A/N: Story structure is nonlinear. I don't know if it worked. I just had to get this out of my system before continuing on with First Contact. Let me know what you think. :)


So this was the Vulcan's secret.

This was why he never allowed himself to be touched.

Emotion transfer cannot be helped, the older version of Spock had said. And even though Kirk had never mind melded with his timeline's Vulcan, he'd certainly touched him.

And then, later, he'd touched him in places he'd never imagined.


Kirk clapped Spock on the back. "I guess we are getting to know each other."

Spock bristled. The captain had violated his personal bubble. And in the short touch, he discerned a deeply-hidden affection. Perhaps he doesn't even know it himself, he thought.

But, now, Spock couldn't stop thinking about it.


"I was jealous of your anger," Spock told him as they sat together in Kirk's large bed, wearing nothing but their skin. "I held my hand to your throat and still you possessed more righteous anger than I had ever been capable of expressing."

Kirk chuckled. "Nah," he said, waving a hand in the air, "you were the one with righteous anger. For God's sake, I was insulting you in the worst ways possible. And committing mutiny."

The corners of Spock's mouth twitched. "And I marooned you on an uninhabitable planet out of pure spite."

"Are you admitting to another emotion?" Kirk teased.

"I have grown weary of rejecting my human side."


The human side which he had embraced entirely when he came to Kirk's quarters two hours ago. There wasn't even a warning for the Captain; the doors sealed and he found himself pressed between the cold wall and Spock's warm body, being explored like a new planet. It had taken him all of five seconds to realize that he liked it, that the nagging feeling that had haunted him since his return from Delta Vega was that hot Vulcan hand around his throat. He wanted Spock, wanted every inch of him. There was no turning back.


"Vulcans are three times stronger than humans," Spock advised as he hovered above his Captain.

"I don't care."

"I could hurt you."

"I don't mind."


"Don't call me Captain. You're the one on top."

Spock didn't know whether to laugh or hit him.

"Alright," said Kirk earnestly, his blue eyes on fire. "Give me everything you've got. Don't hold yourself back. That's an order."

Spock nodded.


A long time ago, James T. Kirk declared that he'd always shoot first and ask questions later. It was his nature.

A Vulcan male, his first officer, slept peacefully beside him.
His body still tingled from the power Spock had shown. Fingertip-shaped bruises adorned his upper arms.

He'd shot first.

But he found, in a moment of brilliant simplicity, that there were no questions to ask.