- Text Size +

Spock staggered and had to put a hand against the wall to steady himself. His entire being was zeroed in on the man on the other side of the door. With one hand still resting on the wall to support his weight, he managed to take the four steps that led him closer to that presence. As close as he could get. He half leaned against the door, one hand clawing at it. He opened his mouth, tried to form the words that would let him touch, but nothing came to mind. His throat felt raw, as if he had been screaming or crying, and all words but the most important escaped him.

T'hy'la.

Suddenly the door slid open and Spock almost fell through the doorway. The only thing stopping him was the sight of the man, and instead of tumbling over Spock grabbed hold of the door-frame. His vision was blurry and he stared without really seeing, only knowing. Every fibre of his being recognized this man.

The man in return was staring back. "Spock! Oh my god, you..."

The unimportant words were cut off as Spock pulled the body towards himself and the door slid shut.

Yes.

The coolness of his t'hy'la was like nothing else. He tried to press himself as close as possible but there were obstacles. Cloth in the way of naked skin. New strength surged through him. Some tearing and, in no time, he had all that naked coolness pressed against his own burning skin.

Sound was coming from the man's mouth; Spock heard no words. That voice was soothing though and he was overcome with gratefulness. The feeling almost overrode his desire, and for a moment the onslaught of them combined made him rest heavily against the body in his arms. A body which wobbled for a moment before long, cool arms came around him.

A soft purr escaped Spock, and he nuzzled his cheek against the sturdy neck. The skin smelled of salt and belonging.

Closer, he had to get closer. His hands roamed over all that perfection. This was belonging, yes yes. A new desperation took Spock on and his hands became more urgent. He struggled for the feelings coming from t'hy'la but they felt weak compared to the weight of his own and he couldn't focus on them.

He needed.

Spock bore them down so they were lying. Yes, this was good; easier. Having all that coolness under him was like nothing else. But he wanted it over him to. Inside himself and around himself. He wanted. And for a long moment he did not know what to do. A soft keening sound escaped him and he was still as he burned.

Then t'hy'la moved. Yes, yes. t'hy'la knew. Spock was anew overcome with gratefulness. T'hy'la guided and showed and Spock was egulfed. Yes, he could have this now and everything else later. He shuddered and pressed as close as he could get, wrapping both arms around the body beneath him. Still, this was not enough. His hands searched the others face. A slight adjustion and he rushed into the ease of another's mind. This mind.

Spock's body and mind simultaneousley moved. His body to seek release and his mind to pour everything he was into his bondmate. He barely registered other feelings than his own; just the most heightened; welcome, love and just under those; pain.

Pain? Even as he rejoiced in the love and welcome, Spock tried to move closer. Without stopping either of his movements, he pressed his mouth against the mouth beneath him. It was no kiss, just a resting of lips against lips; an instinct response to try to soothe.

A pair of hands slid down his hot back and he arched into them even as he continued his desperate seek of release. Finally, finally it came to him seconds later. T'hy'la had brought him this, and with the release, love absorbed Spock.

Afterwards Spock did not remember much of the physical. He woke up on the fourth morning feeling sore all over. However, this was not as uncomfortable as the wide openness within his mind. He no longer burned, but he had been swallowed up by his feelings for the last few days. Now, he would require long meditation sessions to regain control.

Images came to him. Jim beneath him, head thrown back. Jim on all fours as Spock plowed inside of him. Jim smiling at him. Jim entering him. Jim. Jim. Jim. The images were nothing as to what came with them. Spock tried to discern Jim's reactions but it was difficult; just as it had been last time. However, he could feel someone resting against him. Hear the soft, steady breathing.

Slowly, carefully, as not to disturb, he rolled onto his side. Jim was lying on his front, head pillowed on one arm and the other flung out to the side. There were bruises on his hips, biceps, thighs and buttocks and long scratches down his back. Dried blood on the inside of his thighs which were splayed slightly open.

A deep, all consuming self revolt started in Spock quickly followed by a conjured picture. A memory of waking up to this exact view of his lover seven years prior.

The fever had escalated much faster than Spock had anticipated, quicker than last time. He recalled saying that they would have another six hours, that Jim could go ahead and tell McCoy and finish his shift on the bridge while Spock meditated. They were supposed to have been prepared. Just some preparation and starting before all reason left Spock's mind could have prevented much physical pain. An absolute error on his part. And what about Jim's mind, had Spock...?

Spock could not control his revulsion anymore. He tore his gaze from his bondmate and on wobbly legs made it to the bathroom before his stomach gave up what little contents it had. Semen. Water. Bile. The water Jim must have made him drink at some point, he thought absently. He felt dizzy, letting his head hang as he steadied himself with both hands on the toilet's seat.

A couple of seconds later a hand came to rest upon his neck. Spock shuddered. He was not worthy...

There was a hiss of pain and Spock's head flew up to see Jim gingerly lowering himself to the floor. The spinning in Spock's head grew worse.

"Jim, you should not -"

He was cut off by a soft 'hush', and then familiar arms wrapped around him. He did not deserve this. After what he had done...

"Spock. Spock. Focus on me." The arms tried to drag him closer. "What am I feeling, Spock?"

It took almost a full minute for Spock to see beyond his own feelings and take in Jim's. Normally, he had no problem with this as long as they were not in a deep meld. The bond making it easy to discern, and being skin to skin like this made it even more simple. He forced himself to draw in a deep breath and exhale slowly.

Love. Understanding. Love. Pain. Love. Welcome. Love. Tenderness.

"My body will heal, Spock. And being surrounded by your love for me more than made up for that part. I cherish this time, love."

And everything seeping from that cool skin into Spock's warmer one confirmed the words.

They had come through once again. They had survived. They had learned.

And Spock slumped forward into the welcoming embrace.

Fin

Chapter End Notes:

I have always preferred the take that Pon Farr is about violent emotions and not actual violence (even though that was included here too). Thanks for reading!

You must login (register) to review.