Star Trek Fic: Time's Up
Title: Time's Up
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: None for the actual canon, but spoilers for the rest of the Timeverse if you haven't read it yet. Warning for graphic daydreams.
Series: Part of the Timeverse; takes place just before Out of Time
Summary: Ficlet. Spock deals with the onset of pon farr, and the decision it forces.
His first sign that anything was wrong was a mental flash - an image, incredibly an unreally vivid - himself, buried deep inside the captain, possessing him, shoving him against the wall, taking-
Jim looked over at him, sensing his alarm through their bond. Spock stared down at his console, re-establishing his calm. He knew what this was, what it must be. But he would not yet alarm the Captain. He would wait to be certain, wait for further signs he knew would come. It was still possible he might be able to control his urges. Humans, after all, were in heat constantly throughout their lives. They learned to control it and live normally with such urges. Was he not half human? Perhaps the pon farr would be the weaker for it.
The second flash came later that day, walking through the corridor by the captain's side. One moment everything was normal, the two engaged in a conversation about the theoretical possibilities of controlled time travel, the next he saw himself reaching for the captain, taking him forcibly by the arm and dragging him to bed - ungentle, uncaring - throwing him down, destroying his clothing - hot skin, slick sweat, the taste of-
Jim was looking at him with an expression of concern. With some effort, Spock managed to get the hallucination under control. For certainly that was what it was - it was far too vivid to be called a daydream. Not when he could still feel the captain's panicked pulse under his fingertips, feel the triumphant surge of adrenaline at his victory over his mate, his claimed-
"Spock? Spock, are you alright?"
Jim's hand on his shoulder burned, even through the fabric of his shirt. "I am fine, Captain. I fear I have been neglecting the proper amount of sleep as of late. I shall return to my quarters to meditate."
Jim nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Neither of us have been getting enough sleep lately, I'd say. What with that business with the cannibals, and then the political fallout... I still get the chills thinking about it."
"The cannibalism, or the politics, Captain?"
Jim grinned at him, that personal, affectionate grin that he got whenever Spock amused him. The sight of such a smile normally gave Spock a pleasant, warm feeling of accomplishment, but now... now it was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing that face, that beloved face, and kissing the smirk right off him, devouring him, turning the tables, turning the smile into fear, into submission, into-
Spock turned abruptly and began to stride down the hall. "I will return to duty when I am rested, Captain," he said. He knew from experience that if he lingered the Captain would attempt to entice him to a chess game, and he was in no condition for such a thing. He strode to his quarters without a backwards glance. From the bond he felt mild confusion at Spock's abrupt behavior, but no anger nor resentment.
No, none of those emotions yet. But if Jim knew what Spock was thinking, what he wanted to do... such disgust and condemnation would surely follow.
He did his best to avoid the Captain for several days thereafter. It was not an easy task - they were often on the bridge together, and were accustomed to spending any personal time they had free in one another's company as well. The bridge time Spock refused to shirk - he would not neglect his duties simply because it caused him difficulty in controlling himself - but he made what excuses he could to get out of the personal interaction. It helped that he was in the middle of a large, intensive project regarding the theoretical speed cap to a warp drive. Research, or highly-controlled experimentation, was always a good excuse.
Nevertheless, he still felt guilty as he sat himself down to meditate in his room. It was getting too difficult to contain. He would have to tell Jim soon. The bond would have to be severed, before it could be consummated.
The thought made newfound desires in him - hot and pacing his blood like a tiger - howl and tear at him in pain and anger. The bond should NOT be severed. It should be fixed. It should be consummated, the mate conquered and consumed, brought into himself and made his. Jim was HIS to do with as he pleased, and he was weak to even think otherwise!
Spock took a deep breath, and began to recite the table of powers in his head. He would conquer these drives. He was stronger than they. The body was but a shell for the mind, and he would not be victim to mere hormones in his bloodstream.
Spock was not human and as such he had not deluded himself - like a human, like the Captain - that this day would not come, that the dissolution of their bond would not eventually become a necessity. The facts, very simply, were these:
Fact 1: Jim was the one person best suited to be his mate, logically and personally. They worked well together as a team, they were an efficient couple, and Jim was the only person with whom Spock felt completely comfortable - human or Vulcan. More than merely comfortable - Jim understood him in a way no one had before in Spock's entire life, save perhaps his mother. Jim saw down into the depths of Spock's katra, and neither denied nor discarded any element he found there. Jim was his ideal mate, and Spock wanted him, wanted him so, so badly- (No. That was the pon farr talking. But the rest stood true nevertheless.)
Fact 2: He was not the ideal mate for Jim. Jim was human, and as such required someone more emotionally compatible and supportive than Spock could ever hope to be. Humans, as a general rule, did not thrive in emotionless environments, with a few rare exceptions. Even his own mother, as adapted as she'd become to Vulcan life, had never quite fit in on their planet. Furthermore, Jim greatly preferred females to males in his sexual encounters. A sexual relationship with Spock, particularly one in which Spock was the aggressor, would go against the Captain's natural inclinations. He would eventually become dissatisfied.
Fact 3: Spock's emotional investment in his mate was not as important as Kirk's. What Spock needed most of all was an outlet for pon farr, and nothing more. A dissatisfactory marriage, or at least a less-than-ideal one, had been what he'd always imagined he'd have from the start. At best he'd anticipated his partner being someone with whom he might share thoughts and work or live comfortably. He had never presumed he would have a mate who would truly know or understand him the way that Jim did. The Captain, on the other hand, would care very much who his mate might be. Human relationships were built on a solid foundation of trust and affection, and Jim must have an ideal partner to be truly happy - more than that, he deserved the best. He deserved to be happy with a mate, when he finally found one that suited him.
Based on this information, the only possible result was clear. Spock would have to let the bond be terminated. It was not what he wished to do, particularly since the onset of the pon farr, but it was necessary. It had always been necessary. And Spock was quite good at doing what was necessary.
But... a very un-Vulcan urge nudged at him, demanded his attention. What could it hurt, a little indulgence? It was the pon farr in him - hormones, he knew, little more, but such a strong urge. A little fantasy, perhaps. Could that really hurt? Perhaps it might even help. Perhaps it would take the edge off, if he just imagined-
Like an unstoppable rockslide the images came, fingers tangled in hair, knees buried in hot sand, fingers sliding, urging, lifting hips, hot slip of skin in sweat and velvet softness around- sudden! Heat! Tight!
Spock gasped and abruptly cut off the mental images. Too much. It was too dangerous to indulge, even a little. He would have to end it, as soon as possible. He'd have to tell the Captain right away, or they would not make it back to the colonies in time. His father was on the colony of Remus. If they laid course in now, they'd be there in - Spock's calculations were quick and efficient - 8.1 days. Enough time, but only just.
It should be now. It must be now. Spock took a deep breath. The longer he let the pon farr go on, the more his resolve would fail. He knew this.
Spock punched a button on his computer, calling up communications.
Seconds later he heard the Captain's voice. "Spock? What's up?"
Even something so simple as his own name, spoken in that beloved voice, made Spock's skin feel warm and tight all over. It tingled and itched, like electricity humming under his skin.
"Captain. I have a matter of some importance about which I must speak with you. Please come to my quarters when it is next convenient for you."
"Sure, Spock. I'll be over there in a sec. Kirk out."
Spock let his hands fall back into his lap, resuming his meditation. He was as he had been made, no more and no less. His Vulcan half demanded release. His human half loved Jim enough to let him go. Only one possible compromise could be reached. He was Spock, and he had made his decision.
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Read more Timeverse stories
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: None for the actual canon, but spoilers for the rest of the Timeverse if you haven't read it yet. Warning for graphic daydreams.
Series: Part of the Timeverse; takes place just before Out of Time
Summary: Ficlet. Spock deals with the onset of pon farr, and the decision it forces.
His first sign that anything was wrong was a mental flash - an image, incredibly an unreally vivid - himself, buried deep inside the captain, possessing him, shoving him against the wall, taking-
Jim looked over at him, sensing his alarm through their bond. Spock stared down at his console, re-establishing his calm. He knew what this was, what it must be. But he would not yet alarm the Captain. He would wait to be certain, wait for further signs he knew would come. It was still possible he might be able to control his urges. Humans, after all, were in heat constantly throughout their lives. They learned to control it and live normally with such urges. Was he not half human? Perhaps the pon farr would be the weaker for it.
The second flash came later that day, walking through the corridor by the captain's side. One moment everything was normal, the two engaged in a conversation about the theoretical possibilities of controlled time travel, the next he saw himself reaching for the captain, taking him forcibly by the arm and dragging him to bed - ungentle, uncaring - throwing him down, destroying his clothing - hot skin, slick sweat, the taste of-
Jim was looking at him with an expression of concern. With some effort, Spock managed to get the hallucination under control. For certainly that was what it was - it was far too vivid to be called a daydream. Not when he could still feel the captain's panicked pulse under his fingertips, feel the triumphant surge of adrenaline at his victory over his mate, his claimed-
"Spock? Spock, are you alright?"
Jim's hand on his shoulder burned, even through the fabric of his shirt. "I am fine, Captain. I fear I have been neglecting the proper amount of sleep as of late. I shall return to my quarters to meditate."
Jim nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Neither of us have been getting enough sleep lately, I'd say. What with that business with the cannibals, and then the political fallout... I still get the chills thinking about it."
"The cannibalism, or the politics, Captain?"
Jim grinned at him, that personal, affectionate grin that he got whenever Spock amused him. The sight of such a smile normally gave Spock a pleasant, warm feeling of accomplishment, but now... now it was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing that face, that beloved face, and kissing the smirk right off him, devouring him, turning the tables, turning the smile into fear, into submission, into-
Spock turned abruptly and began to stride down the hall. "I will return to duty when I am rested, Captain," he said. He knew from experience that if he lingered the Captain would attempt to entice him to a chess game, and he was in no condition for such a thing. He strode to his quarters without a backwards glance. From the bond he felt mild confusion at Spock's abrupt behavior, but no anger nor resentment.
No, none of those emotions yet. But if Jim knew what Spock was thinking, what he wanted to do... such disgust and condemnation would surely follow.
He did his best to avoid the Captain for several days thereafter. It was not an easy task - they were often on the bridge together, and were accustomed to spending any personal time they had free in one another's company as well. The bridge time Spock refused to shirk - he would not neglect his duties simply because it caused him difficulty in controlling himself - but he made what excuses he could to get out of the personal interaction. It helped that he was in the middle of a large, intensive project regarding the theoretical speed cap to a warp drive. Research, or highly-controlled experimentation, was always a good excuse.
Nevertheless, he still felt guilty as he sat himself down to meditate in his room. It was getting too difficult to contain. He would have to tell Jim soon. The bond would have to be severed, before it could be consummated.
The thought made newfound desires in him - hot and pacing his blood like a tiger - howl and tear at him in pain and anger. The bond should NOT be severed. It should be fixed. It should be consummated, the mate conquered and consumed, brought into himself and made his. Jim was HIS to do with as he pleased, and he was weak to even think otherwise!
Spock took a deep breath, and began to recite the table of powers in his head. He would conquer these drives. He was stronger than they. The body was but a shell for the mind, and he would not be victim to mere hormones in his bloodstream.
Spock was not human and as such he had not deluded himself - like a human, like the Captain - that this day would not come, that the dissolution of their bond would not eventually become a necessity. The facts, very simply, were these:
Fact 1: Jim was the one person best suited to be his mate, logically and personally. They worked well together as a team, they were an efficient couple, and Jim was the only person with whom Spock felt completely comfortable - human or Vulcan. More than merely comfortable - Jim understood him in a way no one had before in Spock's entire life, save perhaps his mother. Jim saw down into the depths of Spock's katra, and neither denied nor discarded any element he found there. Jim was his ideal mate, and Spock wanted him, wanted him so, so badly- (No. That was the pon farr talking. But the rest stood true nevertheless.)
Fact 2: He was not the ideal mate for Jim. Jim was human, and as such required someone more emotionally compatible and supportive than Spock could ever hope to be. Humans, as a general rule, did not thrive in emotionless environments, with a few rare exceptions. Even his own mother, as adapted as she'd become to Vulcan life, had never quite fit in on their planet. Furthermore, Jim greatly preferred females to males in his sexual encounters. A sexual relationship with Spock, particularly one in which Spock was the aggressor, would go against the Captain's natural inclinations. He would eventually become dissatisfied.
Fact 3: Spock's emotional investment in his mate was not as important as Kirk's. What Spock needed most of all was an outlet for pon farr, and nothing more. A dissatisfactory marriage, or at least a less-than-ideal one, had been what he'd always imagined he'd have from the start. At best he'd anticipated his partner being someone with whom he might share thoughts and work or live comfortably. He had never presumed he would have a mate who would truly know or understand him the way that Jim did. The Captain, on the other hand, would care very much who his mate might be. Human relationships were built on a solid foundation of trust and affection, and Jim must have an ideal partner to be truly happy - more than that, he deserved the best. He deserved to be happy with a mate, when he finally found one that suited him.
Based on this information, the only possible result was clear. Spock would have to let the bond be terminated. It was not what he wished to do, particularly since the onset of the pon farr, but it was necessary. It had always been necessary. And Spock was quite good at doing what was necessary.
But... a very un-Vulcan urge nudged at him, demanded his attention. What could it hurt, a little indulgence? It was the pon farr in him - hormones, he knew, little more, but such a strong urge. A little fantasy, perhaps. Could that really hurt? Perhaps it might even help. Perhaps it would take the edge off, if he just imagined-
Like an unstoppable rockslide the images came, fingers tangled in hair, knees buried in hot sand, fingers sliding, urging, lifting hips, hot slip of skin in sweat and velvet softness around- sudden! Heat! Tight!
Spock gasped and abruptly cut off the mental images. Too much. It was too dangerous to indulge, even a little. He would have to end it, as soon as possible. He'd have to tell the Captain right away, or they would not make it back to the colonies in time. His father was on the colony of Remus. If they laid course in now, they'd be there in - Spock's calculations were quick and efficient - 8.1 days. Enough time, but only just.
It should be now. It must be now. Spock took a deep breath. The longer he let the pon farr go on, the more his resolve would fail. He knew this.
Spock punched a button on his computer, calling up communications.
Seconds later he heard the Captain's voice. "Spock? What's up?"
Even something so simple as his own name, spoken in that beloved voice, made Spock's skin feel warm and tight all over. It tingled and itched, like electricity humming under his skin.
"Captain. I have a matter of some importance about which I must speak with you. Please come to my quarters when it is next convenient for you."
"Sure, Spock. I'll be over there in a sec. Kirk out."
Spock let his hands fall back into his lap, resuming his meditation. He was as he had been made, no more and no less. His Vulcan half demanded release. His human half loved Jim enough to let him go. Only one possible compromise could be reached. He was Spock, and he had made his decision.
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