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#the only good thing is that t'pring gets to be a character but outside of that it's just unnecessary and boring and i hate it.
storekn1fe · 3 months
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i am still deeply annoyed by the t'pring/spock/chapel love triangle in snw. why did they make t'pring and spock have an established relationship when in tos it was pretty obvious that they didn't really have any before amok time. why did t'pring and spock go on a break only for spock and chapel to immediately hook up. why are spock and chapel together when tos made it pretty clear it was one-sided and the series never said that they were exes.
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doctortreklock · 5 years
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I’ll Sing While I Simmer - October 23, 2019
Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.
Prompt: Asexual character (because it’s Asexual Awareness Week!)
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Title: “Me-Stew” by Shel Silverstein
Words: 2330
Content Warning: Dubcon (see end notes for details)
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It turned out that when Spock had told Jim that Vulcans tended toward asexuality outside "mitigating factors," he'd been shifty-eyed for a reason.
"I am going to be generous right now and assume that there was a very good reason why you didn't tell me," Jim said, fighting to keep his voice steady.
And there were the shifty-eyes again, the only tell in Spock's otherwise perfectly Vulcan visage. "I can assure you--"
"Because to me," Jim continued, barreling on, "this seems like the kind of thing one might be expected to tell their partner."
"Jim--"
"Oh yes, dear," Jim mimed, "I'm terribly sorry, but I forgot to mention that I have to have sex every seven years. Guess it just slipped my mind." And there went all his calm veneer.
Spock's eyes were dark and perhaps a touch sympathetic. Jim felt a pang in his chest and crossed his arms against the sensation.
Off to the side of the exam room, Bones cleared his throat roughly. "I'm about three weeks behind on paperwork, so if either of you need me, I'll be in my office." The good doctor didn't flee, but it was near to. Jim envied him his quick escape from the fallout that was sure to ensue.
The door slid shut behind Bones and Spock took advantage of the brief lull to explain.
"Jim." He paused. "T'hy'la." Jim tried not to show how much he was melting around the edges at the familiar endearment. "As you know, I am not wholly Vulcan. There are no previous human-Vulcan hybrids to use as an example, and so it was unknown if I would be afflicted. It was postulated that I would be spared, as my mother's genetics run stronger in some specific strands." Spock's mouth twisted slightly and Jim knew he was thinking of Nero. "However, since the destruction of Vulcan-That-Was, there have been reports from the colony of individuals entering their Time prematurely, and so it seems that regardless of predictions, my Time is now upon me."
Well, Jim would say one thing about Vulcans - they never lacked drama.
He lifted one hand to rub at the side of his face and made a face at the rough stubble he found there. Just another reminder of the hellishly long day he was in that had started with a slightly snappish Spock and was now ending with a piece of very unwelcome news.
"Give it to me straight, Spock," Jim said, tired of the conversation already. "What are our options?"
"Are you asking as my captain or my beloved?" Spock asked without flinching. "Because the answers are quite different."
That didn't sound good. "Both."
"As my captain," Spock prefaced, then he squared his shoulders. "Captain, it is my estimation that given my current rate of deterioration, I will reach an inexcusable level of efficiency by approximately ship's noon, three days from now. It is my recommendation, then, that I be deemed medically unfit for duty at the end of alpha shift tomorrow. I would further recommend that Lieutenant Sanchez be promoted to Interim Science Officer in my stead and that her promotion be permanently secured upon my death. My position as First Officer--"
"Wait, wait, wait," Jim interrupted. "Hang on, go back." There was a cold panic creeping up his spine. "Your death?"
"Yes." Spock paused. Jim didn't say anything, panic sending his stomach swooping like the universe's most terrifying roller coaster. Spock continued. "If the urge to...couple is not sated, the plak tow, the blood fever, will set in. Unless satisfied, the fever will eventually lead to total system shutdown and my death."
Jim's mouth was dry. "Were you not going to mention that?" he croaked.
"I was," Spock said, shifting his weight slightly. "If you'll recall, I did say there were two different ways I could answer your question."
He was being evasive. Jim thought they were past that. "Spock," he said softly.
Spock looked at him, gaze softening. "Jim," he echoed. "On a personal note, I have few options. You are my beloved. I shall leave it to you to decide which course to take."
Jim opened his mouth to protest that this was unfair, that he shouldn't have that much power, that Spock shouldn't give him the responsibility for such an important decisions, but Spock simply held out two fingers in the ozh'esta, a Vulcan kiss, and he subsided, pressing his own fingers to Spock's in silent response.
Spock nodded as if there had been a decision made and lifted his eyes from their joined fingers to look at Jim again. "As my beloved. Jim, when I was young I was placed in a bond with T'Pring. This you know." Jim nodded. T'Pring and Uhura had been the only exes of note that the pair had. "This bond was intended to draw us together during my Time. Then, we would join and our bond would deepen." Jim couldn't suppress a frown at the idea. "Following the loss of Vulcan-That-Was, our preliminary bond was broken. T'Pring did not perish, but concluded that a bond with a full Vulcan was necessary for the propagation of my species." Jim's frown deepened. "Her logic was sound," Spock chided softly. "As a hybrid, I am by necessity sterile. There was no logic in remaining tied to me when there were others more suited to her own needs, just as you are more suited to mine." Jim's frown faded into a wry smile at the gentle reminder, accompanied by the subtle reassurance of Spock's fingers against his own.
"With T'Pring now bonded to another, there is no one set aside for me, no one waiting for me. Jim, please," Spock said when Jim opened his mouth to protest the last point. "I would ask that you allow me the courtesy to complete my thoughts and lay out my arguments."
Jim pursed his lips, but nodded. "Fine. But I reserve the right to ask an obnoxious number of questions afterwards."
A slight smile graced Spock's lips. "I would expect no less of you, t'hy'la." He pressed his fingers against Jim's for one last moment before pulling away and clasping his hands behind his back. Jim's fingers felt cold afterwards. "As I said, there is none set aside for me among my own people or elsewhere. My remaining options are limited. Those few Vulcans adept at kolinahr have been known to successfully dissipate the blood fever through meditation, though this method knows success only after the purging of all emotions. There were once rumors that physical exertion could disrupt the fever, but I do not know the specifics, and I fear those knowledgeable have perished on Vulcan-That-Was." Spock paused, and his face was the most perfect Vulcan mask Jim had seen on him yet. "The final option is the simplest. I do nothing, and the plak tow consumes me as it has Vulcans before me."
"Now you're just being ridiculous," Jim burst out. "There's no way that's going to happen. Bones will find something that can help. He's worked wonders before."
"Millions of hours, figuratively countless hours, have been spent by those at the Vulcan Science Academy in pursuit of a cure or relief for the pon farr. None has yet been found after decades of research," Spock intoned evenly. "While Doctor McCoy's efforts are laudable, it is highly improbable he would meet with any different success."
"What about me?" Jim asked before he nerves could get the better of him. "Am I not Vulcan enough for you?" He swallowed roughly around the lump in his throat.
Spock looked at him, and this time he looked at him. Jim felt simultaneous waves of panic and terror with a small underlying layer of excitement that tingled up and down his spine. "My blood burns for you, beloved," Spock said simply, his voice thick. "But I wouldn't ask that of you."
Jim could hear his pulse beating loudly in his ears. It was a well-guarded secret - though perhaps a less-well-guarded one on the Enterprise - that Jim was asexual. He had never been sexually attracted to anyone and - in point of fact - was repulsed by the very notion of sex. When he was seventeen and had first decided to attempt the feat, he had nearly thrown up when the other man had touched him.
After a half-dozen false starts that - through bad luck and poor timing - somehow managed to secure Jim a reputation as a playboy, he had resigned himself to a life alone. Well, as alone as you could be with Bones and the entire crew of the Enterprise determined to be your family.
Spock had been a surprise. First, as a congenial colleague, then as a friend. Then, after the realization that Vulcans were mostly asexual as well - with apparently some very important caveats - as a partner. Jim told Spock about Iowa and his father, and Spock told Jim about Shi'Kahr and his mother. They played chess and talked ship's business and exchanged Vulcan kisses (because human kisses were often too much for Jim) and melded for hours, the steady press of Spock's fingers on his face all the grounding Jim needed.
But this...this changed everything. No matter what Jim decided - because Spock had put the decision solely in Jim's hands and doesn't he understand that now - everything would be different. Obviously, a small voice reminded him. Because either you'll sleep with him or he'll die. Jim shushed the voice, because it had to be a more complicated decision, didn't it? Because that choice only led to one answer.
The look on Spock's face was serene and his eyes were calm, as if he'd already accepted Jim's answer. But he couldn't have, because Jim hadn't made one yet. Or maybe he had.
"Ask me."
Spock blinked and his peaceful expression shattered. "What?"
Jim took a deep, shaky breath and double-checked himself. Yep. Still decided. "Ask me."
Spock was wide-eyed and his lips were trembling ever-so-slightly. "Jim," he rasped. "Will you knowingly and willingly consent to join with me, here, during my Time, as I pass through the mating fires?"
"Yes." Jim's voice was low, but sure.
"Will you--" Spock faltered. "Will you knowingly and willingly consent to bond with me during this, the first of my Times?"
"Yes," Jim repeated, his voice ringing with certainty this time.
Spock's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Will you knowingly and willingly consent to stay with me, t'hy'la, binding your family to mine?"
"Yes," Jim agreed. Then he added, "Is this usually quite so much like a marriage proposal?"
Spock looked a little dazed from Jim's agreement. "Not traditionally. Generally speaking, bonding usually occurs when one is young and does not require a formal declaration of intent. The mingling of families is a separate event, usually performed at the behest of the higher ranking matriarch shortly after the bond has matured." Now Spock looked faintly guilty. "I could not bear to be parted from you by any ritual known to my people, beloved. If I acted in undue haste, please forgive me."
"Nothing to forgive, Spock," Jim told him fondly. The panic that had accompanied him since Spock's initial description of pon farr hadn't dissipated, but it had settled and Jim could work around it now. The thin frisson of excitement that had run through him at Spock's gaze had vanished, but Jim had hopes that it might pop up again. The overwhelming emotion Jim was feeling right now was love. Love for Spock, who could lay out any problem with cool aplomb, no matter how personal. Spock, who trusted Jim to know his own limits. Spock, who proposed and then apologized for it. Spock, who was so dear to Jim and so very much Spock, that Jim feared for the fate of any universe without him in it.
"Very well, then," Spock said, the slightest blush of green across his cheeks the only hint of his pleasure at the exchange. "I trust you will keep the doctor appraised of the situation?"
"Of course," Jim agreed. "We'll need to talk about things, lay in supplies, antiemetics, that sort of thing."
Spock nodded and straightened up, attempting to revert back to the professionalism that was so familiar to them both. "If you do not have any further need for me, Captain, I will be spending my remaining leisure time in meditation."
"Sounds good, Mr. Spock."
Just before he reached the door, Spock paused and turned around, extending his fingers towards Jim once more. Jim obliged him, feeling relieved that at least this hadn't changed.
Once Spock had gone, Jim took a moment to breath and reevaluate himself. He was still good? Yeah. His lips curled in a smile. It would be rough. The panic and terror were still lurking beneath the surface, but for the moment they had subsided. He and Spock could get through this; just another one of the obstacles that ended up being no match for the Enterprise's command crew. They had this.
Jim squared his shoulders and walked out of the room to find Bones.
--
It wasn't easy. Jim suspected it would never be easy. But it wasn't bad, not with Spock. Not when Jim was doing this because of Spock. Because it would save Spock's life and there had never been anything more precious to Jim than that. Not his ship, not anything.
And when it was over, when the fever had passed and Spock slept peacefully at last, Jim had curled around him and run his fingers gently through Spock's sweat-soaked hair. And when Spock woke up, the first thing on his lips had been Jim's name and the second had been an apology. And Jim had shushed him firmly and kissed his forehead softly and told him there was nothing to forgive.
So Spock just held Jim tightly with trembling arms and murmured his gratitude into Jim's neck while Jim stroked his hair and held him back just as tightly.
----------------------------- *A/N: I'll just be over here inventing Vulcan courtship practices. Don't mind me.
Content Note:
Warning: This fic contains mentions of a sex-repulsed character engaging in consensual sex. He wouldn't ordinarily choose it, but events conspire and he consents to sex in this specific set of circumstances. He is still sex-repulsed afterwards, but will likely consent to sex under similar parameters in the future.
I am also sex-indifferent myself, and as such have no experience with the kind of situations Jim finds himself in in this fic. I have attempted to portray his feelings realistically, but I may be rather off base. Apologies.
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