AN: This is the sequel to 'You Scratch My Back'. Originally I did not plan for it to be this long, its six pages in Microsoft Word. I'm glad I decided to post it in two installments.

When Jim finally exited the medical bay, after a few slaps upside the head from Bones for being "an accident-prone moron" and "completely hopeless", he felt much better. Despite all his griping he'd patched Jim up fine. It was obvious that he hadn't bought Jim's story about scraping up against some machinery in engineering, Jim hadn't really expected him to, but he'd respected Jim's privacy none-the-less.

Instead of heading instantly toward Spock's quarters, Jim reported back to the bridge. There was always the chance, after all, that Spock had returned to finish up his shift. The bridge was Vulcan free, however, when Jim stepped from the turbolift. His first instinct was to turn right around and close the lift doors before anybody noticed him, but it was too late for that. Besides, he still had his duties as a captain to attend to. That was it. He had duties. He wasn't stalling. Of course not.

Jim sat fidgeting for the rest of his shift, unable to keep still for a different reason this time. He wasn't sure why the whole idea of talking to Spock was making him so nervous. He'd been perfectly fine with it just a little while ago. But it seemed that his adrenaline had worn off and the reality of the situation was just now hitting him. He was attracted to Spock.

It wasn't anything profound, of course. He didn't want to throw himself on his knees before the guy and profess his love. He just realized his aesthetic appeal. He was tall, dark, and handsome, all the good stuff, right? And he really did have a good sense of humor, in a quiet, secret, raised eyebrow kind of way. Besides, if he got on his knees in front of Spock it would not be to talk.

…wait. Wait. Did he just think that? Had he seriously just thought about doing dirty things to Spock? Doing dirty things with Spock. Having Spock do dirty things to him…

When the end of shift finally came Jim was having a full blown mental freak out. He only nodded briefly to the crew, mumbling something, he wasn't quite sure what, before speed walking it out of there. His mind was in a panic. It seemed that the more he thought about it, the more freaked out it made him. But the thing that really bothered him, was that deep down, somewhere inside him, it didn't bother him. However much it bewildered him on the surface, subconsciously he knew he'd already accepted the fact of the matter long ago. How long ago? He couldn't say. It wasn't like he'd had some huge revelation. No, he would've noticed that happening. Gradually, over a long period of time, it had just grown to be that way. Just as he had grown to think of Spock as a friend over time he had now grown to think of him as something more.

Jim found that while he'd been running around the ship in mental panic his subconscious mind had taken over, showing him where he needed to go. He was standing in front of the door to Spock's quarters, staring down at his boots. He looked up at the smooth metal door in front of him, hesitating. The screaming voice in his head had subsided now, leaving him only with a strange feeling of calm. It would be okay.

Jim lifted one finger and pushed the buzzer next to Spock's door. After a few moments of silence, he called out hesitantly.

"Spock? It's Jim." There was another brief silence, then…

"You may enter." Jim stepped forward and the door slid open, allowing him access into the room beyond. It was hot inside, and lit with a dim red light. An array of candles was set around the room, giving it a slightly spiced smell. Spock stood in the center of the floor. He had discarded his uniform shirt, leaving on the black tee he wore beneath it. It clung to his narrow chest and shoulders, showing off the curvature of his upper body. Jim realized he was staring and glanced away, his eyes taking in the flickering shadows the candles cast upon the walls.

"You didn't finish your shift." Damn it! Jim kicked himself mentally. He had not meant to say that.

"My apologies, Captain," Spock replied with a slight incline of his head, "I believed it would be wise to first regain control of my mental facilities through meditation. I would like to apologize for my assault on your person earlier-,"

"I thought I told you, it's Jim," Jim interrupted. For some reason he didn't want Spock to apologize. Spock looked up from where he had been staring at the floor near Jim's feet. His expression was unreadable.

"Of course," he said, his voice low, "Jim. As I have said I would like to apologize for my assault on your person earlier. It was unintentional and I deeply hope it will not affect our relationship in the future."

"Spock, there's no need to apologize." The Vulcan's eyebrows shot up at that comment in a very stoic show of surprise.

"Jim, I fail to see the logic in that statement. I inflicted harm upon your person. Is it not customary to apologize for such an action?"

"Is that why you're doing it?" Jim asked, slightly perturbed, "Because it's customary?" Spock was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed once more on a patch of carpet near Jim's feet. When finally he spoke, his tone was low and uncertain.

"I must admit I feel a deep sense of regret and…remorse. I am ashamed of what I have done to you." Jim stepped further into the room, his arms held loosely at his sides. All the voices in his head were quiet now, the panic of indecision washed away by Spock's presence.

"Spock," he murmured, reaching out and setting his hand lightly against Spock's shoulder, "It's alright. You were only trying to help me, and you did. And in all honesty, I don't mind what happened. It felt…it's alright"

"You do not mind?" Spock asked, his hand hovering hesitantly between them.

"No," Jim said with a smile, squeezing the other man's shoulder slightly, "in fact I was wondering when you wanted me to pay you back."

"…I beg your pardon Jim?"

"Oh come on," Jim drawled, stepping further into Spock's personal space than was strictly necessary. "Surely you've heard the old saying? You scratch my back, I scratch yours, right?" Spock's eyes widened slightly at the statement.

"Jim, I do not believe that would be appropriate. In addition, I am not experiencing skin irritation at this time. That action would not be necessary."

"You didn't seem to think it was so inappropriate a little while ago," Jim replied, casually obliterating the remaining area between them. "But if you don't need a back scratch I could always give you a massage instead." Jim felt Spock's arms come up gradually around him, his long fingered hands resting against his waist.

"Are you propositioning me, Jim?"

"Maybe. You got a problem with that?"

"I must admit, I am not adverse to…this." He indicated their intertwined forms with a nod of his head.

"What about this?" Jim whispered, reaching up to run a finger along the line of Spock's lips. The Vulcan growled faintly and reached up to take Jim's hand in his. He could feel the faint tingle starting up again.

"No, Jim."

"Wait," Jim queried. "No as in you're 'not adverse', or no as in 'Yo, stop that'?"

"I am desirous of your person, Jim," Spock replied, bending down to run his lips lightly against the curve of Jim's neck. Jim moaned and ran his hand underneath the thin, black material of Spock's shirt. His skin was smooth and uncommonly warm. Jim pulled at the edges of the shirt, attempting to remove it and reveal more of the Vulcan's skin. He was halted momentarily when Spock took a half step back.

"Jim, what are you doing?" he asked, attempting to tug his shirt back into place.

"What, don't you want your massage?" Jim teased unrelentingly. He began tugging on the garment once more, this time succeeding in pulling it over the Vulcan's head.

"If I am to be disrobed it is only fair that the same is done to you," said Spock, pulling at the hem of Jim's own shirt. Jim allowed him to pull it off then quickly did the same with his undershirt. When he was free of it he moved forward to press his bare chest against Spock's.

"May I inquire as to how you plan to give me a back massage from your present position?" Jim looked up at Spock and grinned at the comment.

"Alright, fine then. On the bed." Spock raised one eyebrow then turned and moved to comply with his order. Jim watched hungrily as he propped himself up on his hands and knees before lowering his stomach onto the mattress. Spock turned to watch over his shoulder as Jim climbed onto the bed after him, then moved to straddle his back. He could feel the weight of the smaller man settle onto his lower back, then cool hands came down against his skin. He sighed in pleasure at the touch, and allowed his body to relax as the hands roved over him. They moved up his spine to his shoulders, gently kneading away at imaginary tensions. It was really more of a formality than a necessity, as the Vulcan was perfectly capable of relaxing his muscles himself, but he found he enjoyed it nonetheless probably because it was Jim's hands on him. Suddenly, they withdrew.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Jim whispered, looking down at his hands, still tingling, "Back in the turbolift, and just now, those were your emotions."

Spock moved to turn over, and Jim shifted his weight so he was still on his knees, looking down at the Vulcan.

"I am a touch telepath," he confirmed. "It is difficult to contain my thoughts without concentration. You are correct. When you touch me…it is likely you are feeling what I feel, as I feel what you feel." Jim gave him a curious look, cocking his head to the side and half grinning.

"Spock, how much do you like me?" Jim's grin grew as he watched to tips of the Vulcan's ears darken slightly.

"I am…quite fond of you Jim," he replied, not quite meeting the other man's eye.

"That turned you on didn't it?" Jim laughed, leaning down into Spock's line of sight, forcing the Vulcan to look at him, "In the turbolift, when you were scratching my back, that turned you on. I felt it turn you on."

"Vulcan's have very sensitive hands," Spock responded, once again glancing away.

"So that's a yes, then," Jim grabbed Spock's face in his hands, forcing the Vulcan to look him in the eye. "You find me stimulating, don't you?" He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Spock's lips. He gasped sharply, his mouth opening slightly, and Jim deepened the kiss. It was just like in the turbolift, one moment he was on top of Spock, the next, wham!, the Vulcan had slammed him into the mattress.

"Inordinately so," he growled before returning Jim's kisses.

Laying there on Spock's bed, the warm Vulcan pressed against him, their mouths working against one another, Jim found he was very glad that someone had broken his humidity controls. Originally he had suspected sabotage. Now he hoped for it. His heart fluttered at the possibility that a certain steamy Vulcan might have tampered with them and bribed Scotty to not repair them, that this Vulcan, with his amazing deductive powers, had known that without humidity his skin would dry out, that his Vulcan might have gone that far just for a chance to touch him, just for a chance to scratch his back.

AN: Let me know what you think, about the ending especially. Also, I'm thinking about doing holiday specials. Any thoughts on this?

P.S. Does it strike anyone as awesome that uses the same abbreviation for Terms of Service that Star Trek uses for The Original Series? TOS.