It wasn't until Kirk had his hips pinned to the floor, his shirts pushed up to his ribs and lips pressing lower and lower on his shuddering stomach that his mind caught up with what was going on. Cursing at the ceiling, he gripped Kirk's shoulder with a breathless,

"Stop, please." Instantly Kirk was hovering over him on hands and knees, his face flushed and hair mussed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Spock pinches his lips shut peevishly, trying not to feel annoyed. Endorphins seem to make his mood whip back and forth like the tide, apparently.

"We…have time. It does not have to happen now." Kirk frowns, worry lines bunching in his forehead.

"I…fuck. No, we don't. I'm being shipped off-planet tonight. My mom thinks it'll improve my character. Fuck." The world narrows itself into two very important points at that moment. First, they have no time. Either something happens now, or it may never happen. The odds of Spock staying on-planet long enough for Jim to return are dismal. And second, that he is in love with Jim. Thoughts of T'Pring, of caution and fear, melt.

"T'hy'la," he murmurs, brushing his fingers down Jim's face. His thoughts are chaotic and whirling, an amusing maelstrom compared to Spock's sudden calm.

"Um, what?" Toying with a strand of blonde hair, Spock indulges in a wistful smile.

"T'hy'la. It means…" Words tumble around in his mind, and he picks the three that Standard describes best, "Friend. Brother. Lover." Jim grins, surprised.

"Huh. Tahalya. I like it. It fits." Spock resists the wild grin that threatens to grip him at Jim's horrid pronunciation. Then he frowns, letting his fingers fall into a position that should be forbidden at his age, with someone like Jim.

"Jim. I…I wish to meld with you." Jim frowns, confused, and settles onto his elbows, bringing them much too close for convenient thought.

"I've heard of those. Don't ya…I don't know, rape my mind or something?" Spock flinches at that harsh word, withdrawing his hand slightly.

"No. It is a complete fusion of two minds. A bond would form, that could link us through the distance." Even as he speaks, he plucks at the always-tenuous thread of bond that holds him to T'Pring. A sharp tug answers him, but he begins to sever it, strand by strand. He feels her panic grow as Jim stares at him in awe.

"I…that's really weird. I mean, is it enjoyable?" He shivers, biting his lip as Jim traces his ear with such nonchalance. T'Pring suddenly lets go of their bond. The strands dissolve in a cloud of silver dust, and he feels light, excited by Jim's touch, even more so than before.

"Yes. Very. It is the utmost of sexual pleasures in my culture. But there is one thing. You cannot resist me in any way, or it may not work." The lie- omission, yes, but still a lie- burns on his tongue in a way the others didn't, and he swallows against guilt and doubt. Jim grins and kisses him.

"I'll do my best. How do you-?" Spock stilled him with his hands, then gently pressed against his psi points. A gentle flood of sensation flared, igniting his mind, and he took two deep breaths before plunging in with everything he had.

It was as if he'd been enveloped in every color Jim had ever seen, every memory pouring through a sieve into his mind. It overwhelmed him- he lost all sense of his physical body for a moment, dizzied by the outpouring emotions and instants of remembered sensation. He heard Jim gasp distantly, and then he felt Jim slowly adapt, his consciousness coalescing into a single point of gold. It seeps into him gently, a probe that is neither pleasant nor harsh, simply exploratory. It is a natural struggle against everything he's learned to hold his mind open, but he manages not to snap the bond shut until Jim probes at the always throbbing pain of his mother's death, all of the darker emotions that he has hidden in a black corner of his mind.

He's jerked back into his body by the warm tingling at the corners of his eyes, and nearly curses to himself. His control slips more and more these days, evidenced by his earlier display. Jim is staring down at him with steady bright eyes, and he doesn't quite squirm.

"That's intense," Jim mutters, trailing his fingers across Spock's, where they still rest on Jim's cheek. He licks his lips, arousal a sudden impatient burn in his body.

"Yes. But there are more…pleasing results that can be had." He grips Jim's belt loop and yanks him down off his knees, so their bodies align in a hum of touching skin and scraping denim. As they kiss, he delves once more into Jim's mind, but this time he searches for one thing, the knot of nerves in the human brain that control pleasure. He strokes it with a gentle touch, and Jim's hips jerk down into his, eliciting a breathy noise from him that he hides in Jim's kiss.

It's a natural progression as Jim pulls his clothing off with hurried hands and an eager mouth, the cold floor a slight distraction as Jim's hands explore his thighs, teasing skin that has never been touched by another person. He swallows and pulls at Jim's clothes, stupid in arousal, until Jim sits up and pulls his shirt over his head in a ripple of movement. So much alien pink skin, and in a flash he has Jim pinned and writhing as he shucks off his jeans. There are no undergarments, and he finds this oddly stimulating.

The decision to be submissive is a lightning-quick precaution, and he snatches the condom Leonard pressed into his hand out of his pants pocket and fumbles it down Jim's erection. He makes a move of intention, but Jim is grabbing his hips and panting, shaking his head.

"Wait, just wait a second. You can't barrel into this shit, you have to…prepare! I…fuck, you don't know anything about this, do you?" A coloring of uncertainty hits him as he sits back on his heels, and Jim grins a little shyly.

"Don't worry about it. I'll handle it." Jim throws his weight at him suddenly, and he falls back in a reflexive dodge. Jim catches the back of his head just before it bangs off the floor, and he lays back as Jim presses his weight onto him.

Jim is thorough and aggravatingly slow as he strives to kiss every inch of him. It isn't until Jim nuzzles against his hip and laughs huskily that he realizes his intention, and he wonders whether he should voice his discomfort. It's not that he doesn't want that from Jim, but humans have flat incisors meant for cutting…

He jumps in both panic and fear when Jim giggles and attempts to swallow his erection whole. Through the bond that shimmers with pleasant static, Jim digs impatiently through his mind, bumping clumsily against his nerves, looking for something. Panting, Spock struggles to relax and guides him towards what he's looking for.

Pleasure spikes hot, hard and fast when Jim finds the cluster of nerves, and the amount of stimulation he requires to ejaculate is pathetic. Swallowing quickly, Jim makes a contemplative face, but doesn't say anything. As Spock struggles to regain his breathe, Jim slicks a finger and presses slowly into him.

It doesn't hurt, but it isn't quite satisfying either. Besides orgasm, Spock can't really comprehend why people, especially humans, seem so obsessed with an action that isn't all that-

"Thinking like that around me will earn you the most painful orgasm ever," Jim murmurs in a cheery, singsong voice. Spock starts, both at the words and the second finger he adds.

"Was I projecting my thoughts?" Jim hums in agreement, and reaches up to tangle their fingers together. It's an oddly sweet gesture, and through it, Jim strives to tie their minds together.

It's easy, a slide of connection, a tangle of emotion that's so similar it could be either of theirs. Dark and light that merges to grey, memories that ring with familiarity. A press of fingertips and a clench of muscles, wet gasps in a lonely room. Loneliness that clings like cobwebs on everything, melting in the face of gold.

Spock comes to slowly. He and Jim lay on the floor next to each other, both panting and damp with sweat. Jim peels the now-used condom off and flings it to the ceiling. It sticks.

"That is disgusting," Spock says slowly. Jim giggles, rolling over and draping himself quite lazily over Spock. It's warm and they are both content in each other, even if neither of them will admit it. Finally, Spock forces himself to acknowledge the time.

"Jim, it is 0358 hours. I must return to the library." Jim frowns and leans over him again. In those blue eyes lies an understanding, and a promise. In a way, this afternoon, their broken parts have been traded. Not fixed, in any way, but now that the other holds the pieces, maybe they can make them fit back together.

They both go back to the library, holding hands and with their clothes slightly askew. Spock has completely lost one sock, and does not mind in the least.

Chekov, Uhura and Leonard are playing poker, and give them all lecherous grins. Jim blushes around his grin and starts giving Leonard tips, because he's losing ferociously but doesn't want to quit.

Pike comes in to kick them out a 1.63 minutes late. They all whine at him good-naturedly as they gather their things and bundle against the sea breeze that will no doubt be blowing through the city.

They walk through the hall in companionable, grieving quiet. Chekov pauses to say hello to Sulu, and the janitor and Jim share a joke.

Outside, five cars wait for them. They stand on the top of the steps and share forlorn looks. Uhura suddenly reaches out and seizes all their hands, lining them up. She digs through her bag until she surfaces with a pen and scribbles a com number on all of them.

"If you bitches don't call me within the month, including you, Kirk, I will hunt you down." With that she grins at them all, hugs Leonard and Chekov at the same time, kisses Kirk on the cheek and salutes Spock, then dashes down the steps and into her father's grey hovercar. After a moment, it departs. They all wave.

Chekov is next up, murmuring his goodbyes and grinning. As he trots down the steps, he turns back.

"Spock, you must teach me zhat theorem in AP Phyzics on Monday!" Spock nods and raises his hand in farewell. Chekov bickers with his mother from the sidewalk until she lets him in, and the beige 'car disappears.

Leonard frowns at the other two.

"You two fucking melded, didn't you?" Spock leans much too far into Leonard's personal space, then grins with feral teeth.

"Yes, Leonard, we did." Leonard snorts and backs up a step.

"If he's brain-damaged, I'm blaming you." But his eyes smile warmly at them. He accepts Jim's slap on the shoulder and returns it, then drops down step by step to the sidewalk. He gets into his father's 'car, but it doesn't pull away. Spock eyes his father's hovercar with reluctance and distaste.

"I find that I do not wish to leave your company." Kirk snorts, smirking. But his fingers tighten around Spock's, and there's anxiety written around his eyes.

"Look, I…I hope that this isn't permanent. The move to Tarsus IV, I mean. But if it is…" he glances over at the green and heavily battered hovercar that no doubt waits for him. Spock can see a blonde woman behind the wheel that can only be his mother.

Jim lets go of his hand long enough to pull the long red wool scarf out from under the lapels of his jacket, then steps forward and carefully drapes it around Spock's neck. In the mingling space, he can sense Kirk's worry.

"I will not forget you, Jim Kirk. We are bonded. Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched." The ancient words flow up from some primal part of him, and even if they are unfamiliar, they are appropriate. He latches their hands together again, trying desperately not to remember just the image of Jim's eyes, but the emotion in them, and the emotions they stir in him. Finally he reaches into his bag and pulls out the small, redwood case. He leans forward and kisses Jim tenderly on the mouth, slipping the box into his pocket.

They part reluctantly, but Spock doesn't look back as he descends the stairs. His father looks very blankly livid when he opens the door.

"Spock, what have you done?" He settles himself in the seat and closes the door before looking his father straight in the eyes.

"I have done something that makes me happy. I have bonded with Jim Kirk. And he made me talk." Sarek's surprise is enough to satisfy him, and he tangles his fingers in the warm scarf.


Pike finds the essay on the table after he's rearranged the chairs and is surprised- he didn't think any of them would remember it. In Chekov's spiky handwriting is written,

"Dear Mr. Pike, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we are and what we're going to be. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours,

…The Breakfast Club."


AN: It's over and done with! My NaNoWrMo requirements are fulfilled, as this big fucker is over 30k words long! I'm sorry the sex scene sucked so very, very much, it's one of my worst and I hate it, but I wanted to get it out and done with. I'll go back through the whole thing and fix it later, and I'll also post my painting of Jim on my profile once I finish it. And I am epically sorry that you guys had to wait five days longer than I promised, but I didn't factor Thanksgiving into my calculations at all. Fail. XD

GNOBNG: Thanks for the review! Yeah, the sequel will try to align the ending of this story with the movie, so it'll be a bit difficult, but I'll do it. :D

Elliandra: Oh, wow. I totally phrased that the wrong way last time. I totally think of you as an awesome-cyber-friend-kind-of-way XD. Sorry about your epicly horrendous work conditions, I hope this chapter makes up for it. And I don't need any more awards, as flattering as they are! I'm running out of wall space for them all. XD Thanks and platonic love for all the wonderous reviews, Ellie!

givememybook: Sorry about the confusion, I'll try to work that out when I go through for editing. AND I TOTALLY HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU GOT THAT IMPRESSION. o.0; Thanks for the review!

Spork: Thanks! Hope you like it!

(From Chapter 14) Rufio72: Sorry about bottom Spock, hope it doesn't dissappoint. ;;n;; And you did mess me up, but it's all good. XD Btw, I'm still totally working on your one-shot.

letsplaypretend: Love your Chekov-themed review. XD I use shift because we took this manditory typing class in ninth grade and they taught us to use the shift key. XD

Autumn: I'M SORRY. I hope you'll stick around for the sequel, in which Jim will be submissive. XD

zhen123: Thank you so much, your review means a lot. That was one of the key points I wanted to address with this story, because you're right- they were totally too into their roles in BC. I appreciate that you picked that up. 3

Kaila: Thanks so much for your review, I watched BC like five times during this too. XD

GothicCheshire: Thanks for the review, and I guess that's one of those things we'll have to agree to disagree on. XD I think your use of the word "highly" was an unintentional pun. XD