Chapter Text
Spock’s mouth was hot as it plundered his, skin so hot where it pressed against him, and Jim melted under it. He let his legs fall apart and Spock sank between them. Jim’s slit, already wet and throbbing, quivered as he felt the head of Spock’s penis brush against it. Jim writhed on the bed, desperate to feel Spock inside him. But Spock was lifting him by the hips and probing his anus, preparing to take him that way. Jim groaned in frustration and pushed his hand between their bellies, not too proud now to give himself what he wanted. But he couldn’t reach. Instead he grabbed his own swollen cock and pumped it, hard, as Spock thrust inside him.
The next morning Jim woke at 05:17 and staggered to the bathroom just in time to empty his stomach into the toilet. God, what was happening to him?
Since the age of four Jim had known that he was not quite like his big brother, or the cousins who sometimes joined him for bath time after playing in the mud. As he grew older, he came to understand that he possessed female sexual organs as well as male, that it was something to do with the terrible wars that had plagued Earth nearly two hundred years earlier, and that he was a perfectly healthy male nonetheless. When he was older, the doctors told him, he could choose to have the extra organs removed. But Jim never menstruated, as did some other boys with the same condition; he never experienced any noticeable sensation from his female parts; and soon all but forgot the extra orifice nestled behind his testicles.
If asked, Jim would have said he scarcely thought about his difference. If he was honest with himself, he might have said that it made him even more determined in his male sexual dominance. None of his female lovers had ever discovered his secret, or at least none had ever mentioned it. And, before Spock, he’d never been with a male.
Spock, of course, had noticed almost right away.
‘You are Rutgers XY,’ he remarked, matter-of-factly, as he prepared to penetrate Jim for just the second time.
‘Yup,’ said Jim, just as pragmatically, though his breathing was labored. He was on all fours, and his cock was knocking impatiently against his belly. He wanted Spock inside him now. ‘Me and one in a thousand other Human males.’
‘One in 1028.6.’
‘Close enough.’
Spock was probing Jim’s back entrance with one finger, then two. ‘Do you possess the full Rutgers phenotype?’
‘What?’ Jim spluttered.
‘Only 72.51% of Rutgers individuals develop a complete set of female reproductive organs.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Jim. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. ‘I’m a guy, Spock.’
‘I never doubted that.’
‘Good.’ Jim grunted as Spock added a third finger. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that, and get on with this’—he clenched hard around Spock’s fingers—‘instead.’
‘As you wish.’
Spock, good as his word, had never mentioned the matter again. For a while it was in the back of Jim’s mind. Especially after the encounter with Khan, he hated to think that he was in any way a product of the Eugenics Wars. But, by the time he’d saved the galaxy a few more times, he had forgotten once again about his biological quirk—that was, until Spock’s pon farr.
Jim had always wondered when Spock’s aborted mating would come back to bite him, and bite it did, nearly two years after the first time. Fortunately Jim had been able to schedule leave for them both. They’d taken a chalet at an exclusive resort on Alpha and locked themselves away to see out the fever. Jim had packed a full arsenal of things they might need—lubricant, medikit, electrolyte tablets, more lubricant. He’d anticipated everything, he thought. What he hadn’t expected was that Spock would take him in his virgin slit, very first go.
Jim had buried his face in the pillow as Spock fucked him in this whole new way. He wanted to hate it—yet, after the initial pain and shock, he found himself wanting more, and more. He thrust back upon Spock, clenching hard around him, while the pistoning of Spock’s hips drove Jim’s own swollen cock into the mattress.
In retrospect he should have seen it coming. As Spock’s fever approached, Jim had been aware, for the first time, of a moist discharge from his extra entrance. By the time he sat next to Spock on the shuttle to Alpha, he’d found himself literally wet between the legs. Spock had warned him that, as the mate of one entering pon farr, he might begin to experience symptoms of the fever himself. Jim had expected the hard-on, but not this other, unaccustomed form of arousal. Jim’s face flushed hot when he saw the damp patch he had left on the shuttle upholstery. Still, Jim had not exactly complained when Spock had fucked him like a girl for nearly three days straight.
Since then Jim had found himself wanting it that way, though he never confessed his desire. And he’d found something else, as well, a few weeks after they returned from leave.
The first sign of anything amiss was that he needed to pee more often. Then it was his morning coffee making him want to retch. When he started actually retching—early morning and mid-afternoon seemed to be his stomach’s favorite times—Jim began to suspect what the problem was and took himself off to see Bones.
McCoy was in his office, apparently not working terribly hard, when Jim presented himself.
‘Drink?’ The doctor offered, removing his feet from the second chair.
‘I’d… better not.’
McCoy shrugged. ‘Then what can I do for you?’
Jim sat and deliberately folded his hands on the table. No sense beating about the bush. ‘I think I’m pregnant.’
McCoy nearly snorted his brandy. ‘What?’
Jim could see Bones was about to dismiss his statement as a joke, and he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. ‘You know I’m Rutgers.’
That got the doctor’s attention. ‘You telling me you decided to open for business down there?’
Jim’s look announced that he really wasn’t in the mood.
‘Sorry, Jim.’ McCoy set his glass down. ‘Spock’s pon farr,’ he surmised.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘But—Jim, are you sure? I mean, I’ve never had any reason to think you’re, well, fertile that way. You told me yourself it was a bit of a “dead zone” down there.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Jim shifted in his seat. ‘But when Spock’s fever came on I started getting… wet. And, since we’ve been back… the last few days I’ve been chucking my guts up, and I need to pee all the time.’
‘Hmm. That could be any number of things. But stand up and I’ll check you out.’
Jim stood awkwardly, heart pounding, while the scanner whirred over him. Bones’ face was frustratingly inscrutable. ‘Well?’
‘Just a moment, Jim.’ McCoy swapped the small scanner for his tricorder. ‘Well, I’ll be… I guess the word is “congratulations”, Jim. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re pregnant, all right. About eight weeks.’
‘You’re sure?’ Jim’s voice was toneless.
‘I’ll run some more tests, but yes, I’m sure.’ McCoy set the tricorder aside. ‘Your uterus is enlarged and I’m reading a fetal heartbeat.’
‘A heartbeat.’ Jim’s own heart skipped.
‘That’s right. My guess is Spock’s fever prompted you to ovulate, just like in a Vulcan female. I have to say I’m a little surprised the two of you managed to conceive naturally, but I suppose Spock is half-human—you are sure it’s Spock’s?’
‘Positive.’ If Jim had been less shocked he would have been angry.
McCoy perched on the edge of the desk. ‘So, what are you going to do?’
For a moment Jim stared at a spot on the deck. When he looked up, his eyes were bright. ‘I’m going to have a baby.’
McCoy broke into a grin. It was all mad, completely mad—but he’d always been a sucker for babies. ‘Those are words I never thought I’d hear! Have you told Spock?’
Jim shook his head. ‘I wanted to be sure.’
‘What do you think he’ll say?’
Jim looked at the floor again. ‘I don’t know.’
Bones clasped his shoulder. ‘I think he’ll be thrilled.’
For almost the first time in his life, Jim struggled to focus on the activity of the bridge. He was pregnant. He was going to have a baby. He and Spock were going to have a family. It felt like a miracle, a second chance—the chance he had passed up with Carol, never had with Edith, lost with Miramanee—and it could hardly have come at a better time. For a year now, Jim had dreaded the mission’s end and the emptiness he would feel while his ship was refitted, if they even let him keep her. But now he had been handed a new adventure, not for five years but for eighteen, twenty, for life—and the ultimate bond between himself and Spock.
Jim looked at Spock, bent over his scanners. More than once Jim considered calling him off the bridge to tell him the news. They were going to have a baby—that was a discovery more momentous than anything they might find in this ancient dust cloud. He watched Spock’s elegant hands dance expertly over his panel. Jim yearned to feel those hands on his skin, on the place Bones had showed him, low on his pelvis, where their child’s heart was beating. But Jim resisted, waited.
‘Captain?’
Jim had not even noticed the yeoman’s approach. ‘Hmm?’
‘Fuel consumption report, sir.’
‘Of course.’ Jim skimmed the report and initialed it.
At the science station, Spock glanced once at his captain and lover before turning back to his scanners. Jim seemed distracted, and that was unusual. Spock would ask the reason, later.
When his shift ended, Jim did not linger. His growing uterus was playing havoc with his bladder—that was perfectly normal, Bones had assured him—and his mind was anywhere but the dust cloud.
Spock joined him in the turbolift. Jim knew they had fifty-eight seconds alone until the lift reached Deck 5. He said nothing, but something must have shown in his eyes.
‘Jim?’
Jim smiled. ‘My cabin?’
Spock nodded and followed him to his quarters.
When Jim finished in the bathroom he found Spock standing in the sleeping alcove looking at the painting they’d bought on their first leave together. It was a landscape with moonrise—nothing special, really, except that it was the same landscape they’d looked out at as they made love on their private terrace. It always gave Jim a little thrill to look at it—and to see visitors admire it, without realizing what it signified. Spock, of course, knew perfectly well. Jim approached behind him and wrapped his arms around Spock’s narrow waist. ‘I thought we might eat in tonight.’
‘That would be agreeable.’ Spock turned in Jim’s arms, his own hands going to Jim’s flanks.
Jim leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, chastely at first, then more ardently, pressing forward as Spock’s lips parted beneath his. Already he felt his cock getting interested—god, Spock smelled so good, felt so good, it would be so easy to fall to his bunk right now—but that was not what Jim intended for the evening. Jim pulled back, and smiled at Spock’s soft sound of disappointment.
‘I’m going to hit the gym, first.’
Spock’s eyes crinkled in one of his secret smiles. ‘A commendable plan. You do seem… restless.’
Jim traced the line of Spock’s jaw, which was shadowed with stubble. He could tell Spock now—but he wasn’t ready, not quite yet. ‘And whose fault would that be?’ he said, lightly. ‘You know, I never thought I could be jealous of the Enterprise, but those scanners of yours—that’s a different matter.’
Spock captured Jim’s hand, though he would not give Jim the advantage of knowing that it tickled. ‘In that case,’ he said, ‘it is only fair that I join you in your workout.’
Jim went through his usual routine—Bones had said there was no danger, and he supposed he had better stay in shape as much as possible, while he still could. Jim felt a twinge of regret at the thought of losing his hard-won abs—but then, he was trading them for something much better.
He set down the barbell and wiped his face with the back of his arm. ‘Well, that’s worked up an appetite,’ he told Spock. ‘I’ll be in the showers.’
Jim opted for a water shower, as usual. He threw his head back, and let the almost-too-hot spray wash the sweat from his hair and face. Then he squirted a handful of soap and lathered himself all over. He let his hand linger over his stomach. It was hard to believe there was really a baby growing inside him, that in just a few months his belly would be big and round. Jim shivered even as the hot water streamed over his skin. Then he shut the shower off and quickly scrubbed himself with his towel before knotting it around his waist and joining Spock in the change room.
‘Dinner?’ There was no-one else present and Jim allowed himself to brush Spock’s hand, just once.
‘Indeed.’
They ate largely in silence, but companionable silence. Jim’s appetite had returned, thanks to Bones’ anti-nausea shot, and he was hungry. He ate his dinner, two bread rolls, and was contemplating desert when the comm whistled.
‘Kirk here.’
‘Lieutenant Rinaldi, sir. Sensors have detected a hyper-dense zone bearing 2818 mark 8 from our position, impenetrable on our current scan pattern. Requesting instructions, sir.’
Jim glanced at Spock. ‘Alter course to scanning range, Lieutenant. Mr Spock is with me, and will give further instructions.’
Jim listened while Spock ordered a full set of scans of the dense zone and asked to be notified of any unusual findings. To Jim’s relief, he did not offer to attend himself. After all, Jim thought, hyper-dense dust was still just dust. He was anxious to report the results of his own scans—at the appropriate juncture.
Spock closed the channel. ‘The diversion should add less than ten hours to our schedule, and might prove interesting.’
‘But not “fascinating”.’
‘I have no reason to expect so.’
Jim smiled. God he loved his Vulcan. ‘Dessert, Mr Spock?’
‘I see your appetite has returned.’
Jim made a noncommittal gesture. He’d managed to keep the vomiting to himself, but of course Spock had noticed him picking at meals. ‘Apple pie or ice cream?’
‘Which are you having?’
‘Both.’
When they had eaten, Spock left the dishes by the door for Jim’s yeoman to collect and stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his back.
‘Do you have plans for the rest of the evening, Jim?’
Did he ever. It had been a few days since they’d slept together—Jim hadn’t felt up to it—but it was not just his appetite for food that had returned. ‘Do you, Mr Spock?’
‘I had intended to review the data from today’s scans in order to refine our focus; however—’
‘However, that can wait till morning.’
‘If you would rather I directed my attentions elsewhere, yes.’
Jim got to his feet and laid his hands on Spock’s arms. ‘I’m sure I can think of something.’
‘Spock, oh god yes, yes—’
Jim mouthed the words against Spock’s chest and neck as he writhed under the Vulcan’s weight. Their cocks were hard together and he knew that if they kept this up he was going to explode, but he wanted—needed—to feel Spock inside him. He spread his thighs a little wider, welcoming Spock between them. ‘Please.’ He sucked hard on Spock’s lip this time, drawing it into his mouth as he wished to take all of Spock’s length inside him.
Spock made a low guttural noise and slid his hands under Jim’s buttocks, coaxing his hips off the mattress, but Jim halted him and guided his cock instead to his other entrance, already slick and swollen with desire. Jim shuddered as he felt the hot tip of Spock’s penis thrum against him at nearly three hundred beats per minute. He was not ashamed anymore. This was part of him; this was how they had conceived the baby that now grew inside him. ‘Please, Spock. Like this.’
‘Are you sure?’ It took all Spock’s strength of will to resist, but resist he would, for life, if need be. Jim was male, and he wished to have sex as a male—he had made that clear early in their relationship, and if that was what Jim wanted, that was what Spock wanted, too. What had happened in the fever had been an aberration.
‘Do it.’ Jim was panting. He bit down on Spock’s lip and bucked up against him.
Evidently Jim had changed his mind. Spock hesitated no longer. He slid into Jim and soon set up a rhythm, slamming his hips into Jim’s thighs. Jim brought his knees up a little to welcome Spock deeper within him. Jim’s own cock throbbed between their bellies, but it didn’t matter. He clenched hard around Spock, moaning aloud as the hot iron of Spock’s penis pounded into his prostate and some other place he hadn’t even known existed until two months before. He clutched at Spock’s back, at his ass, urging him deeper still, if that were possible. And then Jim came, warm and wet between their bodies. Spock followed soon afterwards with the improbable high pitched yowl that signaled the very peak of Vulcan ecstasy.
Spock collapsed onto Jim. He did not withdraw, and Jim did not want him to, not ever. He caressed Spock’s slackening penis with his body, experimenting with a whole new set of muscles, of sensations.
‘Jim,’ Spock groaned, and Jim could almost have laughed for joy—he loved Spock like this, in extremis, all Vulcan control stripped away. Instead he sought Spock’s mouth and returned the sentiment with a long, bone-melting kiss that left them both gasping for air. Then he pushed a hand back through Spock’s disarrayed hair. ‘All right. I’ll release my prisoner. For now.’ Jim delivered one final squeeze to underscore his meaning before letting Spock roll free. Jim followed, fitting their bodies together like two pieces of a jigsaw, and Spock raised a hand to caress Jim’s cheek.
The ship had never seemed quieter than it did while Jim prepared to speak his next words. The thumping of his heart sounded in his head as clear as a drum. Jim drew an unsteady breath. ‘I have a surprise for you,’ he whispered, and felt Spock shiver as the words ghosted over his sensitive ear.
Spock almost smiled. ‘Jim, I fear another of your surprises may precipitate a situation inimical to sleep.’
‘I’d say that’s a certainty.’
Spock turned slightly. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘That depends on you.’ Jim swallowed. Now or never. He took Spock’s hand and guided it to his pelvis. ‘We’re going to have a baby.’
Jim felt Spock stiffen. ‘Baby?’ He was sitting up now, staring at Jim. ‘You are going to have a baby. You are… pregnant.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Jim held fiercely to Spock’s hand.
‘How?’
‘How do you think, Mr Science Officer?’ Jim circled his thumb over Spock’s. ‘Seems I’ve got a full working set after all.’
Jim’s words were light but his heart was racing. He was so sure Spock would welcome the news. He didn’t know what he would do if he was wrong.
For the time being, Spock seemed hardly capable of thought, let alone speech. Jim felt a tremor run through him. He sat up as well and put his arms around Spock’s neck, kissed him on the cheek. ‘So,’ he said, biting down the quaver in his own voice, ‘how do you feel about starting a family?’
The next few seconds felt almost like time warp, stretched out into eons. Only Jim’s pounding heart kept pace with the universe as he waited for Spock’s response. When it came, it floored him. Spock was beaming.
‘Jim!’ Recovered from his shock, Spock seized Jim almost bruisingly. ‘Beloved… I never thought it possible.’
‘It’s possible,’ Jim said breathlessly. ‘It’s happened.’
‘I never thought to hope—’ Spock broke off.
‘I never thought at all,’ said Jim. ‘But now—I’m so happy, Spock. I’m so happy you’re happy.’
‘I am delighted, beloved.’ In such circumstances, Spock was sure, happiness was logical. He kissed Jim’s hair. ‘When I learned you were Rutgers, I did wonder, but I never—’
‘You never said anything.’
‘I did not think you wanted children, Jim.’
‘I… I don’t think I knew. But Spock—we’re going to have a baby.’ Jim tugged Spock’s hand back to his belly, and this time Spock’s touch was a caress, smoothing warmly over Jim’s skin. ‘I’m afraid there’s not much to feel yet. But it—he or she—is in there, growing—and making me need to pee all the time.’ Jim laughed and squeezed Spock’s hand. ‘Our baby, Spock.’
‘H-how long?’
‘You must be in shock if you haven’t figured that by now! Just over eight weeks.’ Jim didn’t need to remind Spock what they’d been doing eight weeks earlier.
Spock’s hand was still resting almost reverently on Jim’s belly.
‘So that’s about seven months till the baby’s due,’ Jim went on. ‘We’ll be back on Earth before then—I guess I’ll be getting pretty big, but I’ll just let everyone think I’m fat. Wouldn’t be the first time.’ Jim kissed Spock again, on the tip of his ear. ‘Then we’ll put the Enterprise in dock, get a house somewhere, and try our hands at being parents.’
‘You plan to continue.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You plan to complete this mission in command of the Enterprise.’
‘Well—yes. There’s less than five months to go—we’ll be home in time for the baby, and I’d like to see it out.’
‘Jim, that is hardly safe—’
‘No, it isn’t, but we’ve survived this far, and Bones told me the child is tucked up nice and snug in here. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been throwing myself around in the gym.’
‘And what about when the child grows? What about Klingon disruptors? Tholians? Romulans? Is your body proof against those?’
‘Spock—’ Jim started speaking before he knew what he was trying to say. He had simply assumed he would continue in command of the Enterprise until mission’s end. Now Spock was making him realize that might not be safe, if Starfleet—if Spock—even let him. But that wasn’t an argument he wanted to have now. Strategic retreat was in order. ‘OK, Spock, we’ll talk about it.’ Jim couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. ‘But I’m glad you’re happy, because I am utterly delighted to be starting a family with you. Now…’ he pressed his mouth against Spock’s and flicked his tongue out to caress Spock’s upper lip. ‘How about a little celebration?’
They made love again, gently this time. Jim knew that Spock’s mind was only half in it, but it didn’t matter. Even as he came, Jim could not stop thinking about the life growing inside him, and as he fell into a deep post-coital sleep, it was with his hand and Spock’s clasped over his belly.