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It had become quickly apparent to Jim that his favourite part of sex was the way Spock held him before it, during it, and, especially, after it. It did not matter what position they were in, they were always touching as if Spock could not bear to be more than a breath away from him.
Jim loved it because he couldn’t stand it, either.
Spock was lying on his back and Jim had made himself room on his chest so that he may rest his head there, his own palm above where Spock’s heart was. In this position, he was not able to hear his heartbeat but, currently, that was preferred. Jim was overstimulated, still gasping in breaths of air that were becoming less shallow by the second, and he would much rather feel it.
Besides, if he angled his hand just right, he could place his thumb hard enough against the skin, not too hard, and Jim could feel Spock’s heart beating under his own pulse.
Spock’s hand, the one that had been resting on his back, had slowly begun to move to trace the lines of his ribs. Jim hummed low, tilting his head so that his face would be pressed further into Spock’s chest.
“Can I share something?” Jim asked.
His voice was much better than it had been in the aftermath their fucking—though, it had been rather sweet, if intense, so fucking might not be perhaps the right word for it.
“I would have your thoughts.”
While spooning would have made it so that he could feel every minute movement from Spock, this position also allowed him to feel it, if a little limited, but he could also hear it from where his ear was pressed against.
“That mission. When we were being forced to do shit and we were wearing togas?”
“Is it still distressing you?” Spock asked.
“Yeah. No. But, that’s besides the point. I was thinking about us, wearing those clothes.” Jim hesitated, not quite sure how he would continue.
“You have already informed me that you had found me appealing in them.” Spock said dryly.
Jim cracked a grin and gifted Spock with a kiss to his chest.
“I…”
Spock, even without the aid of a mind meld was always amazed with Jim’s mind, or so he kept informing him. He had once said that it was fascinating how Jim could creatively problem solve as well as going a step further by being several steps ahead of everyone.
He understood that it was difficult for Jim to articulate his thought processes, how he reached from one point to another. It was why he almost never explained his plans, only hoping that Spock would pick up on his ideas—which he always did.
But, of course, there were moments where he had to explain or the conversation would not make sense.
It was only fortunate that Spock was patient enough to listen through Jim’s ramblings when those rare occurrences, well, occurred.
“I’m your t’hy’la.” Jim said eventually.
“As I am yours.”
There was a pressure at the top of his head, the sensation dulled by his hair, but Jim knew with absolute certainty that Spock had kissed his head. It was hard to contain his grin and he had not wanted to.
“And you remember the first time you explained it to me?” Jim asked.
“Yes, you had dropped your novel and had situated yourself on my lap to kiss me thoroughly.” He sounded pleased with himself.
“And what did I say after?” Jim prompted.
“ Like soulmates? ” Spock echoed.
“Like soulmates.” Jim agreed.
“Have I ever told you who my favourite romantic couple is from literature?” Jim asked.
“Lucie and Sydney from a Tale of Two Cities as they remind you of us.” Spock said automatically.
“Other than them.” Jim said quickly.
“No, you have not. Would you care to share?”
“What book was I reading Spock?” Jim huffed out a laugh. “When you explained to me how we were t’hy’la.”
“ The Iliad .” Spock sucked in a breath. “You…”
“Think of us as Achilles and Patroclus.” Jim said, trying not to rush the words out. “They may be even more fitting to us than Lucie and Sydney.”
Jim had read the Iliad four times in his life: when he had been on Tarsus, thinking that reading about a mythical princes and demi-gods would distract him from the terrors of his reality, when he had joined the Academy, thinking that his future adventures may not reflect the epic but would surely shape history as it had, when Spock had read it to him when he had woken up from his coma, thinking that—
When Spock had confessed the meaning of the term of endearment he had taken to calling Jim, three days after they had confessed their feelings.
“Jim…”
Spock’s arms had moved to encircle Jim within them, holding Jim tightly.
“That’s what I thought about when we were wearing those togas. It came back to me.” Jim admitted.
Spock was silent but Jim had learned that his silence was not to be taken as a sign of discomfort or anger. He was like Jim, he liked to mull his thoughts over before speaking them outloud. Spock just had more of a neutral face than Jim ever did while doing it.
“I must confess, I only know the basics of their story.” His voice was subdued and apologetic. “I only know of his Achilles’ heel and loss of control after the death of his lover.”
“That’s okay.”
And it was.
Spock had not known of Lucie and Sydney, either. Only had known that they were protagonists of a book that Jim liked to reread every few months, of a book that Jim owned several copies of, one of which were heavily annotated.
He has only found out in the midst of a mind meld as they were having sex; Spock has been lazily thrusting into Jim’s body and there must have been a stray thought from his end because, after they had finished, Spock had asked if he may borrow a copy of the novel so that he may read it.
Jim had a theory that the loose thought had been linked to realising that Jim adored hearing the love interests talk in his historical novels and that his own lover sounded like them. All he knew was that whenever he asked, Spock was always unbearably smug about it.
“Would you tell me their story?” Spock asked.
“Me?” Jim lifted his head in surprise and looked down at Spock. “You sure? I’m not exactly a poet when it comes to words. I might just fuck up saying it.”
“I like hearing how your mind works.” Spock said bluntly. “I am sure I will make my own connections to us when hearing their tale but I find myself wishing to know what parallels you have seen. You see things that I cannot and allow me to expand my own perspective on things.”
Exactly like those historical love interests.
Jim braced himself against Spock’s chest and leaned down to kiss him, lips against lips, as sweet as he could manage and then some. Spock only had to shift his arms to give him a more comfortable spot and proceeded to further dismantle Jim’s train of thought with his careful application of tongue.
“You have to know that they’re myths so there are many different versions of them as well as retelling and the like.” Jim said after he pushed himself away. “Sometimes, they’re friends. Sometimes, they’re brothers—in the sense they had a warrior bond during the war and were close in their childhood. Sometimes, they were lovers. Most of the time, all three or none at all so the reader would not be able to distinguish between them.”
For lack of a better description, Spock looked to be in awe.
Jim reached up with one hand to slide two fingers against his slackened jaw before moving them slowly to Spock’s lips. A kiss for a kiss.
He wondered if Spock could tell what he was thinking. They always had a shallow connection after sex, disconnected words and emotions passing through. He wondered if Spock could feel the echo of his awe from when he had realised the same thing, when Spock had listed off the definitions.
It had been a revelation.
“I think I’ll tell you about The Song of Achilles . It’s a retelling based solely on the two of them. The Trojan war is there but it’s not the focal point, that way it minimises the amount of characters seen so it’s less confusing.” Jim grinned.
Spock only nodded, looking slightly dazed.
“So, it’s set in the perspective of Patroclus. At the age of nine, he was an exiled prince of a kingdom who did not care for him much. But, before that, he had met Achilles once: during a tournament he had helped host which Achilles had won. They did not speak but Patroclus saw him.” Jim said slowly.
He could see Spock making the connections in his head.
Spock was not an exile from his planet, far from it, but he had a self-imposed isolation from them that was only broken when duty called for it—or, in more recent days, when his father attempted their weekly comm calls.
And, the first time they had met was not the first time Spock had seen Jim. Spock had been in the simulator that day during Jim’s third attempt at the Kobayashi Maru. He had always thought that someone had reported to Spock what had happened but Spock had been there.
“It wasn’t until his exile that they properly met.” Jim said, digging into his memories.
He wasn’t much for Greek epics or twenty first century books but he did expand his horizons every now and then, especially as the nineteenth and twentieth century weren’t that famous for fantasy and sci-fi. He may have read the Iliad numerous times but he had only read The Song of Achilles twice.
It had made him cry both times.
“Patroclus had been sent to Phthia as their King took in orphans in exchange for training them into soldiers. That very first day, Patroclus was sent to see the King, as per custom, but he wasn’t there but his son, Achilles, was. That was when the problems began.”
Spock raised his brow curiously, prompting Jim to grin mischievously.
“Patroclus only had one belonging of his mother that he truly treasured: her lyre. And, there it was, in this smug bastard's hands. He might have been playing it like a pro but that was Patroclus’ mom’s lyre and he had just been exiled and here was a prince that his father had once compared him to. He looked lazy, cocky, looked like he was insulting his mother, almost, and most certainly not fit to be a prince.”
Spock’s arms tightened against Jim and he leaned down so that his head was lying against his chest again. Parents were not a favoured topic among their household. Even if Jim had made a promise that if Spock put in the effort to talk to his father, he would put in the effort in talking to his mother. Sarek didn’t deserve the attention Spock was giving him but that wasn’t for him, it was for Spock.
“And for ages, Patroclus would have nightmares of his exile since he had accidentally killed a boy in self-defence. His days were getting harder. It was hard to escape Achilles, too, since he was hell-bent on catching his attention. The dick even juggled figs for him and stuff.”
It was reminiscent of their first days aboard the Enterprise.
Spock had kept to himself, keeping even Uhura at arm’s length, and studiously applied himself to his work, completely abandoning his previous work ethic of keeping his life carefully balanced.
Jim, on the other hand, had been promised a friendship that would define him and, as a man that was untethered by finding out he was an offshoot of a starship captain and who was also starved for attention his entire life, he was desperate for that enough to push a little too hard.
Their start was messy, involving a lot of misunderstandings that had resulted in more stress for Spock and a minor mental breakdown for Jim. Technically, it had been Jim’s mental breakdown to bring them together as, after one last rejection for a chess game, Jim had just hyperventilated and wondered why no one ever wanted him.
Spock, the awkward soul that he was, kinda just stood there until Jim wore himself out before saying something very heartfelt before he had finally agreed to a chess game in the recreational room.
“But, there was this one day where Patroclus was skipping out on his training session and Achilles went to go find him. He thought the prince was going to tell on him but it turns out Achilles wanted to go help him. Patroclus, the bold guy that he was, told him to lie and say that he was with Achilles all day. But Achilles hated lying so they ended up going through Achilles’ day together.”
That mental breakdown may have been the turning point for their relationship but Jim would maintain that their parallel to that moment would have been when they had been on Nero’s ship together. When Spock had come back with a plan and they had teleported off together. That was their moment, even if he had made out with Uhura.
“Patroclus realised he really liked his company.”
Just like Spock had.
“Achilles, for a long time, had been asked to find himself an attendant, an aide, one might even say First Officer: a therapon . He had refused all else until Patroclus.”
Just as Jim had.
Pike had refused to let Jim forget how he had rejected every application for the First Officer position.
“They got to spend every day together. Even shared a room.”
Jim and Spock had shared a bathroom before they had come together. It counted. Maybe. Achilles and Patroclus got to share a room because Patroclus was his therapon . They got to share a bathroom because they were a command team. Besides, they must have also shared a bathroom if they shared a room.
“They grew older and passed the years having fun together. There were rough patches, like Achilles’ mother not approving of Patroclus but it was okay. They were just kids. With crushes. Spock, they were so cute. Achilles would jump onto his bed and rub their noses together. It got to the point where Patroclus had no choice but to kiss him on a beach.”
Jim had recently discovered that his flirting techniques were equivalent to that of a fictional thirteen year old boy. While he would not rub their noses together, at least, before they had become involved, he had the same method of being over affectionate before playing coy. Spock had said, not exactly, that Jim had driven him mad.
Jim smirked, remembering the first time Spock had joined a game of poker. He had always said that he had more productive things to do, such as continuing an experiment, or meditating, but had caved in when Jim had been the one to offer him.
For the three hours of that game, Jim had more or less sat in Spock’s lap— god, how did he ever think Spock wasn’t into him if he had allowed that? —as he guided Spock into playing against their friends. As soon as the game had ended, Jim had swiftly left his seat and left the room politely to go get himself a midnight snack before bed and Spock had followed him .
“Achilles, though, had known Thetis would tear Patroclus limb from limb and had run away. There was this whole mess that ended up making him be sent to be trained away in the mountains by Chiron. Patroclus, stout and ever present, just followed him, even if he thought his crush was unrequited. They were friends and, if they weren’t, he still wanted to make sure he was safe.
“They trained together for years and when Achilles found out his mother was unable to see him on the mountains, he had sex with Patroclus.” Jim smirked wickedly. “He was literally saying his mother wasn’t home.”
“Jim.” Spock admonished.
“Still, it was sweet.” Jim softened up. “Well, until they were forced to go back to the castle. See, Achilles was born under a prophecy. He was revealed sections of it as he grew older. At first, before his training, he had known he would become the greatest warrior known to the Greeks. And, now, there was a war brewing as Helen had been stolen away and what better way was there to prove one’s worth?”
In the retelling, and in many of the myths, they were still teenagers when they were sent off to war. Jim, at that age, had been stewing in his anger after his own horrors. That was what disasters did: they created anger that burned so bright that it would eventually burn out.
Jim has been pretty apathetic before he had met Pike.
He wondered, those years Achilles spent alone, waiting for Patroclus, had he become apathetic? After all, his anger had…
“His mother, Thetis, protective of him, had taken Achilles away. For months, Patroclus searched for him until Achilles’ father told him of his location. He took a boat and sailed. He arrived at the location, another man’s castle, and had sat down when the King introduced a bunch of dancers, women, when Patroclus recognised one of them to be his Achilles. And, Achilles, not one to ever hide or be ashamed, just jumped into his arms and tried to apologise.”
There has been a story that Spock, the old one, had once told him. Where his Jim had once swapped bodies with a previous lover with him—which, insane, body swapping was apparently going to be a thing now—and Spock, who had recognised Jim’s vocal patterns and mannerisms in the body of a woman only believed who he truly was after a meld. Still, Spock had known him, even when all logic dictated that the lady couldn’t have possibly been him, he had been so willing to find Jim that he had done a meld .
“You know, I’m glad that there aren’t any gender norms on clothes anymore. It’s nice to know that it wasn’t always there, either. Achilles was comfortable enough to wear a dress, wear makeup, dress like a hooker, and still felt comfortable enough as a man and as a gay man. That might have been because he legit has no shame at all but still. Though, he found it sucky since he couldn’t do much when wearing a dress.”
Jim blinked, trying to find where he had been before his tangent. He had been speaking about Achilles in a dress so he must have been talking about Skyros or a hypothetical crossdressing kink.
“Then, there was this whole mess where one of the other girls got upset that Achilles was jumping into the arms of another. Her name was Deidamia. Achilles tried to salvage the situation by calling Patroclus his husband and she revealed to her father that Achilles was a man and her husband and that she was pregnant.”
Apparently, according to the other Spock, Carol Marcus had fathered him a son in his timeline. In this world, they had met around the same time they would have but, due to the circumstances of their lives, whatever attraction they might have had towards each other had been stifled and, otherwise, killed.
Besides, Bones had been into her and Jim was more or less dying and in love with Spock.
“Patroclus left. Valid. He stormed off to the beach and Achilles chased after him. He explained that his mother had promised to tell Patroclus where he was if he did it. The worst part was that he didn’t even like it. It didn’t even take a moment for Patroclus to just say that there was nothing to forgive. As he should. I know things were different back in those times but it must have been traumatising.
“Then came the days where they could pretend to be husband and wife, the calm before the storm. Pretty sure they fucked for the first time, too, but that’s neither here nor there.
“A new bit of the prophecy was revealed. Achilles would become the greatest but he would have to die to do so. It was his legacy to be the greatest. That had been why his mother had taken him away. It wasn’t enough to dissuade him when Oddyseus and friends came knocking. Tricked him into going badass while in a dress. When he tried refusing, they forced Patroclus’ hand as he had performed a blood pact as a child.”
Spock stiffened, “He was—“
“Yeah, I know, it’s barbaric, and he was a kid, still counted for them. When he was still living with his father, when Helen was looking for a husband, men from all round had come for her hand. In order to make sure Helen was safe and there was no bloodshed, Odysseus, who had only come for Penelope, had suggested that all the men there agree to protect her. That was why, when she was kidnapped, Patroclus was duty bound to fight for her.
“Achilles offered to lie for him. The man who hated lying was willing to do it because he knew Patroclus, his philtatos, ashayam, detested war. When they were training with Chiron, Patroclus, yeah, fought, but his focal point had been healing. In the end, they both agreed to go to war. There was a moment where Patroclus tried to keep their relationship a secret so Achilles' legacy wouldn’t be tarnished but his boyfriend wouldn’t have any of it.”
Jim scrunched his nose up at the term. There were times when human words, or Standard, simply failed to capture the essence of a relationship. For himself and Spock, boyfriend or partner or husband would be more than adequate but Jim adored it when Spock would call him T’hy’la, especially in public.
Though, nothing could beat that time where Spock had decided to torment his father during a diplomatic meeting by calling out to Jim “T’hy’la, attend”. Apparently that must have meant something to their family because Sarel had become progressively more embarrassed as time continued.
Jim would never forget his face when he decided to call out to Spock.
“It was revealed that Achilles would die after killing Hector. Patroclus made him promise to never kill him and Achilles agreed because— because, what had Hector ever done to him ?”
That fucking line .
“The war was long and hard. Patroclus gained a friend, Briseis, who Achilles was jealous of because she was attracted to Patroclus. And, Briseis, it wasn’t that she disliked Achilles, she was just objective about him and was willing to point out his flaws to his face so he could change unlike Patroclus who would gently nudge him in the right direction. Made things very challenging but it was fun.”
Depending on who Achilles and Patroclus were in this metaphor, Bones and Uhura fit the bill for Briseis perfectly.
“Then came the final piece of the prophecy: the best of the Myrmidons will die while Achilles is alive. At the time, they had not known it was another bit of their puzzle and had thought it useless. They thought they already knew of Achilles’ fate, had prepared for it, that this was going to be useless in the grand scheme of things.”
“And it wasn’t.” Spock surmised.
Jim leaned up to reward him with a kiss.
Okay, maybe it was a bit of pity for what was to come.
“It wasn’t.” Jim agreed. “There came a day when Agamemnon insults Achilles and steals Briseis. Achilles, proud as he was, said he would refuse to continue to fight in the war until he was apologised to. He didn’t even go save Briseis. Patroclus had to. And days went on and the tides changed. They were losing. And, still, Achilles refused to fight.”
The series of events were similar to what had happened—
What happened with—
Khan—
“Patroclus couldn’t take it anymore. He thought the men were losing morale so he convinced his lover that if he could pretend to be him, then the others could fight with renewed vigour. It took a bit but it worked. This time when it came to going to war, Achilles dressed Patroclus and bid him farewell.”
The first strike had been Pike taking the Enterprise away from Jim, bruising Jim’s ego and humbling him. The had been Pike’s—
Pike’s—
Spock’s arms tightened around him.
Then there was Jim’s rage. His pride. Rather than staying out of the war out of hubris, he had forced everyone to stand idly by as he sought to murder another man. Jim had not even considered mercy because how dare—
And Spock had convinced him to stop.
“He didn’t expect for him not to come home.”
The last time Jim had spoken to Spock prior to the warp—
They had been in the corridor and Jim had not touched him but Spock had yanked him back so that they could talk. Jim had all but spilled all his insecurities to Spock before leaving him in a stunned silence.
Jim had…
Jim had staged it as a goodbye.
He had understood that his actions were abominable. Command would take everything away from him, as they rightfully should, and Jim didn’t know when would be the next time he’d get the time to say goodbye to Spock, especially since his first attempt had ended in his own heartbreak from Spock’s hesitation.
Spock’s arms were so tight around his body that Jim was left slightly breathless. Distantly, Jim was aware that Spock had not known that. That he had just revealed another terrifying fact from that terrible time.
Jim thought he would spend the rest of his life apologising for it all.
“You…You, uh, know the rest of the story…”
“They both die. Yes.”
“When Achilles had seen Patroclus’ body, he had moved to kill himself only to realise his weapon was missing because he had given it to Patroclus. It was his reflex reaction to seeing his corpse. He wanted to join Patroclus in the afterlife so that they could be reunited. He went on a rampage that was making history because he was changing fate and the gods had to kill him before it was too late.”
Jim’s nails started to bite into the flesh of Spock’s side as errant thoughts escaped to Jim’s side of their superficial bond. How, after Jim had died, Spock had gone through every path that he could take. He would not allow Jim to go to any place that he could not follow. Could not keep him safe. Even if Jim did not want him there, Spock would always try to protect him.
He had contemplated using his telepathy to get Jim’s mind into his own, through the glass, as the custom of Vulcan’s dictated, so that he might keep a piece of Jim for the rest of his own life—which would be short because how could he ever live without Jim?
It wasn’t even in the literal sense but in the metaphoric. Jim had been the one to show Spock how to live rather than going through everyday like a chore. Would that not disappear just as Jim had?
And, if, perhaps, he died, he could find Jim in whatever place he had found himself. Jim, though strong in his leadership, was prone to fear just as anyone else. He had just said so himself, when he had asked for Spock’s advice. Spock would not have him afraid so he would be there with Jim.
He didn’t want Jim to be alone, either.
Jim was always so alone.
But…
But Khan had killed Jim so logical dictated that Spock would have to kill Khan. Jim would understand. Spock loathed the idea of leaving Jim alone but he had to erase that monster from the universe because what right did he have to be breathing when Jim was not, what right did he have, what r ight did he have, what right did he have—
Spock would discover it. He would bruise and wound Khan’s body, dig into his bones, tear his flesh apart, to find out why the universe deemed him worthy to be the one to take Jim away from him. He would be glad of it, too. Jim must have been in so much pain in his final moments, he was being burned alive, it was only right for Spock to break Khan.
History would be made there; Spock would murder a man with his bare hands, his bare hands , and it would still not be enough because w here was Jim?
“Spock.” Jim choked out. “Spock.”
“I am sorry for ruining your story.” Spock said quietly. There was a slight waver to his voice. “I had known that their story would end like that but I had not expected to…”
“No…” Jim shook his head.
No.
This would not do.
He lifted himself up until he was sitting cross legged, letting Spock still lay against their pillows. Jim had sacrificed their skin contact but he wanted to see Spock. He put his two hands on either side of Spock’s ashen face.
“I didn’t know any of that.” Jim gulped. “I know you were…I know you lost control. I even saw videos. Fuck, Spock.”
Spock sniffed and furrowed his brow, “I can feel that I have not frightened you but you are panicking. Jim, please, it is okay. It’s been some time since then and I do not think like that anymore.”
“No, it’s not okay.” Jim shook his head. “We never even got to discuss it all properly. Spock, talk to me.”
In the year that had followed Jim’s coma, before their five year mission, Spock had eventually broken down a despondent Jim into talking around the six month mark. It had involved a lot of screaming, both coherent and incoherent, and crying, and Spock had held him through it, both a cage and a security blanket.
They had never spoken about what Spock had felt.
“I will admit to being bereft without you.” Spock said hesitantly. “You have once mentioned not knowing what you would do without you. For that moment in time, I had to truly consider what a life without you would involve.”
Spock got up so that he, too, was sitting cross legged. They were facing opposite each other but Jim scooted so that they were sitting beside each other, still facing each other. Spock moved a hand to the back of Jim’s neck and slid it up into his hair to get a good grip on it, pulling him forward so that they might rest their heads together.
“I had lived over two decades without your presence and had made a name for myself but, in the two years I had known you, you had woven our lives together so intimately, I was hopeless in detangling myself. Even in death, you would follow me around; your name would be in textbooks, your face on the news, my very own ghost.”
Jim slipped his hands from Spock’s face so he could hug him around his shoulders. The only life he has considered without Spock had involved potentially comming each other at the end of every day. He had never had to envision a future without Spock, so totally without Spock because there was no physical connection to the dead.
“Ghosts haunt people with unfinished business. Spock, I would never be done with you. I’d find a way back to you. I did, didn’t I?”
Spock shook his head.
“You would have haunted me because I had not taken your confession for what it was.” Spock said. “There were countless times where I could have taken a step into furthering our friendship or even starting a romantic relationship with you, and that I had never once tried. You would have unfinished business with me because I could not accept you until you were gone.”
“Spock.” Jim chided. “What we had before, it was never a compromise or a consolation. I loved it. Yeah, maybe I was pining, but it was hard for it to hurt when I really did love what we had. I wouldn’t have, and still don’t care, if we had never gotten to this point. I would have been more than happy to just sit with you and be your friend. Because, I still am, aren’t I?”
Spock leaned back so that he could look at Jim.
Jim recognised that look. It was his loving look. Because, yeah, Jim’s eyes might get sparkly and he might get this smile whenever Spock was there, and he was pretty sure there was a specific set of eye wrinkles dedicated to his awww, Spock look, but Spock always looked like he was melting.
Though, his eyes kept moving as if he was searching for something.
He didn’t know what that was about.
“I am satisfied with our current relationship.” Spock said slowly. “I, however, find myself greedy, as with all things related to you. Being your friend was a treasure yet I had wanted more and was given a trade in the form of our hearts. I now ask that we may share our minds, permanently. I would bond with thee.”
That gentle look had turned into something fierce with excitement. Spock didn’t even look the slightest bit nervous, as if he knew what Jim’s answer would be and that it couldn’t be anything but a resounding yes .
Because, he must feel it, right? Through their limited contact, he must feel the bubbling happiness that was growing within Jim? That connection between them, they could have that forever. They would have a tie, a literal telepathic tie, to represent their love, not that it would need representing, but Jim would never be alone ever again and Spock would always know he was loved and—
Oh, god, whose thoughts were who?
“Yes, fucking, yes, Spock,” Jim pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’d love it. How are you even real? Oh, god, please, say you’ll marry me, too? In the human way? The, uhh, human way styled after Christians, I suppose?”
“Of course.” Spock said, a small smile on his face. He was glowing. “I would have you in every way possible.”
“This better be your way of saying you want to get married in every Federation planet.” Jim pleaded.
“Perhaps.”
Fucking hell, Jim would have this glorious man in his head forever .
Jim clambered onto his lap and connected their hands and lips together; he was trying to get as much of Spock within him, trying to fill in something inside himself that Spock always knew how to make himself home inside of.
Spock’s hands came to his hips, helping to balance the two of them so they would not tumble back into the headboard, and employed his clever lips onto Jim heatedly, leaving no bit of him spared, travelling down to his neck and shoulders when Jim had suddenly pushed away with the need to breathe.
“You…” Jim gasped as Spock sucked a mark above his pulse. “Want you so bad, please. You have to…”
“As you wish, Jim.”
The only thing Jim wished, something he suspected would always be his wish, was Spock’s happiness. And, from the way Spock was strugggling not to smile into his skin between sucking kisses into him, he was feeling the same.