This one is a little more recent.
Revealing, first published February 02, 2019


Spock looked around for his captain, who seemed to have disappeared from his own birthday party. He had other matters to discuss with Jim that he had not wanted to discuss with the crew in attendance. But now it seemed as though he had somehow missed Jim and the captain had departed to whereabouts unknown.

This was not welcome, for Jim had been in the corner of the room earlier that night talking with a blonde woman, who seemed to like to touch the captain frequently.

He was aware Jim had a thing for blondes. Or seemed to. Prior to her departure from the Enterprise, an unexpected departure most agreed, Carol Marcus seemed to always be around their captain. Spock had suspected they’d had an intimate relationship, but Jim had never confirmed this. Spock had heard, though, from a comment from McCoy at the time that Jim was in trouble with Starfleet. He could only surmise it had to do with Lieutenant Marcus.

Spock had no desire to remain at the birthday party without the honoree, so he left, and went out of the building and to a platform that took him out to the viewing point of the Enterprise. This was a closer look than the one they had all gazed at together earlier during the party.

He recalled the conference he’d had with his father earlier that day.

“You are not coming to New Vulcan,” Sarek stated. There was no judgment in his tone, but Spock heard it, nonetheless.

“My circumstances have changed, and it requires I remain with the Enterprise.”

“The Human.”

Spock acknowledged this with a tilt of his head.

“I hope that he is worth it.”

Spock was only mildly surprised that his father had guessed.

He heard her footsteps before she called out to him, “Spock! There you are.”

He turned to face Nyota, who had either followed him or had anticipated his habits, he was unsure which.

“Hello, Nyota.”

She smiled at him, setting her hand on the sleeve of his shirt, as she leaned into him to give him a kiss. Spock turned at the last moment so that she only got his cheek.

Nyota narrowed her eyes, but didn’t immediately comment. She looked out over at the ship. “It’s beautiful.”


She glanced at him. “I want to talk about us. If we’re going to reconcile, truly, and I want to, I need something more, Spock. I’d been meaning to talk to you about all of this, well, before, but then we made the choice to end things, and there was no point. But now, after everything we’ve been through, I want to take our relationship to the next level. We’ve talked about bonding in the past, but we’ve never gotten very far, but now that we’re waiting for the ship to be rebuilt, I want to go to New Vulcan and get bonded.”

Spock knew that this conversation was long overdue, but it didn’t make it any easier. Not for him. Not for her. But he had no choice.

“Nyota, I care for you immensely. You are dear to me and always will be. You have been a great friend and companion to me. I am, however, emotionally unable to offer you the level of commitment you require from me.”

For a long time, he felt her stare, but he did not look in her direction. He felt ashamed of his cowardliness, but he acknowledged its existence. This was the very reason Vulcans chose logic.

“Spock, look at me.”

He did, then, for it would be rude not to, and anyway, it was proper. Her expression was one of emotional despair, her mouth crumbled down, her eyebrows furrowed.


“You haven’t changed your mind, have you? You aren’t going to New Vulcan to settle after all, are you?”

“No, I am not.”

“All right, then…I’d like to understand, Spock.”

“I am…emotionally attached to another,” Spock said honestly.

“You mean you are in love with someone else?” Her voice was whisper soft.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I see.”

“It gives me no pleasure to hurt you, Nyota, with this confession. I never intended to feel this way. I actively fought against it.” To no avail, he thought.

She turned away, looking out at the Enterprise, her bottom lip trembling. “This one you love, human?”


“On the ship?”

He hesitated and then said, “Yes.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. Then she nodded. “You’ve been in love with him for a long time, haven’t you?”

Spock was only slightly startled that she had guessed who he loved, for he knew she had. In reality, he supposed, there was never any doubt, for there were only two humans he was truly close with and one of them was her.

“Perhaps longer than I was willing to admit,” he acknowledged.

She opened her eyes to look at him, and though her eyes were filled with pain, there were no tears. “Does Kirk feel the same way?”

“Unknown. I have not yet had the chance to speak with him. However, whatever his feelings, whether mine are returned or not, it would do you an injustice to renew our romantic relationship.”

Her mouth thinned slightly. “It was never your intention to get back together with me, was it? When we broke up before Krall, that was it for you.”

“Yes. I knew then I could no longer deny my love for the captain, whether I departed the Enterprise or not, it was not fair to you to continue to pretend otherwise.”

Nyota shook her head.

“I do love you, Nyota.”

“Not in the way I want. Not in the way I have grown accustomed to.”

Spock swallowed. “No.”

“I’ve been through this once already. You’d think it would be easier the second time.”


“I’m going to go now. I think it best, for the time being, that we don’t see each other, Spock.”

“If that is your wish, I will honor it.”

She said nothing more then, just reached over and squeezed his hand, and then hurried off in the direction she’d come.

Spock breathed in deeply. He did not want to go the way she’d gone, did not want to risk running into her or interrupting her grieving. He had no idea what her plans were or where she would go. In the immediate time and in the future.

He turned to go the other way and saw Jim standing in the shadows. Spock gasped.  He could not help but wonder, even as Jim fully revealed himself, how much Jim had overheard.

“Captain.” Spock heard the warble in his own voice, but he could not have prevented it. Jim stared at him as though he looked straight into Spock’s katra. He felt bared in a way that was quite uncomfortable to him.

A question formed on his lips, perhaps a distraction from what Jim might have heard, but they fell away, all words, all thoughts, really, as Jim took a step forward, out of the shadows into full view of Spock.

Jim’s hair was in vague disarray, messier than when Spock had last seen him at the party. Somehow the bruised and battered eye and cheek made the blue of his eyes stand out that much more…startling. He still had not spoken a word, but those blue eyes darted all over Spock and the area around them.

Spock had a moment where he considered Jim’s messy hair could be from the activities he’d engaged in with the blonde from the party. But even if that were the case, Spock had no right to feel the rush of jealousy and possessiveness he felt just then. He and the captain were not involved in a relationship.

And it was when Jim took another step forward that Spock realized his captain was shaking. But before Spock could become unduly alarmed, Jim suddenly launched himself at Spock, pressing his lips so hard against Spock’s that it forced Spock to take a startled step back of his own.

But he recovered quickly, hands roaming up to seize Jim’s biceps, and yank him forward so that their bodies were flush together. Jim’s arms wrapped around his neck, his mouth opening to slide his tongue into Spock’s mouth.

They could have been kissing for hours, an eternity, really, and it would not have been enough. Not for Spock. There was nothing like kissing Jim. Or being kissed by Jim. He was not inexperienced. In anything really, save for kissing Jim. And now, Spock intended to experience a lot of that.

When Jim briefly pulled his mouth from Spock’s, Spock chased his lips until they were on Jim’s again, his body pushing Jim’s against the wall of the building until Jim was trapped there, held between Spock’s legs, Spock’s arms.

Spock sunk his teeth briefly into Jim’s bottom lip and the softer whimper Jim gave in response went straight to Spock’s cock, hardening him. He pressed against Jim, who gasped when he felt the hard ridge of Spock’s arousal.

“My room,” Jim whispered on a ragged breath.

“Mine is closer.”

There was a hitch in Jim’s breath when Spock lifted him up so that his feet no longer touched the ground. Jim slipped a hand inside Spock shirt to touch the bare skin of the top of his back, just below his neck, and Spock felt like he’d been scorched. With Jim holding on for purchase he nearly slammed Jim against the building in his need to take that mouth.

“Spock, room.”

He managed to nod, but still it was almost impossible to pull himself away from Jim, even long enough to get them to some place appropriate for such activities. Part of his brain told him that this was all an illusion, a fantasy he had conjured up, and if he let loose of Jim even for a moment his captain would disappear into a puff of smoke and he’d still be standing by himself at the balcony overlooking the building of the Enterprise.

But he could not risk such exposure for his captain. Not on Yorktown. Not anywhere, really. So he finally forced himself to back away from Jim, before reaching for and seizing hold of Jim’s wrist to pull him from the area.

Jim went with him, willingly, and though others might have attempted to call their attention or perhaps even openly stared at them, Spock paid them no mind.

It was true that his temporary quarters on Yorktown were closer to their location than Jim’s were as the captain had been put up in luxurious accommodations due to his status as both their commanding officer and a hero as far as the leadership and occupants of Yorktown were concerned. He knew Jim had protested that it was never just him, but he’d been given the accommodations even still. Part of Spock thought he should take Jim all the way to those rooms, because surely Jim deserved such honors and deserved any pampering Jim could get from them and from Spock, but impatience won out and he turned in the direction of the building he was staying in.

He’d left the light on in his quarters, something he didn’t usually do, but for once it had been in his favor, because it meant the room was lit and he didn’t have to stop kissing his captain long enough to have them turned on.

And he had been kissing Jim as soon as they’d entered the private corridor. Kissing him and backing him toward the door, not caring at all if someone came along to see them in such a compromising situation.

By the time they were inside, Jim’s lips were wet and puffy from kissing. And a little breathless. Spock should slow down, let the human breathe, he knew that. But yet he couldn’t stop himself from chasing those addicting lips each time they got away from him.

Jim’s pupils were blown wide. He looked disheveled and wanton and despoiled. It made Spock burn.

If this would be the way his Pon Farr would begin one day, Spock would not be at all surprised. Because yes, he was on fire for Jim. His blood was heated. He yanked the leather coat off Jim’s shoulders with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary. But the coat fell to the floor at their feet.

The bed was across the room, too far for Spock’s liking, but their first time, he would not have against the wall or on the floor. Jim deserved care. To be cherished in all ways.

“Spock,” Jim gasped, gulping in a lungful of air as he actually put his hands against Spock’s chest. He laughed then, proving to Spock he was not cross. “Give me a second.”

“I apologize. It is just—”

“No. No apologies.” Jim yanked on the color of Spock’s shirt and fastened their lips together in a searing kiss. “You’re wearing too many clothes, mister.”

Somehow they got Spock’s shirt off—a shirt that had been a gift from Nyota during a shore leave—he was not sure if it was him or Jim that managed to remove it, but Spock tossed it away, behind him, so that it hit the door of his quarters. He kicked off his shoes and watched as Jim did the same.

Next he turned to Jim’s shirt, and honestly Spock would have been happy to shred it from Jim’s body, but just as his fingers moved to the edges of the sleeves to do so, Jim threw him a very disapproving captain’s look. He allowed Jim to rid himself of the shirt.

For a moment, all Spock could do was stare. Jim was beautiful, Spock had known that, and he was still, incredibly so, but his chest and arms were also covered in contusions from his battle with Krall.

“Hey,” Jim said, softly. “What’s that look for?”

“Your injuries—”

Jim put his fingers on Spock’s lips to stop his words. “Let’s not spoil this moment, okay? I’m fine. I’m good. Nothing hurts. And I really want you to show me just what you’ve been bottling up inside.”

He slipped his hand into Spock’s trousers and pulled him toward the bed.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Jim said. “I just want to feel you everywhere.”

Spock agreed with that sentiment in reverse so he pushed Jim down until he lay flat on the mattress.  Their erections pressed against each other and the hard ridge of Jim’s arousal had Spock groaning. While Spock would have almost been content to engage in perhaps hours of frottage, he was also eager to fully join with Jim. He had been imagining their coitus too long to just stop at rubbing against each other, but it was a near thing.

“Get out of these,” Jim whispered urgently.

“I will get you out of yours first,” Spock returned. He was pleased that Jim’s zipper slid down without encumbrance and even more so when Jim lifted up so that Spock could slip Jim’s jeans down and off his body with ease. He removed Jim’s boxer briefs, too.

He paused again to admire the beauty of Jim’s male form. He was hardness and muscle, sculpted like an ancient Greek or Roman statue. But no mere cold marble, but warm and giving flesh.

“Now you.”

Spock nodded, reluctant to pause in his worship of Jim long enough to remove his own clothing, but also eager to have bare flesh touch bare flesh.

He rose enough only so that he could remove his own pants and underwear and then returned to Jim, who held his arms open to receive him.

“Lube?” Jim asked.


Jim looked down at Spock’s erection and smiled. “How lucky.”


His captain laughed. It was amazing sound. Especially knowing he had been the cause of it. Jim didn’t laugh nearly enough and if Spock had anything to say to change that, he definitely would.

Their gazes met and held as Spock rose above Jim, Jim’s body tilted so that Spock had perfect access to Jim’s entrance. At first there was a slight resistance, a too tightness. But then the tension left Jim, his muscles relaxed and he accepted Spock fully into him.

There was no way they could last for long. It was too intense, too much wanted, too much dreamed of, for far too long. And there would be time, later, on Yorktown, on the Enterprise, wherever and whenever they went, to explore, to be together, in every way possible.

But now, as they were, Spock’s thrusts were frantic, deep, fast, desperate. He wanted to fill Jim up, mingle their scents, mark them for all time as lovers, soulmates.

With one tug on Jim’s shaft, his captain was screaming hoarsely, his open mouth gasping against Spock as Spock pounded into him until he too screamed, from him, Jim’s name, stripping his throat to rough soreness, and he cared not at all.

He didn’t want to move after, and for a long time he didn’t. Jim did not protest either, he just held Spock to him, arms wrapped snugly around Spock’s middle.

Eventually he slipped out and off, and would have risen and went to clean them, but Jim tugged him back to lie down beside him.

Spock’s fingertips caressed Jim’s jaw, so beautiful. “I suppose this means that you share my feelings.”

Jim laughed again and the warmth bubbled up from him and into Spock. It was a strange feeling.

“What is?” Jim asked.

And Spock realized he had spoken the thought out loud.

“I feel…happy.”’

“Get used to it,” Jim returned. “And yes, Spock. I share your feelings.” His lashes covered the blue for a moment, too long for Spock. He could be mesmerized by those eyes. And in fact, had been, many times. “I didn’t think…well…”

“Nor did I.”

Jim’s gaze flew to his. “You won’t leave?”

“I will not.” Spock hesitated. “And you?”

The smile lit up Jim’s face. And perhaps the room, no matter the cliché. “Not a chance.”

Spock kissed him.

“You’re right.”

“About what, Captain?”

That treasured laugh again. Spock wanted it endlessly.

“It is a strange feeling, happiness. But I think I like it.”

“Me too, ashayam. Me too.”