Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I hope your father knows how much I appreciate what he did for me… for us…” Kirk mentioned once again, as he had numerous times in the past week since the Enterprise had picked them up. Sprawled on his bed, uniform rumpled after a long day on the bridge, Kirk stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to appear effusive, but he saved my life. I don’t know how to repay him. Just ferrying him back to Vulcan doesn’t seem nearly enough – we would have done that anyway.”

“That is all he wants,” Spock assured, strolling into the sleeping area of the captain’s quarters. “His own life was in as much jeopardy as ours. All three of us worked together to survive, and we succeeded. My father’s greatest need now is to return to my mother, so that she will be able to assist his recovery. As his bondmate, she will add her strength to his, and their bonding will support them both.”

With a resigned shake of head on the pillow, Kirk closed his eyes. The trip to Vulcan after three days of intensive debriefing at Starbase 18 was their first opportunity for relaxation since their capture. Even the first two days spent in the base hospital had not been conducive to rest. “But he was practically responsible for our entire escape – sneaking us out of the camp with the two of you disguised as Romulan guards, hot-wiring a shuttle, flying us back to Federation space while evading pursuit, as well as preventing us from being shot down by our own people… I submitted a recommendation that he be awarded the Cypress Star Cluster, but no medal can come anywhere near to what I owe him… and you, Spock. Thank you both.”

“It is my duty – and my desire – to support you, Jim. Especially now that you are my bondmate as well as my captain.”

Kirk’s eyes flickered to his companion’s; and a slight unease flickered through the link, as he quickly changed the subject. “The Exeter and the Rodger Young have been assigned to patrol that sector until the second planet moves into Federation space. And Winters has already sent demands to Romulan High Command to get their asses off a supposedly neutral planet. At least this time the admiral did more than just sit on his ass.”

“Yes,” Spock acknowledged.

“I just wonder if we’ll be called back to help clean up… I think I might have difficulty… returning to the camp… even though I’m not a prisoner there anymore.” Despair lined the human’s face, masked immediately by a frown. “Goddamn, Winters practically made me describe word for word what S'Rezli did to us. An the hospital personnel too… damn, it was almost like being violated all over again.”

“Jim, they needed to ascertain precisely how we were injured so that they could help us. I wish to help you too. As my mother is there to assist my father, so we must work this out together. Please allow us to do so.”

Kirk turned a hesitant gaze toward his companion. “Spock,” he admitted, “I’m not sure how to handle this ‘bondmate’ relationship. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act. I sense you inside me all the time – even though I realize you’ve been holding our contact to a minimum. But even so, it’s there – and I feel like I’ll never be alone with my own thoughts again.”

“That is true, you won’t be,” Spock agreed. “We must come to terms with this change in our relationship. You have been avoiding me for the past seven days.”

“No, I haven’t,” Kirk denied. “I’ve… been busy. First the hospital, then Winters’ debriefing, then getting caught up on ship’s business. Besides we’ve been together on the bridge for the last two days.”

“You know that is not what I mean.”

“In the hospital, you joined with me in a healing meld. I let you do that.”

“That was all you let me do.” As Spock stepped closer to the bed, Kirk sat up, folded his arms and crossed his legs. “Jim,” Spock tried to reassure, “I understand this is difficult for you. But you must allow me in. I have been patient for the past week, allowing you to come to terms with this in your own way. But now we must unify.”

Kirk’s dis-ease colored with frustration. “We are unified. I have no privacy anymore. S'Rezli was in my mind; you and Sarek too. I have nothing left to myself.”

“What the commandant did to you – and to me – was not at all the same as what Sarek and you and I have shared,” Spock countered. “Jim, I do realize that humans are not used to close telepathic contact, and I understand that you are disturbed by the intimacy.”

Rising from the bed, Kirk distanced himself from his partner by going over to the dresser and rearranging the items on the bureau-top. “Dammit, I was violated, Spock. It’s hard enough coming to terms with that, without all these new feelings that I’ve never had before. I feel desires toward you, sexual desires. And yet I remember what the prison guard did to me, and I’m impotent as well. You know, before we bonded, I’d never… slept with a man. Now that’s all I can have for the rest of my life.”

Spock moved up behind him. “I told you that was an inevitable consequence of our bonding.”

“I know you did. And I know we had to bond when we did. But now why can’t we just go back to the way things were before? Why can’t we just be bonded but not do anything about it?

Spock's own frustration began to build. “We cannot. We are linked for the rest of our lives. I too have feelings awakened that I never felt before. We are not what we were before. Do not naïvely suppose that we can be. Jim, I have a need for you to join me now as my bondmate.”

A wash of irritation, and Kirk moved into the less-intimate surroundings of the outer office. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you making demands now?”

“Yes, Jim. For both of us.” Spock followed his retreat. “We must solidify our union. Part of your discomfort now is an effect of our out-of-phase conjunction. We must correct that as soon as possible. In four days we will arrive on Vulcan. We must be in harmony by then. Neither of us will be able to function among other telepaths as long as our minds are aberrant.”

“Do you mean re-do what we did in the cell? Do you want to have sex with me again?”

“I very much wish to share sexual pleasure with you again, and soul-unification.”

“Let’s talk about this later,” Kirk announced abruptly, and headed for the door. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore now.”

“No!”

The absolute command in the other man’s voice and through the link, and a powerful grip on Kirk’s arm halted him instantly. Surprise – and not a little shock of fear – squeezed his chest; and whirling around, he yanked from the grip. Never in their four years together had his second-in-command ever spoken to him like that. With wary eyes he stared at the Vulcan, then attempted to walk out the door again.

Again Spock grabbed him, jerked him around, pushed him against the wall. “Jim, you will not avoid me any longer!”

Momentarily the fear blossomed into panic. Kirk could not control Spock's presence in his mind, and he could not overpower the man physically either. In a flash of clarity, he understood Vulcan dominance, and realized just how much Spock had been suppressing all this time. And a familiar sensation of helplessness gripped him as tightly as Spock had hold of him: the same as the Romulan strength had humiliated him so absolutely.

The panic surged through their bond, images of Romulan torture, of a human so vulnerable; and then a grotesque phantasm of Spock domineering, possessing… raping…

And the feedback ripped through Spock; grievous pain drew the stern countenance even more rigid. Immediately he dropped his hands and withdrew the force of his presence. “It is not the same, Jim,” he insisted quietly. “I do not rape. I require your presence as my equal and as my mate. Neither of us is whole alone any longer. But if the bond troubles you so greatly, then perhaps we should attempt to nullify it after all, or at least weaken it. If you wish for us to return to our former state, then upon reaching Vulcan, we shall procure the services of a healer. I cannot guarantee the results, but as the bond did not fully take, perhaps it can be removed without too great a risk to us.”

For a moment he looked into the human’s distressed eyes, then turned toward the bathroom door which connected their quarters. “Good night, Jim. I shall be in my cabin the rest of the evening.”

Without a word, Kirk watched him leave, heard the doors sigh shut behind the departing form. Carefully he checked the spark of his companion’s aura in his mind – it was still there. Anxiety and tension hovered close by, a tangle of confusion. The memory-sense of Spock's strength echoed through Kirk’s arms as though the steel fingers still gripped him, and absently Kirk rubbed the stimulated skin.

Maybe it would be best after all for them to sever the bond. After all, it had only been initiated as a last-ditch effort to confound their captors, and not because of any profound sexual love between the two of them – certainly not like the love between Sarek and Spock's mother. A marriage of convenience – or more accurately, of military practicality. Of course they cared for each other, cared a great deal. As a command team, they had been inseparable for the past four-and-a-half years. They trusted each other’s judgment as though it were their own, covered each other’s rear whenever necessary, spent most of their off-duty time together. But to be bonded as life-mates, sexual mates – that raised a whole other set of circumstances.

Kirk tugged his shirt off and tossed it on the bedside chair. It was late and he was tired. Bed looked so inviting.

His body was healing now from their three-week ordeal; between the base hospital and McCoy’s skillful touch, his injuries had all been tended, infections halted. Bruises and wounds still ached, but that would soon fade, and McCoy had assured that any left-over scars could later be smoothed away, and little sign would remain that the horror had ever happened.

But about the mental damage, the doctor had not been so reassuring. How any of them would deal with the brutal memories of their confinement was up to each one’s individual psychological strength. And right now Kirk felt very shaky in that department.

Boots were stood beside the bunk. Socks followed the shirt onto the chair.

Spock had assisted his physical healing. In their meld during the hospital stay, Kirk had felt the Vulcan’s presence within him, in his bones and muscles and blood. Spock had offered to assist him mentally as well, but Kirk had refused, wanting – needing – to be left alone after S'Rezli’s invasion and the bond’s intrusion. Spock had acquiesced – as he always did – to Kirk’s request.

And now Kirk began to think that maybe that hadn't been the right thing to demand. He’d needed his privacy, but Spock had needed him. Spock needed him now. He wasn’t the only one to have suffered violation under the commandant’s hands: Spock had willingly taken Kirk’s place first, had submitted to the Romulan’s rape to delay his captain’s ordeal and thereby give them time to create some sort of protection for Kirk. Better than the human, Spock had realized what bonding would mean to any other life-plans. And he had been willing to sacrifice other possible futures to join with Kirk. Military practicality, yes, but more than that. A lifetime more than that. Maybe that was love after all.

Pants and undershorts joined the pile on the chair.

He should walk next door and see what he could do for Spock. He owed him that. He owed him everything. And who else did he intend to spend the rest of his life with, anyway? There was nothing else. Nothing but his job, and the Enterprise… and Spock. and what did the sex matter? They’d had sex once, they could do it again. And again. Even the thought now did something to that little spot in his mind where Spock's essence lived, triggered a need, a desire to touch Spock's body now… and more than that, to touch his mind and soul again. Spock was right: alone and apart, neither was whole any longer.

Then before any contrary thought could refute him, he strode through the bathroom and into Spock's quarters.

Spock sat in a chair in the bed-chamber. He was nude, and his eyes were closed, face relaxed in contemplative repose. As Kirk entered, he looked up, meeting the intensity of Kirk’s eyes with calm receptivity.

An intake of breath, then Kirk announced without preface, “Spock, I don’t want to break the bond.” And knew that Spock sensed his words before they were spoken. “I’m… sorry I reacted the way I did.”

Gentleness touched the human’s energy, and the spark in his mind brightened to a watchfire once again. He knew Spock's thoughts too, but Spock spoke them aloud as well. “My presence was over-powering your own self. I retreated to regain my own emotional control and to allow you your center of balance. You needed to confront your true desires with regard to this matter between us.”

Strolling closer to Spock’s chair, Kirk managed a little smile. “I think I knew my true desires better at the time we first decided to bond, while we were still imprisoned, than after we got back to the ship.”

“At the time we bonded, you had not yet faced S'Rezli’s interrogation. The trauma of that damaged the perception of our union. Your loss of confidence is understandable.”

A slight nod of head acknowledged Spock's insight. “Well, I’ve decided I’d like to re-unify – if that’s what you say has to be done.” With a smile, Kirk looked down at himself, at his own nakedness. “I guess I’m dressed for the occasion, aren’t I?”

“Your… uncovering… is most conducive to a state of physical joining,” Spock's own tiny smile of amusement noted. “But I know you do not wish sex tonight.”

Kirk shrugged. “My ass is still too tender to take you tonight. But I’m willing to go along with anything else you want. Do whatever you need to do to make it right between us.” He reached for Spock's hands, whispered gently, “Just do it, Spock. Please.”

Squeezing Kirk’s fingers, Spock rose from the chair and moved over to the neatly opened bed, partner in tow. The watchfire of their bonding glowed steadily, the transmission of thoughts and feelings pulsating with greater intensity as they lay down together. A disparate cluster of emotions warred within Kirk: desire, and the need to correct the situation between Spock and himself, yet also fear, memories of the last time his body was entered, his mind probed cruelly.

“Jim,” Spock murmured, lying beside him. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Kirk insisted despite the storm of conflict in his mind. “Spock, you must know I want this, even if I can’t think straight. Please help me get through it.”

Spock's arms gathered him close. “I shall.” Tenderly he kissed his bondmate’s eyelids. “Surrender, Jim, and I shall bring us together.”

Obligingly Kirk willed body and mind to relax, as he had done once before in a dank filthy cell; but now only peace and comfort filled him, while the fire within began to absorb his being.

“I am with you,” Spock whispered. “Do not be afraid. See the fire, concentrate on the fire. Allow me to draw you out of yourself.”

As best he could, Kirk restrained his restless thought, saw the glow, pictured it as a flaming brazier. Slowly, gradually, he felt Spock's presence guiding him. His legs grew numb, then his arms, torso; and he felt himself drawn weightlessly from the physical plane into another finer dimension. Fear attempted to intrude, but Spock's warmth drained it of its chill.

And then, as though the whole existence faded away, Kirk found himself at the threshold of a new world brilliant and finely detailed – the same, and yet entirely different. He saw the fire blazing and Spock standing within it, like two images superimposed. Spock was nude and reaching out to him, eyes calm and quiet.

This was not the same as their first bonding. Obviously Spock had known before Kirk had, that the human would finally come to him tonight, and so he had initiated the meditative state for Kirk to slip into directly. Now Kirk felt his life essence vibrating as though a sound current surrounded them, passed through them: the sound of bells, of conch shells, of temple chimes.

And Spock remained in the flame – not a funeral pyre, but rather a refining blaze that burned away all the dull heaviness of solid reality, and left pure weightless essence. The long arms and slender hands reached for Kirk, offered solace from his pain, contentment and acceptance.

… you must come to me… Spock urged… you must join me of your own free choosing… come to me, James Kirk…

And it wasn’t difficult, not difficult at all. Kirk felt desire in his bonding center, and realized with this new clarity that what he had previously interpreted as Spock invading him was actually only half Spock and it was half himself as well; and it was love, not invasion.

… I need you, Spock… he pleaded to the image in the flame, and the image smiled at him.

… I know you do… now you understand my need of you as well, my bondmate… come to me…

… is this love, Spock?...

…love by any name you wish to call it…

And the proffered embrace invited him, refusing to be denied… and willingly Kirk stepped forward into the flame, and found that he was merely stepping into himself, stepping into that place which he and Spock already occupied; only this time it was completely right.

And something inside him slid home with a heavy metallic thud like the chamber-doors sealing fast.

Kirk lurched up from the bed, half-expecting that it actually had been the chamber-doors that he heard.

But he was still in Spock's quarters in the dark, and Spock was beside him, and Spock was in him, and he felt a power that would help him overcome the nightmare of torment and abuse.

Lips touched his own, not a threat of usurpation, but an assurance of love. The energy in his mind held at bay all shadows of anxiety; and he sensed himself sinking into a nearly-transcendent peace as Spock's breath and warmth enfolded him. And he felt his own warmth reaching back, brightening the watchfire that he tended in Spock’s mind, the fire that mirrored the blaze in his own.

Gradually feeling and weight returned to his body. Spock's hands were caressing him, carefully, tenderly, touching all the secret spots to pleasure him, while the Vulcan’s mind feather-caressed their bonding center.

The energy stirred in Kirk’s loins; the fire burned away all desecration of S'Rezli’s rape, and now Kirk knew that he wanted Spock, he was no longer impotent.

Spock did not attempt to penetrate him, but rather fingered Kirk’s responding flesh gently, drawing the tendrils of desire stronger and stronger. In reciprocation, Kirk began to stroke the lean hard body beside him, pushed his hand down into the moist heat between parted thighs. Spock's contented sigh breathed close to his ear, while an echo of satisfaction shimmered through their link. Need began to build, simultaneously and reverberating, gathering them in its upsweep, roiling through them.

“We are one,” Spock whispered / thought, and Kirk realized that it was true: aside from enjoying his own participation in the act, he was sensing it all in its entirety from the limits of their individual bodies. The physical, the mental, the emotional – he wouldn’t have thought that he was capable of giving so much and receiving so much.

And then desire could delay no longer: and in near-blinding ecstasy both exploded in searing orgasm, a climax that went on and on, before ultimately returning its performers to solid reality.

In complete satiation, Kirk lay there on the bed, feeling the tender cat-kisses that Spock caressed over his hair, feeling the heavy body-weight lying half on top of him. “Spock,” he murmured against a sweat-slick throat, “is the pain finally over?”

Spock's head shook. “No. But it is ours now, and we shall overcome it together.”

Kirk slipped tension-trembling arms about the lean waist. “Thanks, my friend, for being close whenever I’ve needed you.”

“You have always been close to me as well,” Spock reminded. “Our bond is not as new as we think. We have been one for many years now – we have simply not been aware of it in our souls.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re aware of it now.” And touching the warmth in their minds, Kirk let the embers soothe him into a trouble-free sleep at last.

* * * * * FINIS * * * * *