Her long fingers were busy on her board, she finally sighed in frustration, “We’re moving away from it; it’s fading, sir.”

The engineer and acting Captain, sighed. He turned the command chair to face communications. Maybe it ain’t a false trail, this time. “Are ya sure, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir,” Uhura answered, still listening, her fingers busy trying to boost the signal. “I’ve been listening to it for a couple of minutes. It’s a continuous beeping, but we’re moving away from it and … I just lost it!”

“Mr. Sulu, tie in wi’ communications,” Scotty said, firing orders rapidly. “Mr. Chekov, see if ye can pin-point it frae Mr. Spock’s station. Scanners, maximum range! Keep aw’ channels open, lass.” Scotty stood up and started pacing. “When we get in range we’ll see if we get an answer, aye?”

A chorus of “Aye, sir.” sounded on the bridge. Everyone was a little more animated with hope that this wasn’t another false lead to their missing Captain and officers.

“I've got it, sir!” Chekov exclaimed. "Transferring coordinates to helm. It's coming from an uncharted system, sector 101709, sir!”

“Rite,” Scotty said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see if we got somethin’, eh?” 

“Course plotted and laid in, Mr. Scott,” Sulu said calmly, eyes shining as he looked over his shoulder at the acting Captain, then turned to face the viewscreen.

“Aye, Mr. Sulu, let’s be goin’ warp factor two.”

“Aye, sir. Warp two.”

Com. Scott stopped his pacing and looked out the viewscreen at the stars passing like little darts of light as they headed towards the uncharted sector. It could be the shuttle. And if we find them … dead? Naw, just blethrin’ again. Could be nowt, again. Ten days o’ followin’ any wee leads, that’s led us nowhere time and time again, filled wi’ frustration, long shifts, and aye, just hopin’ for somethin’! Starfleet’s gettin’ right impatient, and the Enterprise has other places tae be, so they say. If it was up tae me, we’d keep lookin’ till we found them, nae matter what. But some high-heidit Admiral’ll be  orderin’ us back tae a Starbase soon enough, and … replacements. Argh! I cannae stand this gnawin’ uncertainty!

Scotty’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Dr. McCoy. Huh! News travels fast! He saw the speculative, hopeful expression on the Doc’s face and sighed. Leonard’s anxious for news, for a safe return o’ the Captain and others. Thank the stars he came up to the bridge this time; I hate havin’ tae tell him it’s another wild goose chase. He shook his head at the doctor, silently telling him they still didn’t have anything. He turned towards Uhura, but she also gave a negative nod, having nothing to report.

An exclamation of surprise, had everyone turning towards Uhura—her fingers working their magic on the communications board— expectantly waiting for her next words as she turned towards Scotty, smiling broadly.

“Mr. Scott, I have…” she started.

“Put them through, lass,” Scotty said, interrupting impatiently. “Chekov, get a fix on the signal, lad, quick!”

“...Mr. Spock,” Uhura said, smiling and not minding being interrupted, her voice filled with happy excitement. “Receiving you loud and clear, Spock.”

“Done! Mr. Scott,” Chekov replied, bouncing with excitement in his seat, sharing a smile with Sulu beside him.

“Scotty here, Mr. Spock,” the engineer said, smiling at Leonard beside him, who was barely able to contain his own excitement.

“Mr. Scott, what is your arrival time?”

“22 minutes, sir,” Chekov answered.

“We’ll be…”

“I heard, Mr. Scott,” Spock’s voice sounded very clear from the comm. “I shall inform the Captain.”

“Mr. Spock, is—is everyone all right?” Scotty asked. Not only he, but everyone was waiting to hear the Vulcan’s answer.

“The Captain and I are the only survivors. Lt. Sanders died on our first day here,” Spock replied.

McCoy couldn’t stand silent any longer. “Why isn’t the Captain signaling? Where is he?” he questioned, anxious to find out if the kid was okay.

“The Captain is presently indisposed, Doctor,” Spock answered. “We shall await your arrival, Mr. Scott. Spock…”

“Not so fast, you … Spock,” McCoy interrupted, controlling his urge to yell at the Vulcan. “How is he … indisposed? Is he ill?”

“No, Doctor. He is in excellent health.”

“What about you?”

“Doctor ... I am perfectly healthy, Dr. McCoy.”

McCoy heard the slight lapse in the Vulcan’s voice, it was Spock’s ‘I am been patient” tone, and he smiled. “Good. Now, about Jim?”

A couple of seconds passed before Spock answered. “He is asleep,” he said flatly.

“Is that so?” McCoy said, smiling and bouncing on his heels, a wicked glimmer lighting his eyes as his smile widened. “Huh! Well, don’t wake him up.”

“Pardon?” Everyone on the bridge chuckled, as the surprise the Vulcan must have been experiencing communicated itself in that word.

“I said,” McCoy said louder, as if his words would be understood better that way. “Don’t wake him up, Spock. We’d like to surprise him when we arrive.”

There was no answer from the Vulcan, and McCoy, thinking Spock had closed the connection, asked. “Are you still there, Spock?”

“Yes, Doctor. I am waiting for further instructions.”

“Why you…” McCoy sputtered, but he was wasting his breath; the Vulcan had stopped transmitting.

“Contact was broken by Mr. Spock, Doctor,” Uhura said, chucking softly.

“Never mind,” McCoy said, rubbing his chin. “I hope that pointy…uh-hum, Spock doesn’t wake him. I hate to miss Jim’s expression when he sees us,” he said to Scotty.

“Aye, Leonard,” Scotty said, leaning closer with a grin. “He’d either be right chuffed to see us or he’ll gie us a proper dressing down.”

***

Spock was waiting for the landing party, when they materialized a few feet away from him. Dr. McCoy, Lt.Com. Scott, Lt. Uhura and Mr. Sulu and Chekov.

“You didn’t wake Jim, did you, Spock?” McCoy asked, running the scanner over the Vulcan.

Spock shook his head. “It would be more appropriate if you went inside alone, Doctor,” he said, eyebrow arching. “The Captain is not … properly attired to be seen by the bridge crew.”

While Sulu and Chekov blushed and giggled at the Vulcan’s words, he and Uhura smirked. “Right,” McCoy said. “I don’t blame him with this heat. You must feel right at home, Spock.”

McCoy entered the tent, his eyes adjusting to the dimness inside, and found the kid sleeping au natural. Smiling, he shook Kirk’s shoulder. “Jim, wake up.” But Kirk merely turned over, exposing his perfectly shaped butt to the doctor.

“Wake up, Captain,” McCoy said, louder.

“Go away, Spock,” Kirk mumbled.

“It isn’t Spock, Jim,” McCoy said, chuckling. “”Come on kid, wake up. It’s hot in here.”

It looked as if the Captain had no intention of following his orders, so McCoy did the next best thing; he brought his hand down on the exposed butt, and… “Spock!!!” Kirk thundered, as he turned to face his assailant, unaware he was heard by the rest of the landing party, waiting outside.

Kirk, wide awake, the retort he was going to deliver dying in his throat, as he saw who had awakened him. “Bones,” he whispered, at first, then with a broad smile, grabbed the smiling doctor, hugged him and yelled happily at his friend. “Bones! When—why didn’t Spock tell me?”

“Hello, to you too, kid,” McCoy said fondly, hugging Kirk tightly. “How are you, Jim?” He questioned, while running his scanner over Kirk. He turned it off. It’ll do, for a preliminary exam. Geez, I’m so happy we found you kid. “Come on, get dressed. You’re not exactly fit for company, the others are waiting outside.”

“It’s too hot…” Kirk said, sending an offended look at his friend and rubbing his injured butt-cheek, started dressing. “Damn it, Bones, did you have to smack me so hard?” But smiled anyway, and McCoy shrugged.

“Kaptain!” Chekov called out, spotting the Captain first, as Kirk and McCoy stepped out of the tent and everyone turned to look in their direction.

Kirk straightened up, folded his arms in front of his chest and regarded each face soberly. “Well, well. Look who dropped by, Spock,” he said, his lips slowly curving into a wide smile, then taking a step forward.

Immediately he was surrounded by everyone, talking to him at once. Uhura exclaimed about his bleached hair, Chekov bouncing and talking, Sulu saying how happy he was to see him; none of them giving him a chance to respond. He noticed Spock standing apart, looking at him as he received the warm welcome from his crew. When Bones moved to stand next to the Vulcan, Kirk flashed a smile in their direction and got an answering grin from the doctor, but only he knew the smile was directed at the dark eyes locked to his.

“Scotty,” he started, turning to face his smiling engineer. “Where have you been? And what’s been happening on my ship?”

“Well, noo, Captain,” Scotty said as he started on a happy tirade. “It took some doin’ tae find ye. Ah had Chekov glued tae the computer, the Lieutenant tae communications, she wis the first tae hear Mr. Spock’s signals. That damn ion storm caused havoc to ma puir engines. Mr. Sulu got us here withoot gettin’ lost … ma puir engines! Glad we found ye, lad, noo Ah can look efter them properly.”

McCoy and Spock joined the group and Kirk, frowned at his engineer. “Scotty!” he exclaimed. “You kept looking for us, just because you were worried about your engines?” He shook his head, sighing. “And I thought you missed me!”

Scotty finally found his voice and exclaimed indignantly. “Captain!” Everyone laughed, even Spock raised an eyebrow.

Spock handed Kirk his communicator and all of them took their places behind the Captain, as he signaled the ship. “This is Kirk. Seven to beam up, Enterprise.”

When they materialized on the Enterprise, Kirk remained standing at the transporter pad, letting the feel of his ship surround him once again. Fun is over; back to work, JT. He took a step down, heading towards McCoy waiting for him, when he noticed Spock was still standing next to him.

“No more sand, Spock,” he said softly.

Eyebrow arching, Spock murmured, “Indeed,” as he followed Jim and the doctor into the turbolift.

Before anyone else could say the level they were heading for, McCoy said. “Med-bay.” He turned to look at the other two occupants in the lift. Jim had sagged against the wall resigned to their direction, while the Vulcan stood straight, his face giving no clue as to how he felt about where they were heading. “So,” McCoy started, bouncing on his heels. “Which one of you two ... gentlemen, is going to be first for a checkup? On second thought, Jim you come along first and let me check if I caused any real injury to your…” he smirked at Kirk who started talking when he trailed off.

“Yes,” Kirk frowned at the doctor. “I’m sure you did. It still hurts.” He complained, rubbing his right butt-cheek. He hastily removed his hand, remembering that Spock was in the lift with them, and looked sideways at the Vulcan. But if Spock noticed anything he showed no indication of it.

McCoy drew Jim into one of the private rooms in med-bay, and they left the Vulcan to wait in the general area. When the door closed, he patted the kid’s shoulder, “Relax, Jim,” he said, checking the panel above the bed Jim lay on, as he started his scans. “Just making sure you haven’t brought any unwanted visitors on board.” After a couple of minutes of checking, he looked down at Kirk. “So, how did you two get along down there?” he asked, then turned his attention to the visuals of Jim's body and checking readings.

“Fine,” Kirk said, his heart hammering, worried about Bones’s scans and what they may reveal. Shit, Bones will know pretty soon. “Don’t I always get along fine with everyone?” He joked nervously.

“Oh, yeah, well, Spock always got along better with you, I wouldn’t have lasted a day—much less, ten—alone with him.” McCoy said, chucking.

Kirk laughed. McCoy and Spock have an odd relationship—friendship. They respect each other for their individual abilities, but Bones likes to goad Spock, drawing him into bantering, until someone—mainly me—has to put a stop to it.

“Hm…” Bones said, absentmindedly, while he sent info for analysis. “There is still some residual evidence of toxemia … how did that happen?”

“One of the local fish didn't like the idea of being my lunch.” Kirk quipped.

McCoy didn’t pay too much attention to Jim’s humorous answer; instead he was frowning at the readings he was looking at, as he swiped on the screen. Shit, kid. What the hell happened down there? Extensive sexual activity, no lasting damage, but… Spock and Jim? He kept his face impassive, turning his attention to the readings.

“Jim,” McCoy started, then stopped, clearing his throat. “Jim, is there—do you have something you want to tell me?” he asked, softly gazing at Kirk, laying there blushing. “You know I’ll always listen.”

Kirk looked up at the concerned face of his friend. “Yeah, I know, Bones,” he said, feeling the heat on his face increasing. “But … not yet, okay?” Grateful Bones was not pressing him for details right now, not with Spock outside the room and may hear them. “Are we done?”

“Yeah, kid. Since you’re so anxious to get back to the pressures of being a starship captain, you can go.”

Kirk was ready, already stepping out the door. “Later, Bones. Mr. Spock,” he nodded at the waiting Vulcan and, without looking directly at him, left med-bay.

McCoy stood thinking for a minute, sighed, then waived for the Vulcan to enter the room. “Mr. Spock, your turn.”

Spock lay down and started thinking how to thwart any questions the doctor may ask him. Has Jim said anything? Should I? No, definitely not. If the Captain has not mentioned anything, it is not my intention to reveal anything. But Dr. McCoy can not be deceived; by now he is aware of what has passed between Jim and I.

“This will take only a few minutes,” McCoy said, when the Vulcan was ready, he started running his scans and refrained from making any of his usual comments of Vulcan physiology—his term, “crazy readings’. The almost non-existent blood pressure, the fast heartbeat, the green blood… McCoy sighed.

“You’re fine also,” he said, not looking at the Vulcan. “Just some residual chemical imbalance… You should…” He cleared his throat and fiddled with his scanner. “You should monitor your vitals, might have been because of … your diet down there. Make sure you return to your regular eating habits, and if there are any problems let me know.” He shut down his equipment and turned to put his instruments away. “You can go.”

When Spock turned to leave, the doctor called out to him and he paused before the door opened, waiting to hear what McCoy wanted to say. “Like I told Jim, anytime he wants to talk, I’m willing to listen. The same goes for you too.” Spock’s eyebrow rose and had the doctor was looking he may have seen the surprise reflected on his face, that he quickly masked as he walked out the door, and it closed behind him with a soft hiss.

Spock had left without saying anything. McCoy turned only when he heard the soft swish of the medbay doors opening and closing. I didn't expected the damn Vulcan to volunteer any anything. He probably knows I’m aware of what happened during their little adventure. I wonder how he's handling it. The signs were all there—the lingering effects of pon’farr, not the dietary imbalance I told him I thought it was. He doesn’t need to confirm it for me. I just hope the kid’s going to be okay. This whole thing could mess him up pretty bad. 

After the heartfelt welcomes and gatherings by the crew, examinations, the sad duty of committing the body of a fellow crewman into space were over, Kirk immersed himself in catching up. He checked logs, from Scotty and other departments, reports and communications to and from Starfleet; routine helped to keep Kirk’s thoughts occupied. But it wasn’t easy. Remaining in orbit around that planet, its image filling the viewscreen, had him hiding in his ready room—when not on the bridge—to fulfill his duties. Yet, it didn’t make forgetting those ten days with Spock, any easier. He found himself staring out of the viewport, the planet a constant reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Science teams constantly worked on gathering information, cataloging, analyzing. Spock was busy reviewing the information as it was inputted into the ship’s computer. That was a small mercy for Kirk, not to have regular contact with the Vulcan. They stayed in orbit for almost a day. Before leaving, Kirk met with the different department heads, and Spock summed the information that had been gathered.

“X47249, provided no evidence of ever having sustained sentient life. The scarcity of vegetation, the absence of discernible fauna, and the pervasive erosion suggest a diminished capacity to sustain life. Atmospheric analysis indicates minimal moisture content, further compounding the aridity. Surface temperature fluctuates drastically, reaching highs between 100° and115° during daylight hours, while plummeting to lows between 30° and 45° at night. The planet appears to be in a state of advanced ecological decline, consistent with a late-stage geological phase.” 

Spock noticed Kirk started to say something and paused his summation, but when he got a negative nod from the Captain, he continued. “There is however a small thriving ecosystem of small herbivorous and aquatic animals, of which only one is more plentiful than any other. Analysis of the aquatic specimen reveals morphological similarities to the Terran family Tetraodontidae. However, comparative toxicological analysis indicates the specimen’s neurotoxin potency ranges from 0.10 to 0.30 times that of its Terran counterpart.  Essentially, X47249 in a few centuries, is likely to be completely uninhabitable.”

“So, we have a big, empty planet, full of sand,” Kirk said, hiding his smile when Spock’s eyebrow rose. “And it should remain—empty—because it wouldn’t be worth the effort to monopolize or colonize.” Kirk said, giving his own summation, and he smiled when some of his department heads smirked or right out laughed.

Spock, eyebrow arched, nodded his acceptance of the Captain’s oversimplification of facts and conclusion.

“Very well, thank you all. Dismissed,” Kirk said, rising from his chair, concluding their meeting. “File your reports, and let Starfleet figure out what to do with X…”

“X47349,” Spock supplied, as he picked up his PADD, and stood to follow the other officers out of the room.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock.”

“How about dinner, Jim?” McCoy asked, still sitting in his place, while everyone collected their PADD’s and slowly cleared the briefing room.

“Sure, Bones. Spock?” Kirk called out before the Vulcan left. “Would you remain for a moment, please?”

Spock turned to face Jim. “Yes, Captain.”

“I’ll only take a minute of your time…”

“Shall I leave Jim?” McCoy asked, standing up. “I could meet you…” But Jim motioned him to stay.

“Nah,” Kirk said. “Spock, I have a request,” he started, and Spock’s eyebrow rose in question. “I would like to name this X—whatever, as Tetra.” He finished, looking at the palms of his hands, a small sad smile curving his lips.

“Yes, Captain,” Spock said, noticing Jim looking at his hands and he was reminded of the feelings he had when the human almost died from the toxin from going … fishing.

“Why Tetra, Jim?” McCoy asked.

“The Captain's choice of 'Tetra' references the Terran 'fish' Tetraodontidae, Doctor,” Spock explained.

“I liked the fish, Bones,” Kirk said, chuckling. “Anyway, it’s better than all those numbers. Thanks, Spock. Care to join us for dinner?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“Thank you, Captain, but I must finish my reports and make the name change before transmission to Starfleet.”

“Okay, see you at the bridge tomorrow. Goodnight,” he said, and gathering the doctor exited the room.

Kirk sat in his command chair, watching the quiet efficiency of his bridge crew. They had left Tetra; after spending a week exploring the rest of the system, it was all now behind them, and they were now on routine patrol, for the time being. At least that’s over with. I don’t want to hear or see that system again. Shift is almost over; maybe Spock and I can get our loose end over with, tonight. I’m tired of avoiding Spock and trying to remember the damn shield. I wonder how much it works anyway on my part. I think Spock is doing most of the shielding and he must be tired of it. And if I accidentally touch him, what then? He turned his chair slightly, looking towards Spock, who was busy checking something at his station.

“Captain, sensors are picking up a vessel, approaching at sub-light speed,” Spock said, as he turned to face Jim. “It’s a Federation starship.” He added, eyebrows arching.

“None are supposed to be…” Kirk didn’t finish expressing his puzzlement, as Uhura turned towards him and Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott stepped onto the bridge.

“USS Ledesma, is hailing us, Captain,” Uhura said.

“Bob?” Kirk said, surprised, nodding in greeting at Bones and Scotty as they approached. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“I have Captain Tetley, sir,” She said and the figure of a slim, dark haired man filled the screen.

Tetley did not wait for conventionality and got straight to the point. “J.T. Kirk, where the hell have you been?” he said, his tone impling anger.

“Bob…” Kirk tried to interrupt.

“You knew last week was the only time in months that both our ships would be on base 9!” he frowned at Kirk and almost pouted. “I was waiting for you, and where the hell did you go for R&R, huh? Crashed on some damn planet, and…”

“Hey!” Kirk yelled. “If you just take a breath and listen,” he huffed. “I didn’t do it on purpose, you spoiled…” he stopped, knowing that even though his crew acted like they were busy, they were all listening and a couple were hiding their smiles. He smiled sweetly at the Tetley. “Did you miss me, Bob?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low suggestive purr. “Because I’ve been thinking about you.” He was flirting openly but didn’t care.

“...was on my way to my sector … huh?” Tetley was still talking, but looking at the smiling Kirk, he stopped, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, you overgrown, kid, I missed you,” he admitted, then quickly cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “You are the only starship Captain I know that has the longest vacations.”

Kirk was trying not to laugh. Well, routine patrol is a boring job, might as well give everyone a bit of fun. “Well, I missed you too.”

“Well, how was it?”

“How was what?” Kirk asked innocently.

“Blast it, man,” Tetley said, waiving his arm. “We only heard you were lost, then found. What happened in between? Who was with you?”

“My, my! Aren’t you … nosey? What’s the matter, Bob, didn’t you have any fun without me?” Kirk smiled, a slow, seductive curve of his lips.

“If you have nothing to hide, you’d spill it,” Bob said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Or, do you … want to continue this conversation … privately, JT?” He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes locking with Kirk’s. “Alone?”

Kirk heard a couple of giggles coming from the Ledesma and from his bridge too. “For crying out loud, it was just a desert planet, Bob. Spock and I were the only lifeforms there, and we had the whole damn thing to ourselves.”

“I don’t believe you,” Tetley said.

“Why…” Kirk stopped and turned to Spock, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Mr. Spock, would you be so kind as to join me down here? I need your … assistance with a small matter.” He waited for the Vulcan to approach. “Let me introduce you to someone, whose curiosity just about matches yours. Bob, this is my First Officer, Mr. Spock. And that curious cat, there, Spock, is Captain Robert J. Tetley. An old friend from the academy. Who won’t be a friend anymore after this.” Kirk said, pouting. He waited for the greetings to be exchanged and was about to speak but got no further than opening his mouth.

“Well, Mr. Spock, is he telling the truth?” Tetley asked, leaning forward, impatiently waiting for the Vulcan’s answer.

“No, sir,” Spock said, his voice a touch flatter than usual, his gaze fixed on Tetley but his mind preoccupied with the playful exchange between the two captains.

“What?” Kirk and Tetley said in unison, while everyone on the bridge turned to look at Spock with surprise. Sulu gasped, and Chekov choked back a laugh. Even Uhara’s composure seemed to falter for a moment. On the Ledesma's bridge, similar sounds of surprise and amusement echoed. McCoy, however, simply shook his head and muttered, “Spock, you never cease to amaze me.”

“I knew it! I knew it!” Captain Tetley said, grinning wildly.

“Spock!” Kirk said, in a strangled voice, shooting his First Officer a look of mock annoyance.

“May I point out, Captain, when we crashed on X47349, we were not the only lifeforms on the planet. There were numerous animal and aquatic lifeforms also. Your statement about lifeforms was incorrect, Captain. You should have clarified that we were the only humanoids there.”

“Humanoids, not … lifeforms,” Kirk said, trying to keep a straight face and not break out laughing, as Spock’s statement had effectively shut Bob’s mouth and at the incredulous look the other Captain was giving his First Officer. “Yes, I’ll remember that, Mr. Spock, should I find myself in a similar situation.” Everyone around him was also trying not to laugh, and no one was looking at Mr. Spock.

“Will that be all, Captain?” Spock asked, looking nonplussed with all that was occurring around him.

Kirk cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock,” he said, turning to face his friend.

“Now … Robert,” Kirk said, emphasizing Tetley’s full name, who still had not said a word during the exchange between him and Spock. “If there is anything else you want to know, we can ask Mr. Spock again. By the way, how was your … R&R? Is there something I should know or should I ask someone … on second thought, you better not tell me, not on an open comm, anyway.” But his question had loosened Tetley’s tongue once again.

“Well now, since nothing is happening at the moment, I’ll beam over in … five,” he said with a wink, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Wait until I tell you about the new place that opened on base 9. It has…”

“Bob!” Kirk interrupted hastily. “You can tell me in five minutes!”

“Right. Ledesma out.”

Kirk groaned and slumped in his chair. “You better come along, Bones, and bring your hangover remedy. One of us is going to need it; bring the headache pills for me.”

A snort of amusement sounded next to him and he looked at Bones who was grinning and Scotty was covering his laughter behind a hand. Kirk was gritting his teeth, his jaw muscles jerked, and he finally couldn’t hold it anymore. His laughter erupted, filling the bridge, everyone startled, and turned to look at him, even Spock.

“Take it easy, Jim,” McCoy said, watching the kid turn red from laughter and holding his stomach. “You’ll choke yourself. What was so funny anyway?” he asked Kirk, curious at the sudden laughter.

Kirk was doubled over, still laughing. He was pointing to Spock and the only audible words between his laughter were: ‘Humanoids and lifeforms’. He finally managed to control his laughter. “I don’t know how he does it, Bones,” he said, wiping his tears of laughter. “I haven’t laughed so hard since…” He stopped, his laughter died as he remembered. Spock had been chasing him, asking him not to reveal his lapse of logic.

“Well, carry on,” he said, controlling his expression. “Mr. Spock, ah, no, you’re off duty as of a minute ago. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Scotty, want to join us for a drink?”

“Thank ye, Captain,” Scotty answered, beaming at Kirk.

Kirk, flanked by Scotty and Bones, started for the lift, but turned to face the Vulcan. “Mr. Spock, will you join us?”

“Thank you, Captain, but I have things to attend to.”

“Well, you can do those later, Spock,” McCoy said.

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, smiling at his First Officer. “And I may need your help again. You are the only one that has effectively shut Robert’s mouth for more than two seconds.”

“Very well, Captain,” Spock said, joining the humans.

“Great!” Kirk said, as the Vulcan joined them. They rode the turbolift in silence. When they reached the transporter room, Captain Tetley was just beaming aboard.

“Robert, you met my First officer; this is Lt. Com. McCoy, our Chief medical officer, and my chief engineer, Lt. Com. Scott.” He said smiling at his quest and waited until handshakes were exchanged, before waiving everyone out. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

In the Captain's cabin Spock stood, slightly to the right of Jim, watching the humans interacting—sipping the tea Jim had handed him, instead of the alcoholic beverage he had served everyone else—his attention on the conversation between the two Captains.

“Yeah, I invited my officers, because somehow, you always manage to get me in trouble or into activities I don’t want to get into.” Kirk said, looking at his friend with a frown. “Not this time, buddy.”

“Why, JT Kirk! I’ve done no such thing,” Tetley answered, smiling innocently. “Just name one time, I did that.” He challenged.

“Let’s start at the Academy, and that party…”

“Okay, okay,” Tetley said hastily, clamping a hand over Kirk’s mouth, stopping him from spilling that embarrassing moment, and had everyone laughing. “Forget I asked. Tell me, how was it down there with only Mr. Spock for company, what did you do for all that time?”

Spock noticed Jim’s hand tight grip around his glass, until he thought it would break. But apparently Kirk realized it quickly and his hand relaxed and when he looked at Captain Tetley his face held nothing but amusement.

“Bob, contrary to everyone’s beliefs, Vulcans are good company,” Kirk said, flicking his gaze to his stoic First Officer, before looking back at Tetley.  “Plus, Mr. Spock has been around humans long enough to know our little … idiosyncrasies.” he chuckled, and everyone joined in the laughter. “There were lots of things to do too.”

“Like what?” Tetley asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Lets see, while Mr. Spock kept busy analyzing and recording whatever he found, I had time to swim, do some fishing, and relax. And Spock and I had some … interesting discussions.” Kirk added, keeping the smile on his face. “Perfect place for R&R. Although it was too hot for me, it was perfect for Mr. Spock. I did work on my tan,” he added as an afterthought.

Tetley leaned close and whispered. “Is it … an all over tan, then?” He chuckled at Kirk blushing.

Kirk felt the flush on his cheeks, but he laughed and even though everyone could hear them he answered. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased. “Like I said, a perfect place to relax. And no trouble! If I had been with you, I’d probably end up in the brig again, and Bones would have had to bail us out, like before.”

“Oh, come on JT, can’t you forget that?” Tetley whined, while everyone else laughed and Spock eyebrows rose. “It was only one time!”

“Yeah, but if that happened on Starbase 9, can you imagine what everyone would say about two Captains in the brig?” Kirk said, leaning close to Tetley, laughing softly.

Tetley shuddered. “Don’t even mention the word brig again, Kirk.” He admonished his friend.

“Yeah, see?” Kirk said after taking a sip of his drink. “I don’t need you for trouble to find me.” He chuckled. “Damn, Bob, you always got me in trouble.”

Spock was following the conversation—even though he did not have all the facts—he was not too pleased with … the flirting between Jim and Tetley.

“I think I've just been insulted,” Tetley said, looking thoughtful.

Spock thought that also, but from the smiling faces around him, it would appear it was not so. Humans and their complicated friendships.

“You think?” Kirk teased Tetley again. “Now, tell me what was so hot about your R&R?”

Spock tuned out their conversation, he had no interest in hearing about Captain Tetley’s latest conquest.

Kirk was only half-listening to Bob’s account of his down time on base 9. Thoughts and memories crowded and wrestled for priority in his mind. He let his gaze drift over his three officers, looking for a distraction. But when his gaze rested on the tall, stoic Vulcan a stab of pain went through him.

It was all a dream, yeah ... it didn’t really happen. My fantasies ran rampant and I gave my dream lover ... Spock’s face. There is no … love, no happiness that lasts from dreams. A touch of my imaginary lover could … no, no it couldn’t have inflamed me to the point of madness. There is no pain either, not from my dreams. He could almost feel it now, along with the pain; the desire, the passion in the hands that touched him. Everything else ceased to exist around him. Kirk, eyes glazed, was lost in his memories.

Spock, for some reason, was uncomfortable. He turned slightly, looking around. He frowned slightly in puzzlement, as his eyes met  the human’s unwavering gaze on him. Jim was totally unaware of his staring. He continued looking at Jim, increasingly apprehensive of what may have occurred and unconsciously lowered his shields slightly. He was immediately hit by the human’s emotional turmoil and, with  effort, controlled the gasp that rose in his throat and before he could raise his shields he was drawn into Jim’s mind.

Desire rose through him/them, the swift pressure settling in his/their genitals, became a throbbing pain. Arousal pulling him/them towards each other like a magnet. Jim! Spock was finding it hard to maintain his control; he felt the human’s sudden awareness. Spock!... He was able to raise his shields and Jim averted his panic-filled eyes away from Spock.

I thought he always had his shields up. Now what? Don’t panic JT. Shit, yeah, I’m panicking. Kirk turned his attention back to Tetley.

Spock looked at Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy talking. Neither gave any indication of noticing his and the Captain’s lapse; their conversation continued. Since no response was required of him, he continued to listen, his thoughts dwelling on his recent experience with Jim. For a short interval of time, I was one with Jim again, felt and responded to his desire. I must talk with Jim tonight. Spock turned his full attention to the conversations around him and caught Jim was looking at him, his eyes filled with fear, and shame, reflected on the handsome face. Jim opened his mouth, as if to speak, then abruptly reconsidered and looked away.

“Well,” Tetley said, finishing his drink and setting his glass down. “I have to get back to my ship. Glad you got back safely, JT and you too, Mr. Spock.”

“Amen to that,” McCoy whispered to Scotty, who winked, clinking his glass to the doctor’s, and they downed the remains of their drinks.

They separated outside the Captain’s cabin. Kirk escorted his friend to the transporter room, Scotty and McCoy left together, and Spock headed to his cabin.

Kirk walked down the corridors of his ship, unwilling to return to his quarters. He was restless. I don’t want to sleep, and I don’t feel like talking—especially with Spock. Not after what almost happened. How the hell did that happen? I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep whatever kind of shielding…The gym, I’ll go burn some of this off, then maybe I can think more clearly.

After a couple of hours working out, releasing some of his tension, he felt confident enough and headed to his quarters. But as he entered the shower, standing under the gentle spay, washing away the sweat from his body, the memory of Spock’s hands on him came to tease him. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting himself relive some of the moments of pleasure being in the Vulcan’s arms. His hand slid down to his hard dick, but withdrew it, refusing to allow himself release by using Spock as a visual.

When he was done, he sat at his desk and poured himself a drink. He sat holding the brandy shifter, watching the amber liquid swirling in the glass. We can’t continue…I can’t continue this way. I have been hiding my desire for days, and in a few seconds … How stupid of me to let myself go like that. We must get this link done and over with. Then, at least Spock won’t be aware of my feelings again. Shit, I thought he kept his damn shields up, what happened? He drained his glass swiftly and still brooding, dropped his towel and got in bed.

“Lights off,” Kirk instructed. He lay tossing and turning, but sleep eluded him. For a second he thought of talking to Bones, but quickly changed his mind. But even when he finally fell asleep, the persistent dream of Spock loving him, holding him, and him responding, played in his sleeping mind, waking him drenched in sweat and gasping.

He rushed out of the bed to his desk and hailed the Vulcan’s quarters. but Spock had it on message or emergency override only. He must be meditating. It’s not an emergency—except to me. We have to get this over with! He sighed, and left his message. “Mr. Spock, I would appreciate it, if you would come see me an hour before our shift tomorrow, thank you. Kirk out.” He switched the comm off and returned to his bed.

The door opened silently under his hand. He stepped quietly into the room, and the door closed just as silently behind him. His breath quickened as his gaze roamed over the restlessly sleeping human. 

Spock had just finished meditating; he heard the small blip of a message waiting at his comm. After listening to it, he lay on his bed, considering Jim’s message, and got up. After a few minutes of inputting code and receiving the results, he stepped out of his cabin and headed for Jim’s.

A soft moan from the bed drew him closer, and he sat at the edge of the bed. He let his shields drop and, with a trembling hand, brushed the human’s tousled hair away from a sweaty forehead. Jim moaned, his name whispered between the lush lips; Jim was dreaming of him.

Kirk woke up, but kept his eyes closed. He was having a wonderful dream, and he tried to recapture it. He felt Spock’s hand resting on his chest, before lips replaced the hand, teasing his nipples, as he arched his body demanding closer contact, a low moan escaped his lips.

“Spock…” he whispered.

“I am here, Jim.”

He felt the Vulcan’s lips covering his own, kissing him. He wanted to open his eyes, but he wanted to stay in the dream. He responded to the kiss. As his eyes snapped open ... he heard the Vulcan in his mind. Open your eyes, Jim. 

"Lights at 35%," Kirk instructed, as he sat up. “Spock? What…what are you doing?”

Spock’s expression was a study in contrasts, a delicate dance between his Vulcan control and the emotions that Jim stirred within him. His gaze was intense, his eyes fixed on Jim with an unwavering focus. “I thought that was obvious, ashayam, ” Spock replied softly. “Do you not wish me to be here?”

Kirk did not answer; he was still dazed—of this not being a dream. What do I say? Yes? No?

“My apologies,” Spock said, following Jim’s thoughts. The human was indecisive even in his thoughts. Maybe I made a mistake not talking to Jim first. He started to withdraw but strong arms pulled him back, and Jim was kissing him. Desire enfolding both once again.

Oh, Spock! I missed you—missed you. Are you sure you want to be here? …with me? I didn't want to hope … Spock…/Jim?/Yes, lover?/Shut up, t’hy’la.

Kirk drew back surprised. “What?” He stammered, verbalizing, forgetting about the link between them.

“I said, ‘shut up, t’hy’la ’, which means, lover.” 

Kirk’s pointed finger aimed at Spock, his mouth open to speak—the words ‘now listen here mister’—but Spock’s words left him gloriously speechless. We…we are lovers?/Yes/Okay. He nodded.

Spock, eyebrow arching, pulled slightly away from the human. The love filled blue eyes were looking at him in awe, and he allowed a small, restrained smile. “Are you more interested in conversation, if so, I suggest…”

Kirk stopped the Vulcan with a kiss. “No, now that you are here,” he breathed over Spock’s lips. "On my bed, this is where you’ll stay."

A hint of a smile played at the corners of Spock's lips, showing his private amusement and a profound affection for Jim’s playful nature. He was drawn by the intimacy of their exchange. His attention focused not only on Jim’s words/thoughts but the unspoken emotions between them, a silent blend of longing and desire. Spock slowly pushed Jim down. The sensuous, soft lips, a joy to kiss; his tongue deep into the human’s mouth, exploring its coolness. Jim’s moans were exiting him, his kiss deepened, becoming demanding.

Kirk’s hands pulled the Vulcan closer, rubbing against the clothed hardness above him. Clothes... Spock, get naked./Yes, Jim/Now, now … please…

Spock undressed under the human’s gaze, shining with desire. He was climbing back on the bed when Jim stopped him, and he arched an eyebrow in question.

“In the drawer, we need the bottle of lubricant,” Kirk said, motioning to the low table next to the bed. “I thought I’d never hold you like this again,” he said when the Vulcan settled on top of him again, his hands moving over the strong body. “Don’t leave me again, Spock. I…I won’t be … not a second time, please.”

Spock held Jim tightly, kissing the soft lips that parted under his, allowing entrance to his demanding tongue. I will not. We are telsu—bonded. And we will formally bond, soon. We will always be together, t'hy'la.

Too aroused, Spock knelt between Jim's thighs, spreading them wide, as his wet fingers found the entrance to the human’s body. The sensations transmitted through his sensitive fingers almost too much for him in preparing Jim. His slow penetration had them both moaning. The impatient human moved, and he was embedded fully. He could not stop the moan that escaped his lips when he felt Jim’s tight channel gripping his lok.

He started moving with deliberate long strokes. Pulling almost all the way out, before thrusting back in, fascinated and shuddering in ecstasy as he watched his lok disappear into Jim’s body. His thrusts became faster, harder, and they were both moaning from the building pleasure. Jim’s hand was stroking his own penis. For a second his rhythm faltered as he watched wide eyed when the hard organ in Jim’s fist spasmed, shooting sperm over the golden skin, triggering his own orgasm. Moaning, he emptied himself in the still spasming channel, then collapsed on Jim. Spent, Spock eased away from Jim, laying next to him. 

Kirk turned towards Spock, propping himself on his elbow, and ran his fingers through the dark hair on the Vulcan’s chest. A strong hand stilled his movement, and he looked up at the Vulcan. A slight eyebrow arch, hinted at amusement at the absurdity of Jim’s action while questioning. But there was something more, a warmth in those usually stoic eyes, and Jim let the love show in his shining eyes.

“You have a fascination with my chest hair, Jim. I am now able to deduce the logical purpose of your activity. You are still attempting to seduce me. It is not necessary, as you have already succeeded.” 

“Oh, okay,” Kirk said, a flush rising on his cheeks, his voice a little hesitant. "I love you." Then he laughed. “But that dark hair of yours is still gorgeous, and so is the hair on your head.” He said, still petting the hair. When Spock released his hand, thinking the Vulcan was getting ready to leave, he stopped his petting of the silky pelt and whispered. “Stay.”

Spock drew Jim closer. Only the soft echo of ‘always, ashayam’ floated around the pair.

A new beggining.