The Law of Definite Proportions Epilogue
Part I Part II
Spock is fiddling with the innards of an ancient clock radio when the doorbell rings. Jim sets his antique copy of Robinson Crusoe down and lays his reading glasses on it before heading downstairs and opening the heavy wooden front door.
“Hey, Jim.”
He almost doesn’t recognize him. But then, it’s clear, as if he’d just been waiting for this moment for decades - an inevitability.
“Henry.”
When Jim sticks his head into his childhood bedroom, Spock’s got parts strewn all over the floor, and he’s on his knees surveying them with a zealous gleam in his eye.
“Spock?”
A grunt. He’s deep in what Jim secretly calls his science trance.
“I’m gonna go for a little walk.”
Another grunt. Jim assumes he just won’t notice he’s gone.
Henry Chang’s had time to fill out and begin earning the description ‘salt and pepper.’ Jim’s taller than him now by a few inches at least, but the width of his shoulders makes him remember why he spent so much time trailing after him.
“Thanks for coming out, Jim,” Henry says once they’re out from Kirk territory quite a ways. They’re walking side by side along old dirt paths in the cornfields and it feels alien and familiar all at once. “I’ve been hoping you’d come back for a long time.”
“I’m between missions right now, and my mom’s been bugging me for a visit. So.”
“Right. How many missions have you done now?”
“Coming up on our third,” Jim said. “Henry-”
“Look, Jim,” he interrupted him. “I know this is a dick move on my part. Twenty years later, what’s it worth, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But I just. I wanted to tell you. I knew, back then, how shitty what I did to you was. But I was a kid, and a coward. It’s not an excuse, but. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. That I was sorry even when I was doing it.”
Jim shoves his hands into his jacket pockets for something to do.
“What do you want out of this?” he asks. “I don’t have a cookie to give you.”
Henry huffs out a single rueful laugh.
“Guilt’s a funny thing, Jimmy.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m bonded now. Or married, if you prefer. And it’s- he’s good. We’re good.”
“I’m glad.”
“So if you thought I was pining for you all this time or something pathetic like that…”
“I didn’t. I always knew you’d land on your feet, Jim.”
“Just so we’re clear.”
Late autumn in Iowa is a brown affair with a crisp chill and few clouds. The only sound is the wind rustling through the cornstalks. They walk in silence with no particular goal. Then:
“I really liked you, you know? I mean I was head over heels, totally batshit for you. Why did you- How could you do that to me?”
Jim keeps his eyes straight ahead, Henry indistinct in his peripheral vision. He isn’t sure he wants to look at his face when he answers.
“I don’t know, Jim,” Henry says after a long pause. “It’s just what happened, and I can’t understand it now. All I know is I’ve always felt so goddamn awful about it.”
“Christ man, I thought you hung the moon.”
“I know, Jim. I was… I really cared about you too.”
Jim scoffs and shakes his head, straightening his back and bringing his head up to breathe in cool air.
“Some caring.”
“I know.”
Corn husks crackle underneath their boots. Jim stops to look up at the lone cloud and let the sun shine on his face, then he squints at Henry.
“So, you good? Say your piece?”
“I think so,” Henry said.
“And your life? Things okay?”
“I take it day to day.”
“Picket fence? 2.8 kids? 401K?”
Henry snorts.
“Something like that.”
Jim nods, looking at him hard. Trying to figure out how the universe recycled his rough-stubbled, leather jacketed Henry into the black-eyed Henry that broke his heart into the Henry who now stands bowed and apologetic before him. And he realizes that it doesn’t matter at all.
“All right. I’m um. I’m gonna head back. I’m glad you told me. Even twenty years too late. So.”
Henry smiles at him, and it’s a sad, wistful curve of the lips. A long time ago, Jim gave up on thinking about how his life would have gone if Henry had stayed in it, so his imagination stays quiet, and he turns and leaves Henry in the middle of the field. He can find his own way home.
-
Jim leans in the doorway undetected as Spock hunches over his project, his back to the door. Jim doesn’t know if the clock radio will function or even if that was Spock’s goal at all. Maybe he just wanted to take a look inside a piece of centuries-old Terran technology for kicks. Jim lets a smile touch his lips at the flexing back and unwavering focus. He forgets, sometimes, to be grateful. But right now his heart skips and swells, and he steps inside and kneels to join his bondmate on the floor. Spock glances at him and one corner of his mouth quirks up in his approximation of a smile.
“Did you have a good walk?”
“Hm, so you were listening.”
“I always listen, ashayam.”
Jim pulls him by the back of the neck into a kiss, lips open, but only the tip of his tongue coming out to toy with Spock’s. Spock makes a noise of surprise.
“I appreciate your ardor, Jim, but it is only an antique timepiece of little to no monetary value.”
Jim laughs and stands and pulls Spock up with him, then winds his arms around him and rests his chin on a hard shoulder.
“I want you to know that I love you,” he says.
Spock inhales, hugs him closer, and nods into his neck.
“My mom’s not home.”
Jim interprets the breath that puffs over his pulse point as Spock’s laughter, and Spock’s hands slide over his ass and give an admiring squeeze.
Jim cradles the back of Spock’s head in both hands as they indulge in slow, hot kisses. Spock eventually undoes Jim’s jeans and yanks them down his thighs.
“Fuck, Spock,” Jim gasps. “I want you in both my holes.”
Spock growls and pushes Jim onto his back on his narrow childhood bed. On the ceiling are old stickers that glow as constellations in the dark. He moans through a smile when he realizes that he and Spock have fucked in at least four of the star systems represented.
Somehow, Spock’s gotten naked, and he has Jim’s jeans off and his legs up and spread wide. He pushes back the hood of Jim’s cock and Jim whines, straining his neck to see. Spock’s eyes meet his, lit with amusement.
“You enjoy being a cocktease, don’t you?”
“Jim,” Spock admonishes him. “Vulcans do not enjoy anything.” His mouth, minutely but distinctly curving upward, closes over Jim’s cock. Jim shouts, his knee snapping down over Spock’s shoulder and his heel drumming into Spock’s side. Spock hums around his prize and begins a forceful, rhythmic suckling even as he tongues hard at the sensitive underside. Jim’s other knee closes over Spock’s other shoulder and he humps up into the suction, his fingers weaving through thick dark hair.
“Spock, God, you’re so good, sucking my cock. Just like that, Spock, you’re so fucking good.” His utterances devolved into wordless moans as he fondles a sweet pointed ear. His unoccupied hand pushes his tee shirt up and tweaks at an aching nipple. Spock moves Jim’s balls out of the way and plunges two fingers into the molten mess of his cunt, forcing Jim’s back to arch and his voice to crack on a wail. Spock drums relentlessly on the spongy tissue at the anterior wall until Jim’s trashing and swearing.
“Come on,” Jim pants. “I don’t wanna come 'til you’re in me.”
He unhooks his legs from Spock’s shoulders and holds them open. Spock lifts Jim and sets him higher on the bed, then he’s kneeling between his thighs and holding Jim’s dick out of the way as he slides into Jim’s cunt. Jim arches and keens at the sensation of being filled, like the emptiness there before was unbearable. Spock pauses and props himself on one elbow, his other hand going down to cast loving strokes over Jim’s cock. He looks into Jim’s eyes and maintains the contact even as he sets a pounding rhythm. Jim is transfixed, claimed in body and mind, and his mouth opens around his heaving breath and his unfathomable awe.
“Jim,” Spock gasps.
Jim brings his hands up around Spock’s face.
“Never stop,” he pleads. “Never stop.”
Groaning, Spock sucks at Jim’s tongue and his lips and neck, chews on his shoulder and latches onto an earlobe. Jim’s legs tremble around Spock’s back. Between them, Spock squeezes and rolls Jim’s cock until Jim’s thighs are clenching, his toes are curling, and his breath is hitching with impending climax. Jim’s moans increase in volume until his arms lock around Spock’s neck and his entire body seizes up, the orgasm crashing through him hard enough to send a gush of fluid out, dislodging Spock’s dick. Spock thrusts back in but holds Jim steady until he quiets and his bones go limp.
Jim becomes aware of Spock rocking between his legs and nuzzling into the side of his face. Soft sounds escape Spock’s throat, and Jim rubs his hands up and down Spock’s back, laying kisses along his shoulders and on his neck.
“T’hy’la,” Jim murmurs, “honor me.”
Spock moans and takes Jim’s mouth in a fiery kiss, pushing Jim’s knees into his chest as he thrusts harder and closer. He sets his forehead against Jim’s and tells him Jim belongs to him.
“I’m always-” Jim stutters, “I’m always yours, God, Spock, I love you.”
Suddenly Spock pulls out and then Jim’s on his stomach, his tee shirt rucked up around his armpits, and Spock’s tongue is up Jim’s ass without ceremony, and he’s eating him out with ravenous ferocity. Jim gives a strangled shout and pushes up to get him deeper, but Spock replaces his tongue with his middle finger and plumbs him deep.
“Fuck!”
“Momentarily, my Jim.”
Fifteen minutes and four fingers later, Jim’s cock is hard again and Spock’s pushing into his ass as they lie on their sides, their moans coming in tandem.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s good,” Jim groans when Spock sinks in up to his balls.
“Jim you are - ah, you are so pleasing.”
“Give it hard, Spock, come on.”
Spock steadies Jim with a firm hand on his hip and begins pistoning deep into his ass. Jim contorts enough so they can share sloppy kisses between quick breaths and helpless cries. Rough tugs on his hair spur Spock to greater urgency until he flips Jim onto his back and drives back into him with the force of all his strength. Jim shouts and squeezes his eyes shut, sweat trickling from his hairline. His hands scrabble for purchase and find it on Spock’s arms propping him up. He meets Spock’s fevered gaze and feels himself surrender everything that he is to Spock all over again, love rising hot and bright through his whole body.
“Jim,” Spock grunts. “Jim, Jim, my Jim.”
“Come on, Spock. Come on.”
Spock begins to issue obscene guttural moans and Jim knows he’s close. He frames his face in his hands and brings him close for a kiss. Then, Spock’s shouting into his mouth, his hips jerking convulsively as he pours his orgasm into Jim’s ass. When he collapses against him, Jim is whispering devotional nonsense into a pointed ear, his hands running soothing caresses along Spock’s back and shoulders.
Spock rolls off and pulls Jim to lie half on top of him. He cups his cheek in one hand and favors him with that soft look that Jim translates to ‘incandescent happiness.’
“I am, as ever, hopelessly in love with you, also, Jim.”
Jim smiles at him and steals a little kiss.
“Always?”
“Always.”
Jim makes an approving sound in the back of his throat and lays his head on Spock’s chest.
“Jim.”
“Hm?”
“I am of course gratified by your amorous overtures, but I am curious as to what inspired them so suddenly. The cornstalks were particularly striking on your walk?”
Jim snickers and flicks a nipple in retaliation.
“No,” he says. “But I had a visit from… an old friend. It made me realize how lucky I am. Don’t you think I’m one lucky son of a bitch, Spock?”
“Ah. Indeed.”
They lie in silence, breathing each other in.
“Spock?”
“Yes.”
“You freed me, you know. I was… I was alone and caged and you came and freed me.”
Spock shifts onto his side and lays a hand on Jim’s face, tracing a cheekbone with his thumb. His eyes are large and clear, full of love. The sun through the window dapples their bared skin.
“We freed each other, t’hy’la.”
Spock is fiddling with the innards of an ancient clock radio when the doorbell rings. Jim sets his antique copy of Robinson Crusoe down and lays his reading glasses on it before heading downstairs and opening the heavy wooden front door.
“Hey, Jim.”
He almost doesn’t recognize him. But then, it’s clear, as if he’d just been waiting for this moment for decades - an inevitability.
“Henry.”
When Jim sticks his head into his childhood bedroom, Spock’s got parts strewn all over the floor, and he’s on his knees surveying them with a zealous gleam in his eye.
“Spock?”
A grunt. He’s deep in what Jim secretly calls his science trance.
“I’m gonna go for a little walk.”
Another grunt. Jim assumes he just won’t notice he’s gone.
Henry Chang’s had time to fill out and begin earning the description ‘salt and pepper.’ Jim’s taller than him now by a few inches at least, but the width of his shoulders makes him remember why he spent so much time trailing after him.
“Thanks for coming out, Jim,” Henry says once they’re out from Kirk territory quite a ways. They’re walking side by side along old dirt paths in the cornfields and it feels alien and familiar all at once. “I’ve been hoping you’d come back for a long time.”
“I’m between missions right now, and my mom’s been bugging me for a visit. So.”
“Right. How many missions have you done now?”
“Coming up on our third,” Jim said. “Henry-”
“Look, Jim,” he interrupted him. “I know this is a dick move on my part. Twenty years later, what’s it worth, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But I just. I wanted to tell you. I knew, back then, how shitty what I did to you was. But I was a kid, and a coward. It’s not an excuse, but. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. That I was sorry even when I was doing it.”
Jim shoves his hands into his jacket pockets for something to do.
“What do you want out of this?” he asks. “I don’t have a cookie to give you.”
Henry huffs out a single rueful laugh.
“Guilt’s a funny thing, Jimmy.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m bonded now. Or married, if you prefer. And it’s- he’s good. We’re good.”
“I’m glad.”
“So if you thought I was pining for you all this time or something pathetic like that…”
“I didn’t. I always knew you’d land on your feet, Jim.”
“Just so we’re clear.”
Late autumn in Iowa is a brown affair with a crisp chill and few clouds. The only sound is the wind rustling through the cornstalks. They walk in silence with no particular goal. Then:
“I really liked you, you know? I mean I was head over heels, totally batshit for you. Why did you- How could you do that to me?”
Jim keeps his eyes straight ahead, Henry indistinct in his peripheral vision. He isn’t sure he wants to look at his face when he answers.
“I don’t know, Jim,” Henry says after a long pause. “It’s just what happened, and I can’t understand it now. All I know is I’ve always felt so goddamn awful about it.”
“Christ man, I thought you hung the moon.”
“I know, Jim. I was… I really cared about you too.”
Jim scoffs and shakes his head, straightening his back and bringing his head up to breathe in cool air.
“Some caring.”
“I know.”
Corn husks crackle underneath their boots. Jim stops to look up at the lone cloud and let the sun shine on his face, then he squints at Henry.
“So, you good? Say your piece?”
“I think so,” Henry said.
“And your life? Things okay?”
“I take it day to day.”
“Picket fence? 2.8 kids? 401K?”
Henry snorts.
“Something like that.”
Jim nods, looking at him hard. Trying to figure out how the universe recycled his rough-stubbled, leather jacketed Henry into the black-eyed Henry that broke his heart into the Henry who now stands bowed and apologetic before him. And he realizes that it doesn’t matter at all.
“All right. I’m um. I’m gonna head back. I’m glad you told me. Even twenty years too late. So.”
Henry smiles at him, and it’s a sad, wistful curve of the lips. A long time ago, Jim gave up on thinking about how his life would have gone if Henry had stayed in it, so his imagination stays quiet, and he turns and leaves Henry in the middle of the field. He can find his own way home.
-
Jim leans in the doorway undetected as Spock hunches over his project, his back to the door. Jim doesn’t know if the clock radio will function or even if that was Spock’s goal at all. Maybe he just wanted to take a look inside a piece of centuries-old Terran technology for kicks. Jim lets a smile touch his lips at the flexing back and unwavering focus. He forgets, sometimes, to be grateful. But right now his heart skips and swells, and he steps inside and kneels to join his bondmate on the floor. Spock glances at him and one corner of his mouth quirks up in his approximation of a smile.
“Did you have a good walk?”
“Hm, so you were listening.”
“I always listen, ashayam.”
Jim pulls him by the back of the neck into a kiss, lips open, but only the tip of his tongue coming out to toy with Spock’s. Spock makes a noise of surprise.
“I appreciate your ardor, Jim, but it is only an antique timepiece of little to no monetary value.”
Jim laughs and stands and pulls Spock up with him, then winds his arms around him and rests his chin on a hard shoulder.
“I want you to know that I love you,” he says.
Spock inhales, hugs him closer, and nods into his neck.
“My mom’s not home.”
Jim interprets the breath that puffs over his pulse point as Spock’s laughter, and Spock’s hands slide over his ass and give an admiring squeeze.
Jim cradles the back of Spock’s head in both hands as they indulge in slow, hot kisses. Spock eventually undoes Jim’s jeans and yanks them down his thighs.
“Fuck, Spock,” Jim gasps. “I want you in both my holes.”
Spock growls and pushes Jim onto his back on his narrow childhood bed. On the ceiling are old stickers that glow as constellations in the dark. He moans through a smile when he realizes that he and Spock have fucked in at least four of the star systems represented.
Somehow, Spock’s gotten naked, and he has Jim’s jeans off and his legs up and spread wide. He pushes back the hood of Jim’s cock and Jim whines, straining his neck to see. Spock’s eyes meet his, lit with amusement.
“You enjoy being a cocktease, don’t you?”
“Jim,” Spock admonishes him. “Vulcans do not enjoy anything.” His mouth, minutely but distinctly curving upward, closes over Jim’s cock. Jim shouts, his knee snapping down over Spock’s shoulder and his heel drumming into Spock’s side. Spock hums around his prize and begins a forceful, rhythmic suckling even as he tongues hard at the sensitive underside. Jim’s other knee closes over Spock’s other shoulder and he humps up into the suction, his fingers weaving through thick dark hair.
“Spock, God, you’re so good, sucking my cock. Just like that, Spock, you’re so fucking good.” His utterances devolved into wordless moans as he fondles a sweet pointed ear. His unoccupied hand pushes his tee shirt up and tweaks at an aching nipple. Spock moves Jim’s balls out of the way and plunges two fingers into the molten mess of his cunt, forcing Jim’s back to arch and his voice to crack on a wail. Spock drums relentlessly on the spongy tissue at the anterior wall until Jim’s trashing and swearing.
“Come on,” Jim pants. “I don’t wanna come 'til you’re in me.”
He unhooks his legs from Spock’s shoulders and holds them open. Spock lifts Jim and sets him higher on the bed, then he’s kneeling between his thighs and holding Jim’s dick out of the way as he slides into Jim’s cunt. Jim arches and keens at the sensation of being filled, like the emptiness there before was unbearable. Spock pauses and props himself on one elbow, his other hand going down to cast loving strokes over Jim’s cock. He looks into Jim’s eyes and maintains the contact even as he sets a pounding rhythm. Jim is transfixed, claimed in body and mind, and his mouth opens around his heaving breath and his unfathomable awe.
“Jim,” Spock gasps.
Jim brings his hands up around Spock’s face.
“Never stop,” he pleads. “Never stop.”
Groaning, Spock sucks at Jim’s tongue and his lips and neck, chews on his shoulder and latches onto an earlobe. Jim’s legs tremble around Spock’s back. Between them, Spock squeezes and rolls Jim’s cock until Jim’s thighs are clenching, his toes are curling, and his breath is hitching with impending climax. Jim’s moans increase in volume until his arms lock around Spock’s neck and his entire body seizes up, the orgasm crashing through him hard enough to send a gush of fluid out, dislodging Spock’s dick. Spock thrusts back in but holds Jim steady until he quiets and his bones go limp.
Jim becomes aware of Spock rocking between his legs and nuzzling into the side of his face. Soft sounds escape Spock’s throat, and Jim rubs his hands up and down Spock’s back, laying kisses along his shoulders and on his neck.
“T’hy’la,” Jim murmurs, “honor me.”
Spock moans and takes Jim’s mouth in a fiery kiss, pushing Jim’s knees into his chest as he thrusts harder and closer. He sets his forehead against Jim’s and tells him Jim belongs to him.
“I’m always-” Jim stutters, “I’m always yours, God, Spock, I love you.”
Suddenly Spock pulls out and then Jim’s on his stomach, his tee shirt rucked up around his armpits, and Spock’s tongue is up Jim’s ass without ceremony, and he’s eating him out with ravenous ferocity. Jim gives a strangled shout and pushes up to get him deeper, but Spock replaces his tongue with his middle finger and plumbs him deep.
“Fuck!”
“Momentarily, my Jim.”
Fifteen minutes and four fingers later, Jim’s cock is hard again and Spock’s pushing into his ass as they lie on their sides, their moans coming in tandem.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s good,” Jim groans when Spock sinks in up to his balls.
“Jim you are - ah, you are so pleasing.”
“Give it hard, Spock, come on.”
Spock steadies Jim with a firm hand on his hip and begins pistoning deep into his ass. Jim contorts enough so they can share sloppy kisses between quick breaths and helpless cries. Rough tugs on his hair spur Spock to greater urgency until he flips Jim onto his back and drives back into him with the force of all his strength. Jim shouts and squeezes his eyes shut, sweat trickling from his hairline. His hands scrabble for purchase and find it on Spock’s arms propping him up. He meets Spock’s fevered gaze and feels himself surrender everything that he is to Spock all over again, love rising hot and bright through his whole body.
“Jim,” Spock grunts. “Jim, Jim, my Jim.”
“Come on, Spock. Come on.”
Spock begins to issue obscene guttural moans and Jim knows he’s close. He frames his face in his hands and brings him close for a kiss. Then, Spock’s shouting into his mouth, his hips jerking convulsively as he pours his orgasm into Jim’s ass. When he collapses against him, Jim is whispering devotional nonsense into a pointed ear, his hands running soothing caresses along Spock’s back and shoulders.
Spock rolls off and pulls Jim to lie half on top of him. He cups his cheek in one hand and favors him with that soft look that Jim translates to ‘incandescent happiness.’
“I am, as ever, hopelessly in love with you, also, Jim.”
Jim smiles at him and steals a little kiss.
“Always?”
“Always.”
Jim makes an approving sound in the back of his throat and lays his head on Spock’s chest.
“Jim.”
“Hm?”
“I am of course gratified by your amorous overtures, but I am curious as to what inspired them so suddenly. The cornstalks were particularly striking on your walk?”
Jim snickers and flicks a nipple in retaliation.
“No,” he says. “But I had a visit from… an old friend. It made me realize how lucky I am. Don’t you think I’m one lucky son of a bitch, Spock?”
“Ah. Indeed.”
They lie in silence, breathing each other in.
“Spock?”
“Yes.”
“You freed me, you know. I was… I was alone and caged and you came and freed me.”
Spock shifts onto his side and lays a hand on Jim’s face, tracing a cheekbone with his thumb. His eyes are large and clear, full of love. The sun through the window dapples their bared skin.
“We freed each other, t’hy’la.”