Soft black hair tickled to underside of Captain James Tiberius Kirk's chin, creating a wave of affection that rolled over the young man. His sleepy blue eyes looked down at the Vulcan nestled in his arms, pressed against his chest in a fashion that almost seemed vulnerable.

Moments like this were the times when Kirk could really appreciate how much he adored his First Officer and lover, Spock. While they were on-duty, Spock was formal and respectful, completing his duties with a level of dedication that went unparalleled (which was saying a lot, considering the calibre of the rest of his crew). His brilliant mind provided the Captain with a logical anchor line, preventing Kirk from making dangerous and rash decisions in the heat of the moment. Spock was strong, in a way that could have been intimidating, but somehow, it never was. The pair of them, Captain and First Officer, made what was widely acclaimed to be the best command team in all of Starfleet. Their compatibility allowed them to pull off missions that, to anyone else, would have been improbable in its success.

But after their shifts were over, when they ceased to be Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, when they could return to their quarters, that's when Kirk really fell in love. Because, it was at that instance Spock allowed some of his barriers to come down, where Kirk was finally allowed to touch the soft pale skin of the most beautiful man he'd ever met, and show Spock just how much he meant to him.

Sometimes they moved quickly, tearing at each other's clothes and tumbling down onto the bed. Hands caressing each other, forceful kisses that bruised lips, teeth and raking hands marking spots on their bodies. Other times it was gentle and sensual, were small little gasps of pleasure escaped from swollen lips, exploratory movements and discoveries intended to increase the others pleasure (Kirk had been delighted when he'd discovered just how sensitive a Vulcan's pointed ears were).

Kirk had never figured that he'd actually fall in love in his lifetime, let alone with a half-Vulcan hybrid that found it difficult to express emotions. Spock was reserved, a character trait that had, in the past, been one of James' pet annoyances. He was never loud during sex, gentle whimpers and moans were as vocal as he ever got, nor did he ever loose control in the way that most humans would understand. But James was well versed in picking up the subtleties of his lover's carefully shielded emotions. How Spock's eyes would widen and darken slightly as he neared his climax, how his hands would grasp at the sheets (or carpet, or wall, as the case may be) underneath him in ecstasy, how when he was aroused by something, his little finger on his left hand would start to tremble ever-so slightly. How the tips of his ears would darken with a rush of green whenever Kirk's eyes scanned his gorgeous form. His long, delicate-looking fingers that concealed their hidden strength, the lean, pale body, thin and elegant, but again deceptively strong, the narrow hips and slender legs, the incomparably divine dark brown eyes that expressed very real, very human emotion if one knew how to look properly. There really was nothing that Kirk didn't love about his first officer.

The memory of Kirk's initial acknowledgement of his feelings came after a particularly horrible away mission. After landing on what had initially appeared to be an uninhabited planet, the landing party had encountered a rather hostile society of aliens, who did not take to kindly to the intrusion of the U.S.S Enterprise officers, particularly not the pale, tall, half-Vulcan with pointed ears. Upon noticing that his wounds were seeping with green blood, and not the red colour common to the other humans from the Enterprise and this particular species, the alien individuals believed they had trapped an evil spirit. They had taken Spock away from the rest of the officers, out of sight, despite the desperate protests of James trying to stop them. It had been pure luck that Scotty, having decided that the landing party had been planet side for too long without any communications, beamed them back up to the ship before the aliens had had the time to kill anyone. But despite the initial relief felt by Kirk as he realized that no one had been killed, upon spotting the crumpled form of a bruised and bloody Spock, clothing in tatters, his relief turned to pure dread and fear.

It had taken McCoy a full eight hours of surgery in order for Spock to be stable, the injuries he had suffered at the hands of his captors had been extreme. As McCoy had explained to Kirk, it was lucky that the aliens were not familiar with Vulcan physiology, otherwise Spock would not have survived. His fingers had been fractured, one of his ribs had punctured a lung, one of the stabbing wounds he'd received had hit an important vein, which had caused massive bleeding. But the worse information came when Bones explained that he'd found some tearing through Spock's rectum, and bruising on his thighs, indicating that his legs had been forced open violently and held down brutally.

Kirk's initial reaction had been to beam back down to the planet, and strangle every fucking one of the aliens with his bare hands, after informing them of how unbelievably stupid they all were for not having recognized how precious Spock was, how no one was allowed to ever hurt him. Of course, he did not do this, because it would have lost him his captaincy, and furthermore, he didn't want to leave Spock.

When Spock had opened his eyes, the look of shame and resignation that was shone through them, if only for a second before Spock regained control, broke James' heart into pieces. Vulcan's were a proud race, so being tortured and violated in such a manner would have been devastating to Spock. When James instinctively reached out to touch Spock's arm in an attempt to offer comfort, Spock's almost violent flinching motion and subsequent look of self-loathing made Kirk resolve that, from that day one, he would do everything in his power to make sure that Spock healed.

It had taken a full month of patience and tenderness from James for Spock to stop involuntarily flinching whenever he was touched (which meant that frequently, Kirk left Spock on the Enterprise during diplomatic missions where he knew that the society they were visiting was tactile, or overly-exuberant). It took another two months for the empty look in Spock's eyes to be replaced with something that James knew to be hope and tentative affection. They had settled back into a routine of nightly chess games, seamless efficiency in command, and had progressed to eating every meal together (sometimes in the mess hall, sometimes in private), and weekly sparring matches.

It was after one of their chess games, Kirk's king lying on its side, that Kirk finally had the courage to tell Spock how much he meant to him, trying to find the appropriate words to convey how much the half-Vulcan meant to him. It was more difficult than he had imagined, trying to convey how smart he thought Spock was, how beautiful, how fucking breathtaking every little characteristic was in James' eyes. He had watched, with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, as Spock had lowered his eyes, staring intently at the regulation carpet that was found throughout the ship, and tonelessly explained that, while he too was exceptionally fond of the Captain, Kirk deserved better than him, that he deserved someone who hadn't been violated (the way he said it made Kirk wonder if there had been a precedent in Spock's life, but that was a conversation for another day).

Kirk hadn't known what to say, how to convince Spock with words that there was no one else in the universe that he could possible love more, so he had communicated in through actions. A sweet, tender kiss against the warmth of Vulcan skin, which had been eagerly reciprocated; a caressing hand whose touch Spock seemed to melt into; moving gently towards the bed, steadily removing unnecessary clothing, until all James could feel was hot skin against his own; a feeling of pure bliss as hot Vulcan hands massaged his erection, rubbing warmed lubricant over the tender flesh; the ecstasy of pushing into Spock, so unbelievably erotic and beautiful that James though he might start to cry; and, when it was all finished, holding a trembling Vulcan, overwhelmed by the sensations of a real orgasm.

Spock shifted slightly, his eyes flickering open as he sensed James' gaze.

"Is everything alright?" his voice was slightly clouded by sleep, but concern was evident in his eyes, even as his face maintained its blank expression.

James raised his hand to run his fingers through Spock's ebony hair, and smiled.

"I love you so much," he couldn't ever get tired of those words.

The corner of Spock's mouth twitched ever so slightly, a Vulcan equivalent of a wide-smile, "And I love you."

As Spock nestled back into the secure embrace of his lover's arms, James finally felt sleep overcoming him.

The last words he hear before loosing grasp on his surroundings were so faint that he might have imagined them, but the nonetheless brought a bright smile to his face.

"T'hy'la."