#protective spock

[gaytricorder]

Captain? Jim? Jim!

[seraph5]

Ancient Fury

Along with Kirk bringing “when my boyfriend hears about this you’re gonna get it” attitude in The Price/Fate of the Phoenix Spock also brings an extremely potent “if you lay a finger on him I will kill you” heat that I am just reveling in.

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 30: Cuddling

Spirktober may be over but it lives on in my heart and also in my NaNoWriMo goals. I am firmly of the belief that Spock would be a HUGE snuggler if not for the repression, so here's a little of that leaking through.

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

The first time that it happened, Kirk laid awake the entire night. Terrified to move and accidentally wake Spock and break the moment, terrified that Spock would read his unshielded emotions in his sleep and learn the depth of his feelings, and terrified that Spock would roll away anyway and release him, he laid as still as he was capable. For the next four hours, he lay perfectly unmoving in the unexpected embrace of his best friend and tried not to think about how much he liked it.

Spock’s chest was pressed to his back, and he felt his even breathing ruffling the shorn hair on the back of his neck. His arm was slung loosely over Kirk’s stomach, fingertips dangling down, barely brushing his stomach when he breathed in. He had rolled over in his sleep --- which was a surprise, because Kirk assumed that he slept in his preliminary corpse-like position until he had rested for precisely the necessary amount of time --- and he had not hesitated before he crossed the middle line of the bed into Kirk’s space. 

They weren’t even supposed to be sharing a bed. There had been a miscommunication of some sort, assumptions had been made between the diplomatic corps and the host planet’s delegation, and Uhura had apologized to them profusely until Spock had said, in his gentle, even tone, “It is of no matter, Lieutenant,” and she fell silent. But now, as Kirk tried not to breathe too deeply or enjoy the sensation too much, he wondered exactly what had been of no matter, because it mattered a lot to him. 

It mattered too much to him, actually. More than was wise, more than was responsible, or appropriate, and it was the only secret he had ever kept from Spock, and as long as he didn’t fall asleep and dream he might still keep it yet. 

When Spock woke up, he was so close to Kirk that Kirk felt his eyelashes flutter against the back of his neck. Spock froze, and Kirk’s heart sank as he gently but firmly extricated himself from Kirk’s personal space and rolled over. He gave Spock thirty seconds to himself before he rolled over as well, pretending to wake up. 

“Hey,” he said. “Morning.” 

“Good morning, captain,” Spock said, sitting on the edge of the bed, not looking at him, and then he fled to the bathroom. As the muted thunder of the sonic shower turned on, Kirk pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and tried not to groan. Intimacy with Spock, even just as friends, was always one step forwards and three steps back. He didn’t want to consider how many steps back accidentally taking your captain in your arms would put them.

☆☆☆

The second time it happened, they weren’t even sharing a bed. The jail cell that they shared was underground, with only a tiny slit in the door to let in the ambient light from the hallway. Kirk, Spock, Chekov, and their security officer, Lieutenant Aisha, had been captured by the leaders of a rebel faction and unceremoniously deposited in the only cell in their so-called stronghold before the door was slammed behind them. They sat for hours, half-heartedly attempting to raise the rest of the crew or the Enterprise on their comms, until Aisha stretched with a jaw-cracking yawn. 

“Shifts?” Aisha asked. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Sulu said. Kirk laid down in the corner, feeling some sort of straw or hay beneath him, and crossed his fingers that he wasn’t about to discover another allergy. In the darkness he sensed movement close beside him, and someone radiated inhuman body heat at him. He was suddenly and electrically aware of the body next to his. He wished he was less tired so he could focus more on how unnecessarily close Spock had chosen to sit, but after the events of the day he could barely keep his eyes open in the dark. 

He fell asleep to the sound of Spock’s even breathing beside him. At some point in the night, he woke up again to movement behind him. A strong arm in Starfleet-grade fabric was sliding across his stomach, pulling him back against a broad chest, long legs entangling with his. Jesus Christ, Kirk thought, as his first officer settled into stillness again. His nose was against the back of Kirk’s neck, his forehead pressed into his hair, and his hand had come to rest possessively over Kirk’s heart. 

The first time had been an absolute surprise. Kirk had never seen Spock so much as give someone a hug upright, let alone cuddle in his sleep. But, as he started to drift off to sleep again, he found that though his mind had not considered the idea, his heart had been hoping that it would happen again. He could feel Spock’s steady heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt, against his ribs, and the heat of his hand scorched his chest in a way that he wished would leave a mark. Despite the terms of their confinement, despite being trapped away from the ship with a fight looming on the horizon, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset about how things were going. He memorized how it felt to have Spock pressed against him, bony ankles digging into his legs, before he fell asleep. 

At some point in the night he because aware that Spock had disentangled himself from him to take a watch shift, and even as he slipped back into sleep he registered that it was cold without him, and he missed him. 

The next time he woke, Spock had tapped him lightly on the shoulder and said, “Your watch, captain,” as he struggled awake. The cell was still dark, and he could no longer determine what time he thought it was, but he sat up and said, “Thank you, Mr. Spock.” He leaned against the wall near where he had been sitting as Spock laid down beside him again, and he resisted the urge to place his hand over Spock’s shoulder. 

Was Spock aware of what he was doing in his sleep? Was it a reflection of his conscious desires, or was it just an instinctive urge to be warm? Was it about Kirk, or was it just about having a warm body nearby? 

Kirk wasn’t sure if he was ready for the answers. For now, as long as he didn’t know, he could indulge the dream that Spock might someday reciprocate his feelings. He replayed the feeling of Spock’s hand resting against his chest, and when their cell door opened a few hours later he gratefully gave himself over to the mindless repetition of fighting and pushed the evening, and his wants, from his mind. 

☆☆☆

Kirk was pretty sure that this was going to be the last time. They had been huddled together in the cave for so long that his teeth had stopped chattering, which could not be a good sign. He knew that the Enterprise crew had to be looking for them, would have started a search party as soon as the ice shelf had crumbled under their feet, but they had fallen quite a ways, and the snow would have already covered their tracks. He thought there was a high chance that they would die in the cave they had found, but the fear that the idea might have inspired was partially dampened by the fact that he was with Spock, and Spock was holding him, and they were both awake. 

His head was tucked under Spock’s chin, and he was essentially in his lap, with Spock’s arms wrapped around him. They had fortunately had their packs with them, and had layered all the spare fabric and emergency blankets they had over the both of them. Spock’s body heat had originally warmed them both, but as the hours passed the heat leached away until they were clinging to each other and trying not to think about the inevitable. Kirk’s body had passed the point of feeling painfully cold and was no longer feeling much of anything. He was only aware of Spock’s arms around him, and his own hands tucked inside Spock’s shirt, and the rise and fall of Spock’s chest against his shoulder. Everything else had been stolen by the ice. 

“Sorry, Spock,” Kirk eventually mumbled. 

“For what, captain?” Spock’s heartbeat had been slowing in the cold, like a Terran reptile’s, and his voice was quiet. 

Kirk squeezed, arms wrapped as they were around Spock. “This can’t be comfortable for you.” 

Spock was quiet for a long moment, and Kirk was afraid that he had fallen asleep before he said, “On the contrary, captain.” Kirk blinked. Spock reclasped his arms around Kirk, pulling him more securely against his chest, and lowered his head to rest his cheek against Kirk’s hair. 

“Really?” Kirk asked, lips numb, trying to keep the balloon of hope swelling in his chest from changing his tone. “I was under the impression that you were not in favor of physical touch, Mr. Spock.” 

Another brutal pause. “I owe you an apology as well, captain.” 

“For what?” 

“For any discomfort I may have caused you previously.” 

“Discomfort, Mr. Spock?” 

Spock hesitated, and he never hesitated. Kirk forced his eyes open again. He wanted to remember this conversation, be present for it, even if it wasn’t going to matter in a few hours. They were finally talking about it. “On previous missions. When we have had to take rest overnight.” 

Ah. Those nights. The two nights that Kirk thought about every night before he went to sleep, alone, in his own bed, remembering the feeling of Spock’s hand on his heart. “You never caused me any discomfort, Mr. Spock. I feared that you were uncomfortable.” 

“You did not… mind?” Spock’s voice had lost its surety, and Kirk felt the rumble of it against him.

Kirk laughed softly, and his breath fogged the air between them. “No. I did not mind. And I don’t mind now.” 

Spock didn’t say anything, but Kirk could feel the gears of his brain turning. As Spock held him and did not pull away, he made up his mind. He thought that, here, at the end, he could be afforded a little recklessness. 

He lifted his head from Spock’s chest, and it took far more effort than it should have, but he wanted to see his friend’s face. Spock raised his head to look down at him, and their faces were so close that Kirk could feel Spock’s breath against his skin. His eyes were nearly black in the dim light reflecting off the snow outside. The alien planes of his cheekbones and eyebrows were familiar and lovely. 

“Spock,” he said. “I didn’t ever mind.” Spock inhaled sharply, and his eyes searched his. 

“Jim,” Spock said, and the desperation with which he said his name gutted him. His eyes were dark, and fixed on him. The cold had tinged him green where the tips of his ears were exposed. “I did not consider that my contact would be welcome. I had feared that our friendship would be damaged by my actions, which had exposed the desires I could not voice.”

Kirk smiled at him, even though the motion hurt his face. “What desires were those?” 

Spock pulled him closer again, settling him against his chest so Kirk’s head was pillowed in the hollow of his neck, and rested his chin against Kirk’s hair. “The desire to sleep alongside you and hold you. To be close to you. Like this.” 

The balloon of hope inside his chest had expanded three times in size. “I wanted that as well,” he murmured into Spock’s neck. “I want it still.” Spock’s arms tightened around him, and he thought he felt Spock’s lips press against his forehead.  

Against his best efforts, his eyes slid shut. Despite the cold, despite the dire straits in which they found themselves, he was warm. He wanted to fall asleep here and drift away, in the arms of the man he had loved for far too long. From somewhere very far away, he could hear Spock’s voice, but he could no longer make out what he was saying. He sounded upset. Kirk wanted to soothe him, to tell him everything was going to be alright because they were together, but he could not find his mouth to say the words. 

He fell asleep and did not dream. 

☆☆☆

The first thing he heard was the beeping of a biobed. Kirk would have known the steady thrumming of the heart monitor anywhere. He was on his back, in Medbay, and he recognized the familiar humming of his ship around him. 

When he opened his eyes, it was to the tiled ceiling of a private medical room. He was in a biobed, as he had thought, with intravenous drips coming out of both arms and three blankets piled on top of him. He wiggled his toes and bent his knees and found that everything seemed to be, for the most part, in working order. 

He struggled to remember how he had gotten there as he sat up, but there was nothing. In his mind, he could only imagine the cold, and the cave.

And Mr. Spock. He had been with Spock, and they had been slowly freezing to death together. Spock had told him… oh.

Kirk flung the blankets back, throwing himself from the bed. His legs responded slower than he expected and he staggered to the wall, leaning against it as he picked at the tape holding his IVs in. The biobed scanner beeping increased in volume, distressed at his sudden exit, and within seconds of the change Bones threw the door open. He crossed the room to Kirk in three huge steps, grabbing his hands, pulling them away from the IVs. 

“Jim, calm down, leave them alone---” 

“Where is he?” He pulled his hands from Bones’s, but Bones grabbed them again, steering him by the forearms back towards the bed. He was weaker than he thought. Since when had Bones been able to manhandle him? The backs of his knees hit the biobed and he sat heavily. 

“You’ve been through some serious nerve regeneration, Jim,” Bones said. “Stay.” 

“I’m fine,” he said, but he was not. Now that Bones mentioned it, he could feel the tingling and buzzing in his skin that told him he had spent a significant amount under a regenerator, and his bones ached. 

“You almost died, Jim,” Bones said. He held a cautioning hand out to Jim, and after a moment Jim slouched on the bed, the fight in him leaking away as Bones’s words sunk in. Bones sat down next to him on the bed, and the slump of his shoulders told Jim that he had been on his feet for hours. Jim leaned over, pressing his shoulder against his. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I owe you. Again.” 

“You owe Mr. Spock more,” Bones said, and leaned back against him. Kirk’s heart constricted painfully, and he closed his eyes. 

“Is he…? Is he here?” 

The silence between them felt like it lasted for an eternity before Bones said, “He’s here.” 

“And he’s…?” 

“He’s alive, Jim,” Bones said. Kirk let out his breath and laid back on the biobed, leaving his legs danging over the side. “It was a close thing, though. Damn desert species.” 

“How did you find us? The snowstorm…” 

“The hobgoblin tied you to his back and climbed out.” 

“Climbed out… of the cave?” 

“Of the gorge you fell into.” 

“He climbed… out of the gorge? The ice gorge?”

“The very one.” Bones turned to look at him. “As soon as Spock cleared the top of the ravine Scotty beamed you on board, and it was almost too late. You were both a mess.” 

Kirk covered his face with his hands and felt the skin on both burn with the contact. “How bad was the damage?” 

“To you or to him?” 

“Bones.” 

“The worst for you was the hypothermia. You mostly had nerve damage, and your organs had taken a beating. For him, though… the hypothermia was bad, sure, but the worst was his hands. Climbing the ice shredded them. With how sensitive Vulcan hands are… I have no idea how he got both of you out. We patched them up and he’ll be fine after a spell, but he’s going to be in the healing trance for a good while.” 

When Kirk thought he could speak without his voice shaking, he said, “I need to see him.” 

Bones sighed, but he stood and started gently removing the IVs from Kirk’s arms. “I thought you might say that.” 

Bones shut the door behind him, and Kirk was alone. Spock had also been placed in a private medical room, away from the noise and bustle of the central medbay room, and he lay perfectly still in the bed. Kirk approached, and the thick wrapping of bandages covering both of Spock’s hands broke his heart. He perched on the edge of the bed. He knew that the trance was deep enough that nothing he could do would wake him up, but he couldn’t defeat the urge to move quietly. 

Spock’s chest rose and fell with a comforting and steadying regularity. In his head, he heard Spock’s voice again: To be close to you. 

They had wasted so much time dancing around each other. They had almost died without knowing. Spock had sacrificed his hands against the ice to save them both, and he wasn’t going to waste the second chance that dangerous gamble had bought them.

Kirk carefully adjusted Spock’s arm, crossing the bandaged hand across his stomach, and slid into the bed beside him. He curled around him protectively, resting his head on his shoulder, sliding his hand across Spock’s stomach to press his palm to Spock’s heartbeat. 

He would wait until the trance was over and Spock was healed, and then they could figure out together what came next for them. For now, it was enough to hold Spock the way that he had held Kirk before, and know that he was wanted, and wait for Spock to wake. 

[vulcankisseshuman]

[loveallthing]

Fics have # Protective! Spock, i'm in !!!

[gatewaygeek]

( @bllbabaggins - for you )

The picture and the threat worked for all of four weeks. 

And then the text came, and Jim didn’t say a damn thing before putting his PADD down on the table, turning it, and pushing it toward his husband.

lil bitch ass: So you’re married... I won’t tell if you don’t. ;)

Spock said nothing, eyes ablaze. Jim felt that primal spark from his husband. It would have been something to avoid, but since it was Gary Mitchell, well, he was willing to accept it.

“This atrocity will be corrected,” Spock said simply, pushing the PADD back to him. Jim lifted an eyebrow.

“How?” He asked. Spock looked to his bondmate.

“Any means necessary.”  

--

Jim managed to convince Spock not to go hunt Gary down like a sehlat only after several hours of debate. Jim figured that if Gary really was gonna get his ass beat, then Fate would make it so.

And Fate did indeed.

Spock and Jim were walking down the street, shortly after their weekly date, arm-in-arm. Gary had been waiting outside the restaurant.

“Jimmy,” Gary hummed, smiling at his ex like a hungry lion. “What a coincidence.”

“Unlikely, seeing as you wish to defile my bondmate,” Spock hissed, and Gary chuckled.

“Is that what he told you? Oh, you naive little Vulcan. Jimmy is a liar. We’ve been... quite active.”

“Quite active? Gary, you might think your dick is huge, but it’s not.” The human grit his teeth.

“Nobody asked you, you little whore.” Spock was stepping in front of Jim in an instant, eyes firey. 

“What did you just call him?” He asked. Jim could hear a growl in his voice.

“I thought Vulcans had superior hearing. I’m fairly certain you heard me. But incase you wished to hear if for a second time-” The man stepped closer. “-Your husband is a disgusting, wanton, filthy little slut.” Gary was a fucking idiot.

Spock was on him in an instant. There was a noise that Jim couldn’t quite place at first - it sounded like the fear-inducing low whine that a cat gives off when protecting it’s territory. Then, Jim realized that it was Spock. Spock was scratching at Gary’s temples and cheeks with harsh, swift blows, then moving to the more harsh things; hard, punishing punches across the face. Gary struggled and yelled, but it only stopped when Jim came to his senses and pulled Spock off (with force).

“I’ll sue!” Gary yelled, tears in his eyes as he scrambled up.

“And I’ll show the text messages as evidence of harassment, and I’ll let Spock have you, you jackass!” Jim returned. Then, Gary left running. Jim looked to Spock, who seemed to have collected himself slightly, and he gently ran his fingers through Spock’s hair. “Hey,” He cooed softly. Spock looked away from Gary, who was still becoming more and more distant, and toward his bondmate. “I love you.” Spock’s eyes softened.

“And I, you, Ashayam.” Jim let Spock wrap an arm around his waist, keeping him close as they walked home.

[captainkirkmccoy]

“There is no need to worry, Doctor.”

Bones, who had been relieved of duty twenty seven minutes ago, was sitting in the observation bay, the screens open to reveal the bright dark beyond, littered with stars that were dying as they were seen. 

“Not worried.” Bones took a sip of the whisky Scotty had poured him. The entire bridge crew had circled in during the near half hour that he’d been parked here. Waiting for word, feeling the itch of Jim’s absence like a growing rash. He wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be. Wouldn’t let him be. But he was gone and there was a pit growing at the bottom of Bones’ belly where every bad thought tumbled, growing as it was fed. 

“His vitals are steady.” Spock added. 

“Yep.” Bones had a PADD with that readout. Given to him by Nurse Chapel. 

“Then why are you here alone. You should be getting rest.”

Bones turned his head, eyebrow raised in an approximate imitation of Spock’s preferred look of disbelief. “You gonna rest?”

“I’m not relieved of duty.”

“I shouldn’t be either. Not the first time I’ve dealt with this. Won’t be the last.”

“Doctor M’Benga made the logical call. Would you rather be alert now when we are waiting and searching or later when Jim needs you most?”

Bones swiped a hand across his eyes. The tremor had started three hours ago when he was circling forty-eight hours without sleep. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw the shuttle Jim was on bob on the radar and disappear. 

No rhyme or reason. A diplomatic shuttle meant to rendezvous at a nearby Starfleet space station. A common occurrence when the brass wanted to save overtime hours and top secret clearance. Bones had felt uneasy about going alone. Spock had suggested accompanying him. Jim’s reassuring smile didn’t quite reach his eyes but he had gave Spock a squeeze on the shoulder and pecked a too-dry kiss to Bones’ cheek. 

“Just doesn’t feel right.” Bones said at last looking down at the wedding ring that felt heavy on his hand, like it contained the weight of his missing husband. 

“No.” Spock agreed. 

The space station was unhelpful and guarded, sending out their own ships to investigate but without comment or reassurances. 

Orders had been to wait in orbit around the space station until further orders. That had been forty-eight hours ago. 

Bones stood up, eliciting a questioning tilt of his head from Spock. 

‘I’m getting on a shuttle.”

“Leonard--,” Spock began but Bones just grabbed the padd with Jim’s vitals and said, “You coming?”

***

Jim wakes to a too dry mouth and an oxygen mask fixed to his face. 

A hand is smoothing the hair away from his forehead. 

“Bones?” He asks, voice muffled by the ask and the fact that his voice sounded like he was eighty-years-old and a smoker. 

“Shh, darlin’. Just rest.”

“Happened?”

“Later.” Bones leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Jim didn’t recognize the surface above his head. It wasn’t the gunmetal grey of the shuttle or the sterile white of medbay. 

“Where are we?” He asked again and choked. His throat really did hurt. 

Bones looked away from Jim for a second before he spoke. “Safe.” 

“The kid awake?” A voice, familiar but unfamiliar said. 

Jim lifted his head just enough to see a man in a deep yellow command tunic give him a sardonic look. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Do you require anything else, Doctor McCoy?” Another voice, one that Jim instantly recognized as Ambassador Spock said. 

“No, thank you.” Jim struggled to sit up. Ambassador Spock had died last year and the other man he knew from the mind meld. His counterpart. Shit. 

“Maybe a sedative.” Bones muttered and leaned over to gently guide Jim up. His head pulsed with the weirdest hangover he’d ever felt. 

“Welcome to our universe.” Kirk said and behind him he saw his own Spock make a face. He was probably having a conniption at having to deal with two Jims, let alone his own counterpart. 

Well, this was going to be interesting. 

[depressedkakashihatake]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Spock/Nyota Uhura, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock/Nyota Uhura Characters: Mirror Leonard McCoy, Mirror Spock, Mirror Nyota Uhura Additional Tags: Mirror Universe, Flirting, Insubordenet Bones Series: Part 1 of MirrorVerse Summary:

Leonard walks into a consultation for a young Cadet and gets a lot more than what he was expecting.