Three Years Later

Spock has to force himself not to smile as Jim stares around them in awe, taking in Spock's new science officer's quarters. "I can't believe I'm here," Jim says. "The Enterprise. The flagship!" He turns to Spock with a grin. "I knew there was a reason I was dating you."

"I was under the impression it was for the… how did you put it? 'Amazing sex'," Spock replies, raising an eyebrow.

Jim laughs. "Well, that too."

"In any case," Spock continues, "I merely mentioned your name to Captain Pike. It was your own superlative record that got you a position here." Pike had, in fact, seemed quite enthusiastic at the prospect of having Jim Kirk as one of his ensigns.

"And the fact that you wouldn't have left Earth without me had nothing to do with it," Jim says, smiling. "You're not fooling me, you know."

He steps forward and wraps his arms around Spock's waist, kissing him gently on the lips. "I love you," he says softly.

"And I you," Spock returns, letting his affection slip through into his voice and face.

Jim smiles broadly, then takes a step back. "You know," he says, "I looked in the regs, and there's a line in there about how they never separate married couples."

It takes Spock a few seconds to catch on to his meaning, and then he almost can't believe it. "Are you suggesting…?"

Jim nods, beaming. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm ready. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you."

Pure love washes over Spock at the words, and he can't keep himself from stepping forward and kissing Jim. The kiss soon become more heated, and they begin moving towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

Jim laughs as Spock pushes him down onto the bed. "I should ask you to marry me more often," he says, before his words are washed away by Spock's skilful hands.

They curl around each other afterwards, transmitting love and affection wherever their skin touches. Spock strokes his fingers against Jim's gently, imagining the prospect of being fully bonded with him. He finds he cannot wait.

"Do you think," Jim says, "if we hadn't met at the chess club all those years ago, we would've still ended up together?"

The probability is remote, Spock knows. Likely they would have been posted to different ships and never even met. But looking into Jim's eyes, probability ceases to matter. "I think," he replies slowly, "we would have found a way."

Jim smiles.