Semantics

It was always more difficult, lying to a friend.

"Yes," Kirk said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "well, Doctor McCoy still hasn't forgiven me for missing that last shore leave. I tried to tell him, it's a little hard to relax when you're conducting a murder investigation." Kirk sighed, leaning back in the chair. Bones knew about that particular lie already, though Kirk imagined he'd still get hell for it later.

If things went well.

On the screen, Scott looked rueful.

"Aye, pity to miss Odyssey Station. Three day then?" He asked. Kirk looked at him with a much-put-upon expression.

"Afraid so, Scotty." He was thoughtful for a moment. "See if you can coordinate with Sulu on your off-shift." He heard a noise, turned the chair to cover it. "I'd like to see him get more time in the center seat."

"Aye Captain, I'll speak to him. Try to relax, you'll be up and about in no time," Scotty said pleasantly.

"Thank you, Scotty." Another noise. "Kirk out." He waited until the screen was completely blank before turning sharply, rushing into the bedroom. The blankets were rumpled, bed empty. Kirk started toward the head with an unpleasant twisting sensation in his stomach. He put a hand on the panel and the door to the cubicle opened, unlocked.

Spock was watching himself in the mirror.

He looked so far beyond exhausted he'd nearly come around to alert again. There were dark smudges under his eyes that almost looked like bruises, and rough abrasions on his back that were rapidly becoming bruises.

Even after everything, he was still hard. Thick and slightly moist in the bright lighting.

He didn't look up when Kirk entered; for a cold moment he wondered if Spock even realized he was there. His eyes never strayed from his own reflection. His eyes...he looked...empty. His bangs were stuck to his sweat-soaked forehead, but he seemed chilled.

Lost...Kirk wasn't sure where the thought came from, but it scared him. He leaned back out into the sleeping alcove, grabbed a blanket off the bed. He stepped back inside and dropped it on his friend's
shoulders with a tender twinge. He'd never seen Spock look that whipped.

"Spock?" Kirk asked gently, looking past his own reflection in the mirror to the Vulcan's. Spock shut his eyes a moment, the expression on his face perfectly clear, for once. Dining on ashes.

"I-" he managed, his eyebrows going up in distress. "What I have done..." He shook his head, looked up bleakly into his own reflected eyes. Kirk rubbed his shoulders through the blanket. Spock shivered under his hands.

"Jim," Spock said faintly, as if he'd just realized he was actually there. A tendril of alarm started to creep in around the outskirts of Kirk's thoughts, like fog on a late October evening. Kirk used the edges of the blanket as leverage, turned Spock away from self-reflection.

"Spock," Jim said gently. "How long has it been since you've slept?"

Spock slumped a little as he thought about that.

"I...am not...certain." His eyes searched as he tried to remember.

Lost...

"Come here." He coaxed, tugging on the blanket ends. Spock stumbled after him, sat back on the bed without resistance. Once there, though, he shook his head.

"It matters little, Jim. I can not sleep. I will not be released from this."

"Humor me," Jim said with a smile, pushing gently. Spock obliged him, reclining. Exhaustion dragged at his face and he shut his eyes with a sigh, sinking into the mattress.

His erection still jutted up obliviously. Carefully, glancing up at Spock, Kirk touched it. Spock shifted on the bed with a moan. Kirk put a hand out on the groove of his hip, pushed down.

"Shh. Relax." He stroked Spock's overheated skin. "Relax, as much as you can. I'll take care of this." Then he lowered his head and started licking.

"Oh..." Spock sighed.

Kirk stroked Spock's stomach with his free hand and slurped the shaft into his mouth. He felt an odd wave of uneasiness but pushed it aside, concentrating on the matter at hand. Spock wasn't moving very much. (But that would follow, he'd told him to relax...)

He glanced up, sucking. Spock was breathing rapidly, his head turned to the side, mouth open slightly. As sensual and inviting as he'd been six or seven hours ago, at the start. Except that every time, he seemed to get a little weaker...

Uneasiness rippled, rolled into a rising alarm. He drew back, and Spock's eyes fluttered open. Kirk rose up on his knees on the bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, appalled. Spock was burning up under his hands.

"Jim," Spock sighed wearily.

"What are you doing?!" Kirk snapped, slapping his hands down on Spock's shoulders and getting right in his face. Worse, he couldn't have said why he was so upset, he didn't know... he couldn't...

"You're dying." Kirk said in quiet horror and felt a jerk of surprise in his gut from hearing his own words. "Why-why are you dying? I thought-"

Spock wasn't looking at him. Impulsively he grabbed his head, made him look...

Spock made a small sound of protest, and Kirk choked, suddenly pushing through...something...into fire and death. He jerked his hands back from Spock like he'd been scalded, sat back on the bed. Spock curled away from him, holding his head.

Kirk had an ache behind his eyes like a ten pound hammer, just from a moment of it.

"I'm a fool," Kirk said quietly. Was he imagining it, or did Spock seem to...shrink into himself a little?

"It was so very nice, so very logical-" He strung the word out with cold venom. "Salmon, eel birds. But that's not it, is it? No." He grabbed Spock's arm and jerked him around until he could look him in the eye.

"It's mind, isn't it, Spock?"

He saw the reaction to that and had his answer.

"It makes sense," Kirk continued, on a roll, "You could have sex with a hologram, hell, with a god dammed tree trunk if you wanted to-if you just needed release. You need a mind. Open, receptive to
you." Kirk rubbed his own forehead. "I felt it for a moment, back there the first time."

Spock flinched. He pushed himself up with obvious effort.

"I ask forgiveness-"

"Request denied! " Kirk snapped. Spock wilted, a little. His arms were shaking with the stress of supporting his weight. Most of Jim's anger withered away at the sight. When he spoke again, his voice was nearly gentle.

"Spock..." He waited until Spock looked at him. "Let me help."

Spock's lips parted just slightly. Jim reached for his hands and he recoiled a little. Kirk paused, pulled up a smile from somewhere.

"Let me help," he whispered. When was the last time he'd ever pleaded for anything? Hell, he'd pleaded to the admiralty for Spock last week. His mind stilled. For Spock. His fingers found the side of a warm neck, the curve of a burning hot shoulder, and kneaded gently. Spock leaned into the touch.

"Jim," he breathed, sounding hesitant, like he was about to explain something else he hadn't quite lied about that week.

Kirk suddenly felt the warning like he'd absorbed it through his hands. Stay back, stay away...

He didn't care. He didn't care, he hadn't come so far to lose the race by half a length.

He put his mouth over Spock's, pushing through...pushing through something...through the looking glass to face the monsters on the far side of it...

Someone was screaming. It was around him and in him, one long ragged wail. He needed to be touched. He needed...it felt like dying. A broken, bloody hole in his mind...a thousand empty caves, throbbing with the echos of mad ghosts...Alone. In all his life, he'd never felt so alone. Spock let out a single dry sob against the side of his face.

(The claws that catch...)

Alone. The word shivered in, a dagger to his heart, stealing his breath from him. He reached out wildly, rabid to touch him...just once there, just there...

Dimly, he could feel Spock moaning into his mouth, grinding against him.

Ahhh....there.

"Jim!" Spock gasped and came copiously, desperately all over Kirk's thigh. The flush of release rolled through both of them, boiling internally like a thundercloud.

Kirk inhaled sharply, only realizing he hadn't been able to when the pressure disappeared. Spock was panting against his chest as if he'd been smothering.

"Jim..." Spock said faintly, and his tone drew Jim's attention like a phaser shot. "Must understand..." he insisted, enunciating clearly, fighting hard against unconsciousness."...dangerous..."

Spock's breath went out of him. He sank so deep and went so still Kirk propped himself up in alarm and checked for a heartbeat. Then, with a sudden cold premonition he tried to brace himself...

His mind flickered like a candle as he was suddenly dragged, fingers scraping on wet earth as the weight chained to his leg pulled him back over the lip of the well, down into darkness.