Chapter Text
Spock is back almost immediately, box in hand. She places it on the bed and crouches on the floor beside it, knees splayed for balance, unselfconscious in her nudity. Jim tries not to stare as she sits up and enters the code into the combination lock. Spock's eyes gleam with curiosity as Jim opens it to reveal the contents.
"Okay," Jim says, again feeling oddly shy. "These are… well, okay, ignore this one, it's kind of a joke." She sets aside a monster dildo she can only take on the best of days. "This could be a good one to begin with," she suggests, pulling out a thinner option. "It's not too thick or too long." Spock raises an eyebrow but says nothing, so Jim moves on.
"This one fits into the harness here, see? I can wear it around my waist to simulate a sort of, uh, reproduction of biological coitus." She's getting herself all flustered at watching Spock take all this in. Spock's eyes gleam with interest and she takes the strap and harness from Jim's hands, examining them, then setting them to the side and looking expectantly back in the box at the final option.
"And oh uh this one is new, I haven't really used it yet. Well, not with a partner." Jim is babbling.
"It is long," Spock observes.
"Yes, it's a double-ended model, for insertion in both partners. And this model is special, you can see it also has this area in the center for external stimulation of one of the, er, users. It uses a biogel to connect to my nervous system and essentially allows me to feel the sensation of penetrating someone."
"This one," Spock says immediately and plucks it from Jim's hand. "How do I proceed?"
"Oh, well … it has a harness too, for better stability, just with a slightly different configuration," Jim offers, reaching to grab it, but Spock beats her to it and somehow has the two connected in record time. "Right," Jim says faintly. "And then I put it on. Or, uh, in. I may need some lubricant."
Without missing a beat, Spock reaches between her legs and brings back fingers coated in thick, clear arousal, with which she coats the end of the strap that's going into Jim.
"Shit," Jim whispers, then hurries to clarify when Spock looks up, "that's so hot."
A faint twitch of Spock's lips. Jim reaches for the toy but Spock has other ideas. With a hand to the chest, she presses Jim backwards, then tugs her to the edge of the bed.
"Oh!" Jim breathes, as Spock positions her with knees up and legs spread. Spock slides one hand under Jim's tailbone to angle her pelvis upward. With the other, she rests the head of the dildo on Jim's already very-sensitive pussy.
"Tell me what to do," she demands.
"Um," Jim says, squirming a little, seeking friction. She tries to think of how to phrase it. "You could start by…" but Spock has apparently plucked the image from her mind, because she begins rubbing the tip of the dildo gently back and forth over Jim's entrance. Jim's body considers the suggestion and decides it's on board, slowly opening to let the fake cock press inside. It's fairly girthy and without being fingered first, she feels the stretch keenly. It's delicious. Jim realizes she's gotten very loud the further in Spock's gotten and opens her eyes (when had they closed?) to see Spock's hot gaze on her, fascinated and hungry and pleased.
Finally, finally, the cock slides home, bottoming out at some exquisite spot near Jim's cervix. The external cross-section molds itself to cup Jim's body, pressing firmly between her folds and around her clit with soft cool gel and hundreds of short flexible cilia. She whimpers, thrusting briefly up to grind against it as Spock holds it in place.
But Spock is otherwise focused. "Not yet," she says, and pushes Jim back down with a hand on the plush curve where Jim's belly meets her hip, holding her still. Jim lets out a noise between a gasp and a groan and Spock briefly pauses, raising an eyebrow at her in a look that suggests she's cataloging this reaction for later.
For now, though, she helps Jim into the harness straps and secures them around her body, following Jim's semi-coherent instructions about making sure the toy is braced correctly and nothing is too loose or too tight. Part of the reason Spock is such an excellent first officer is that she's so competent — Jim never needs to worry about her figuring things out, even with very little direction, and it appears that carries over to the bedroom. Jim tamps down a faintly hysterical laugh so she doesn't have to explain her train of thought.
"Okay," Jim says when everything is in place. She rolls up onto her knees, feeling the mixture of foolishness and arousal that comes from having a cock suddenly bobbing out from her body. "If you want to lie—"
"No," Spock says, crawling up onto the bed, and bearing Jim down backwards. She straddles her hips and rubs her pussy along the length of Jim's new dick. Jim's eyes roll back in her head at the combination of sensory feedback: the sensation of slick friction relayed to her clit while the toy is jostled inside her.
"Jim," Spock says hoarsely, sounding desperate.
"Yeah," Jim says, grasping Spock's slim hips to help her rise up on her knees. "Yeah, sweetheart, I've got you." She releases one hip to steady the cock, rubbing it up and down Spock's lips, tapping the head against her clit.
"Jim," Spock says, stern, but it's undercut by her breathlessness. Jim sends a smile up at her, somehow feeling mischievous and soft all at once. She guides the strap to Spock's entrance and encourages her to rock herself gently back and forth, working her way down on it.
Spock's "oh" as the head pops fully past her entrance is a sound Jim wishes she could record and listen to forever. A fleeting thought, distracted as she is by the sensation of tight, hot pressure around her clit, the quickening slide as Spock works the cock inside herself.
"Fuck," Jim is saying, both hands again at Spock's waist. "Spock, Spock." Spock seems to understand Jim has nothing in particular to follow that with or else is too distracted by her own experience to respond. Her eyes are closed, head tilted slightly back and she looks— rapturous.
Jim doesn't expect Spock to get more than half of the toy inside herself, given that it sounds like this is her first go, and sure enough, Spock pauses halfway down, breathing hard, eyes fluttering open to meet Jim's.
"That's good," Jim gasps. "You're doing so good. How do you feel?"
Spock nods absently, gaze distant like she's cataloging sensations. "I want…"
"This?" Jim suggests, using the pressure of her fingers on Spock's torso and pelvis to urge her slightly upward, then back down: once, twice, three times, speed gradually increasing. Spock's face lights up.
"Yes," she growls, and takes both Jim's hands in hers, twining their fingers together and pinning them to the bed above Jim's head. Jim lets out a choked cry, hips bucking up involuntarily, and before she can apologize, Spock lets out a pleased sound in response.
She bends low over Jim, joined at fingers and cunt, and kisses her. Long and slow and deep. Jim is gasping when Spock relents, for more than just air. She can feel inexplicable tears trying to gather behind her eyes and ruthlessly forces them away. Instead, Jim tries to put all the wonder and affection she feels into her gaze, her tone, when she whispers Spock's name, brushes their noses briefly together.
"Ashayam," Spock whispers back, brushing their lips together just as briefly. Her hips have begun to rock, sliding up and down Jim's dick, taking her deeper every time. Jim groans and tries to thrust upward for more, but Spock's weight leaves her helpless. She feels her walls twitch, getting even wetter at the thought.
Spock rests the side of her sweaty face against Jim's, the meld points at their foreheads and cheeks touching, and with no warning, Jim is in a liquid place of pure thought and emotion, of everything Spock.
You like the idea, comes the thought. Being helpless to me?
Jim feels the ripple of her own embarrassment and arousal dispersing outward in all directions.
Yes, she thinks. No use hiding it.
Good, says Spock, the thought coming through as a growl. You are mine. You will be helpless to no one else.
A rapidfire flicker of images: Jim herself from across rooms and tables, smiling and leaning close to various men and women and beings; diplomats and scientists and- oh. They're all people she's flirted with or slept with while Spock was nearby and that rotten citrus flavor is the taste of jealousy. Followed by the dead fish odor of embarrassment. Shame.
Oh, she breathes. I didn't know.
A sense of anger rolls through Jim and it takes a moment to realize Spock is directing it inward, furious with herself. So much control lost tonight.
"No," says Jim, and realizes she's done so aloud. She tries to direct Spock's attention to the blossoming sense of wonder she feels, lemon yellow and buttercup-colored.
Me? she asks, shy.
Of course you, is the tone of Spock's reply, if not in so many words. Her mind feels bright with certainty.
I didn't know, she thinks again. You're so— I didn't think I could ever—
Fond annoyance wrapping around her, sweet and sharp, a spicy rim on a cocktail glass. An audible whimper from Spock's mouth, hot breath on Jim's jaw, and her attention flickers momentarily back to the real world. She realizes Spock has done it, has taken the strap's entire length inside herself, their bodies now flush together through the thin barrier of the toy where it cups Jim's pussy.
"Oh, good girl," Jim whispers, and tries to brace her feet on the bed for leverage, to thrust up. Quick as anything, like they're sparring in the gym, Spock uses her legs to pin Jim's, too.
"Fuck," Jim says, embarrassed that it comes out as a whine, and she wriggles for the pleasure of it. "God, you're perfect," she says, and Spock's pleased emotional response sends her tumbling back into their shared mindspace. It glitters, a pulsing golden feeling coming from Spock herself, building and building.
We should have done this last week, Jim thinks giddily. Or a long, long time ago.
The radiance of Spock's feeling throbs even brighter and then she's kissing and kissing Jim, hips pumping as she rides her. Jim kisses back with every particle of her being, trying to pour all her wordless emotion into it, and somehow she can still feel Spock, can feel the white-gold light of sunrise continuing to intensify in her mind, Spock's joy twining with her own, their bodies touching above and below and inside and out and Jim's mouth opens in a wail, her back arching, her whole being subsumed as she comes and comes and comes.
=-=-=
"… Is my weight causing you discomfort?" Spock says, a long time later. She had orgasmed as soon as Jim had and they'd collapsed in a sticky, satisfied heap.
"Mmm," Jim says, without opening her eyes. "No. I like it."
Spock grunts and doesn't move. Another long pause as Jim drifts in and out of wakefulness and then she starts chuckling.
Spock pushes up onto her elbows, just far enough to raise an eyebrow at Jim.
"Just thinking," Jim says, smiling up at her. "This would be a truly terrible time for a red alert."
"Indeed," Spock says, with the longsuffering air of having to put up with inscrutable human humor, but her eyes are twinkling.
"I should probably pee," Jim says with a yawn. "So should you. It can help prevent infection." Spock raises an eyebrow again, then frowns, distracted as she slowly lifts herself free of the toy. "Well, in humans at least." Jim grins. "You can ask Bones about the implications for Vulcan anatomy."
Spock shoots her a look, kneeling beside Jim and carefully unfastening the harness. "I will be sure to schedule that conversation imminently." She eases the toy free of Jim's body. Jim hisses a little as it pulls free, then tugs Spock back down to rest her head on Jim's shoulder.
"Thanks," she says, carding her fingers through Spock's hair. It's just as silky as it's always looked. "How are you feeling?"
Spock considers. "Better. Though I am unsure if this is just a temporary reprieve."
"Well, if so, we know how to handle it," Jim says. She smirks, dropping a kiss on the crown of Spock's head. "And I haven't even shown you the collection of vibrators I could use on you."
Spock pushes up on one elbow to look at Jim. "Inefficient. Did you not notice?"
"Hm?"
"I could only achieve release when you did," Spock says.
Jim's mouth falls open as she tries to think back over the past few hours. "Is that typical?"
"Only during pon farr," Spock says. "The telepathic feedback is necessary for … reaching completion." Jim stifles her smile at the brief awkward pause. "Which is needed to resolve the fever."
"Wow," Jim says.
Spock ducks her head. "Also, I find it most agreeable."
Jim starts to grin. "Orgasm? Or making me orgasm?"
"The latter," Spock says, a little stiffly.
"You really are perfect," Jim says, and rolls them over, kissing Spock until she's forced to stop by her own jaw-cracking yawn.
"If you use the refresher now," Spock points out, "then you may sleep."
"Great point," Jim says, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, with another yawn. "Remind me to put a commendation in your file for strategic thinking."
Jim stumbles happily to the bathroom, enjoying Spock's amusement and sense of contentment as she tidies the bed, replacing blankets, pulling on clean pajamas, and putting away Jim's collection of sex toys. A ripple of jealousy and intrigue as she does so, thinking about others Jim may have used them with.
Jim's washing her hands by that point and only then does it strike her sleepy, sex-drunk brain that something is … very wrong. Followed by a surge of alarm from Spock, in response to Jim's surge of alarm.
Jim wraps a robe around herself and opens the door to Spock's room.
"Spock," she says slowly. "Why can I sense what you're thinking, even though we're not in a mind meld?"
Spock is frozen in place, staring back. Slowly she puts down Jim's box and sits heavily on the bed.
"Jim," she says, all the happiness abruptly stripped from her demeanor. "I believe I have made a grave mistake."
"What is it?" Jim says, stomach roiling. She moves to sit beside Spock, who looks like someone just walked over her grave. She's staring unseeing at the floor with an expression that means her mind is racing and Jim has to call her name twice to get her attention. She turns a blank face to Jim, mind still clearly a million light years away. Jim finally has to resort to protocol to snap her out of it. "Commander," she says, a little sharply. "Report."
Spock takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders.
"I believe we— may have created an inadvertent link between our minds."
"All right…" Jim says, searching her face. She could have guessed that. "Can we… disconnect?"
Spock squeezes her eyes briefly shut. "Link is, perhaps, not the most accurate term. 'Bond' might be more appropriate."
Jim sucks in a breath. A bond. Like Spock had had with Stonn. "A… betrothal bond?" Jim asks. Spock starts to nod, then pauses and shakes her head.
"…Not as strong as a betrothal bond?" Jim clarifies.
Spock's voice is a whisper, her face miserable. She won't look at Jim. "Stronger than a betrothal bond." A lurch in Jim's chest. "I am sorry, Jim. You must believe me: I did not know this could happen."
This isn't enough to work with. "Say more," Jim says.
Spock closes her eyes again, keeping them shut as she talks. "As children, we are bonded with the aid of a Vulcan healer, a mind adept, who creates the link between our two telepathic centers. This is what I had with Stonn and what was— forcibly severed via the kal-if-fee." Jim feels another surge of protective rage and Spock's eyes pop open, looking at Jim in surprise. Ah, yes. ecause she's broadcasting all her emotions on an open channel.
"You are angry," Spock ventures.
"Of course I'm angry," Jim says, staring at her. "What he did to you was horrible. What they all did to you. Rejecting you? Publicly? When you were in such a bad state? T'Pau forcing the fight to go ahead? I'm livid. I'd strand them all on an ice moon if I could." Spock looks back down at the floor, lips pressed together, but Jim can sense that she is… surprised. And moved. Jim focuses harder and realizes it's at the idea of Jim wanting to protect her.
"You don't think I want to protect you?!" she blurts, laying a hand on Spock's, and at the skin contact, the sensation of their connection feels like a staticky comms channel suddenly snapping into a crystal sharp link. Spock's head jerks up and they stare at each other. Slowly Jim pulls her hand back and swallows. "Okay," she says. "Go on."
Spock straightens her back and squares her shoulders. "I had assumed that a bond could only be formed via the assistance of such a mind adept. Or perhaps between two individuals who were powerfully advanced telepaths in their own might."
"But I'm human," Jim says dumbly.
"I am at a loss to explain it," Spock says. "For a bond to spontaneously form… I have never heard of it happening, except in— I have never reliably heard of it happening."
Jim's eyes narrow. "Except in what?"
Spock's face remains impassive, but Jim can tell she's intentionally sharing a sense of fond, unsurprised chagrin at Jim's perceptiveness. (A feeling of her own that Jim's been trying to ignore grows louder: it says she could get used to this kind of back door access to everything Spock. She shoves the thought away.)
"I have never heard of it happening except in fairy tales," Spock says.
"Vulcans have fairy tales?"
"Of course," Spock says. "Recall how relatively recently Surakian logic became a mainstay of our culture."
"… and fairytales, in some form or other, are one of the common factors found in nearly all advanced civilizations," Jim muses, the fact bubbling up from one of her favorite Xenoanthropology courses at the Academy. She shakes her head to clear it. "What do they say about this? The Vulcan fairytales?"
Spock pauses, eyes on Jim, like she's choosing what to say. "There are stories of warrior companions in the days of old. Friends who fought and drank and traveled at each other's sides, who understood each other innately." Spock's words are slow and measured in the quiet room, still lit only by candlelight. "Who were so well suited that they grew closer than brothers. Closer even than lovers." With each sentence, Jim feels something dawning in her chest, restless, huge.
Spock goes on, voice quiet, eyes fixed on Jim. "The stories say these warrior companions became so close that their very minds and souls entwined." She hesitates for only a moment. "And the way they knew it was so was from the bond that grew up between them, unbidden, and linked them together. Forever. Through all their lives and beyond."
Jim can't breathe.
"Spock," she says, voice choked. She wants to ask how this can possibly be true, but she can feel the sincerity pouring off of Spock, along with the same mixture of fear and awe that Jim feels herself.
Slowly, Spock extends two fingers toward Jim, a gesture she saw Spock's parents make dozens of times. Hesitantly, Jim rests her own two fingers atop Spock's, fingerprints touching.
Again that lightning feel of everything coming sharply into focus: an answering sense of wonder and want.
Spock's eyes are warm on hers, her voice just as warm when it echoes in Jim's mind.
They were called t'hy'la.