Work Text:
Jim traced the finger-marks with shuddered breaths. The handprint was such a bright red, it could’ve been mistaken as paint, stamped perfectly onto a canvas; each finger so long and slender and unmistakably Spock. With his enhanced strength, it was sure to bruise and swell.
He and Spock had gotten into their fair share of fights — physical, emotional, occasionally both — and this was a reminder he meant every hit, every punch; every harsh word and slap. This wasn’t Spock allowing himself to feel angry. He’d used his full force, tried to hurt Jim, and succeeded, in more ways than one.