The Way of Things: Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters. However, this story is mine. I am only doing this for fun and am only borrowing the characters for a little bit.

Warnins: Contains SLASH and MPREG, if you don't like it please do not read this story.

A/N: So here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Please give constructive criticism.

Thank you to DearNormaJean for betaing this for me, I'm very grateful.

Update: I'm really sorry, but I've had some devasting news and I won't be able to update this in the next while whilst things are sorted out. I hope you understand.

James T. Kirk had expected to be spending the weekend with his big brother Sam, he had taken three shuttles and a hover car to be in San Francisco and the asshat wasn't even there. Instead, Jim had arrived at the empty dorm room to find an envelope that had been left with his brother's neighbour. Inside were a credit chip, a key, and a note. The note had been succinct, telling him that Sam had been invited on a last minute field to study a plant of some kind, he was sorry, here was some money, don't tell Mom and change the sheets before he went home.

Jim was annoyed, but anything was better than going back to Iowa. So he'd done what any seventeen year old would have done in his situation, order pizza, watch some dubious television, read his brothers personal logs (who the hell was Aurelan?) and then he hit the town to see if he could find someone to corrupt him for the weekend.

The streets were filled with people who were celebrating the end of the workweek; there were a lot of different species and a hell of a lot more cadets in their crisp red uniforms. It was four bars, a manly number of drinks, several rounds of flirty innuendo, two comm codes and a party invite later that he decided to call it a night.

The people who he had spoken to had been nice enough but they just didn't do it for him. His brother had often told him that his high ESP rating turned him into a snob. Jim argued back that what was the point in a pretty face if all that was beneath it was a shallow puddle of nothingness? He'd had a few partners along the way – what was the point in all those lovely teenage hormones if you didn't kick back and let them take over once in a while? He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed the guy until he was literally on top of him.

He hit the sidewalk with a thump and for a moment he was still, misery and desperation overloading him. He breathed deeply, pushed the emotions aside and stood up apologising as he did.

"Oh sorry dude, I didn't see you there. Are you ok?" He held out a hand and took a look at the guy who was still on the floor.

Oh wow.

Jim was a guy and as such he did not swoon. But, if he was going to, the guy on the floor would have been really, really good inspiration for such a move. He had never been one to describe something as beautiful, but the guy on the floor was just that. He had dark hair, chocolate eyes, and skin that was on the right side of pale but interesting. The guy still hadn't moved so Jim reached down and grasped his hand to pull him up.

As soon as they touched, Jim lit up like a Christmas tree. The guy's misery receded and in its place was a joy and happiness so profound that he'd never felt before; and it was all aimed at him. He was so lost in the sensation that he hadn't realized that the guy had stood up and had his arms wrapped around him and really wasn't letting go. The guy was a fraction taller than him and as he took in his features, he noticed the ears. The guy was a Vulcan. He'd never met a Vulcan before but from what he'd read he'd gathered that emotions weren't their thing. This guy, however, was broadcasting so strongly that even passersby were smiling at them.
The Vulcan pulled him closer, ground his hips against Jim's, and started to nuzzle at his neck. A slow fire started to kindle in his belly and the Vulcan started to stroke Jim's fingers with his own. Electricity flew up his arms and he felt the Vulcan's lust and desire spike through him. Jim tried to pull away for a moment to catch his breath but the arms around him tightened in response and the Vulcan growled into his neck. He sagged a little, the growling was very, very hot and his groin tightened in response. Jim felt the Vulcan lick a stripe up the side of his neck. That sealed it, let it be said that he'd never looked a gift horse in the mouth.

Jim responded by crashing their lips together, the guy obviously didn't know what to do at first but by God he was a quick study. His body responded in earnest and Jim had just enough presence of mind to pull away for a beat, grasping the Vulcan's wondering fingers and rubbing the tips in kind. It wasn't his kind of thing, but judging by the green tinge on the guy's cheeks it was working for him.

"How about we take this somewhere a little more private?"

"Yeeeessssssss" the Vulcan gasped out as Jim caressed his fingers.

Jim kissed him once more and then asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

"I am Spock"

"Well Spock, I'm Jim and I know a place we can go" and with that Jim led him back to Sam's dorm room.

They rushed through the streets, drawing stares as they pulled into dark spaces occasionally to kiss, to touch. Their desires taking them over and driving them on. They reached Sam's dorm, Jim hastily punching the door code in as Spock kissed his neck and tugged at his clothes. The door opened and they fell onto the room and onto the bed.

Spock was undone, his shields had failed and he was laid bare. In the back of his mind, he knew he should have been concerned but where was the logic in that when his bright golden boy was with him. His mind thrummed in the presence of such acceptance and he could not help but rush in and wrap himself around it. The boy, no Jim, yes his Jim was intoxicating. He could not help himself. Never before had he experienced such desire and compulsion, he did not even want to try and resist.

He reached out with urgent hands, disrobing him as quickly as he could. Why was he wearing so many clothes, did he not realize what an inconvenience this was.

He could not wait; he needed to touch, to feel. So he ripped the fabric away, his Jim would have no need of clothing anymore, he would keep him warm from this day fourth.

As each inch of golden sunny skin was revealed to him, he mapped it out with his hands and lips. Jim's hands reached out to him, he growled and batted them away. He wasn't finished yet.

"Spock, I want to see you," Jim whined.

He paused, thinking for a moment, feeling his Jim's disappointment bleeding through his skin. His Jim needed the same things he did, he needed to touch. Spock wanted him to touch; he needed his Jim to map out his skin. He stood up, ignoring the small sound of protest that his Jim made, and pulled all of his clothes off.

"Spock I wanted to do that."

"Yes, but I have done it faster." he breathed. He shivered without the layers of clothing; the air in the room was slightly chilly.

"Spock are you cold?" Jim asked.

Spock smiled, his bright boy cared for him.

"Yes Jim, but it does not matter, you will make me warm again."

Spock returned to the bed, their naked bodies touching for the first time.

Oh.

This was much better. So much better.

"You are exquisite my Jim." He breathed and with that they lost themselves in each other.

He did not know how much time passed, all he knew was the ebbing and flowing of their passion. Sometimes it was urgent, hot and heavy and others it was slow and gentle. Spock learned every inch of his Jim, knowing where to touch to make him gasp and which caress would make him moan. Jim did the same with him, stamping his very presence into every inch of Spock's skin.

The first time he sank into his Jim, his fingers reached out of their own accord. Their minds met, rising and falling together as their bodies did and, for the first time since he had left that desert place, he was not alone. His mind rejoiced; he had met his other, the one who would fill the emptiness in the back of his mind.

In the quieter times, they explored and learnt of each other. Spock rejoiced at the knowledge that his Jim, his golden boy, did not wish him to be anything but Spock. Jim did not judge him for his small smiles, for his need to be touched. Jim saw the entirety of him and responded with happiness and passion.

They possessed each other thoroughly and entirely. Spock could feel the fires dimming to embers and their couplings became more gentle and less frantic.

Spock could see the light fading in the room. He sank into his Jim, rocking lazily they came together before wrapping themselves around each other and surrendering to the call of Morpheus