Work Text:
4 days.
Four glorious perfect days. Ninety-Six hours. Five thousand, Seven hundred and Sixty minutes. Three hundred Forty-Five thousand Six hundred seconds.
And his husband was still here.
Spock almost wanted to cry at the thought. Four days and he hadn't woken up alone. Four days and he hadn't felt the bond- which was glowing new and healthy like they were in their forties and newly married again- so much as waiver.
It hits Spock, that fourth morning, 5760 minutes after the strange younger blue eyed Jim came in with his Jim with those gorgeous hazel eyes and browned (slowly greying) hair and familiar wrinkles and stretch marks and pudge and a soft mouth and a beautiful beautiful beautiful heart and soul, that this wasn't a dream. This wasn't a fantasy he was going to wake up from.
It took four days for him to realize this was real.
He does cry at that. This was real. He was here.
It had taken him 4 days to believe it- probably because the past 4 days had been an absolute blur.
It was almost like a pon farr- in a way it probably was. The renewal of a bond could affect a Vulcan in such a way that it was similar to pon farr (but less deadly, and usually less urgent. Not for him and Jim the urgency was always there in their love)-
The past four days had been passion and heat and touching and coming and kisses both soft and otherwise somewhere, everywhere-
Spock let out another sob as he realized- he would have this likely for as long as he lived.
He was sitting cross legged on his balcony right now, naked except for a loose robe. It was early, the sun was just rising, but Spock wasn't cold- his sun was inside. In his- their - bed.
Jim was back. Against all odds Jim had come back to him. In the midst of their passionate and- there was no other word for it- emotional reunion, he hadn't fully processed it.
Spock made a happy little sobbing noise in the back of his throat, a shudder running up his old spine. He was here. He was here. Hewashereherehereherenow.
“Muh… Spock?”
Spock turned his head quickly to see Jim coming over, wrapped in a blanket and clutching two teas, rubbing sleep out of one of his eyes.
“James. T’hy’la .” Spock said by way of greeting.
“Hey.” Muttered his sleepy husband “why are you crying?”
“I did not mean to wake you.” Spock said softly, looking at him and feeling nothing but overwhelming, burning, love.
“I was kinda already awake. I was waiting for you to come back to bed when you started crying.” He gave him a smile “We should probably talk now that we don't have raging boners, huh?”
“I shall come inside-” Spock said, going to rise, but Jim shook his head. “No no- it's nice out here.” Jim came over and handed Spock the mugs. “Hold these please?”
Spock nodded once, holding them both and seeing that one was tea and one was coffee. Jim settled on the ground across from him. Spock handed him back the coffee “I see you found the kitchen.” He commented.
“You still buy coffee.” Jim said “but you had bags of it- all untouched.”
“Habit.” Spock said, taking a sip of his tea.
“How long has it been sweetheart?”
“96 years.” Spock said softly, ducking his head slightly.
“Jesus.” Jim mumbled “and you never moved on?”
Spock raised a brow “you honestly expected me to? You made me promise I would keep living Jim- I ate, I slept, I took one mate exactly every seven years so I did not die in the flames as I wanted to. I stayed safe, doing my relatively safe duties on Romulus. I did not do anything particularly dangerous until I attempted to fly red matter into an exploding sun to keep it from destroying a whole planet- a death mission, admittedly, but one that would have saved millions of lives.” He leveled his husband with dark brown, almost angered eyes.
“I did as you asked Jim. I continued living- and at this moment I am glad I did so as you are here. But Jim, if you had asked me to move on from you, I would have denied you.” This, Spock was sure of.
Jim stared at him, a look of wonder growing in his eyes- and tears, tears welled up there.
“... ashaya .” Spock said softly “I am sorry if I have upset you-”
“Spock.” Jim said softly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand “I just- god when I was younger I never thought I’d be loved like that, like this …” they locked eyes again “I love you. God I love you so much-”
“Jim…” Spock reached over to brush his fingers over the flushed cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Jim caught his wrist, turning to press a kiss to his palm.
“I love you.” Jim repeated “so so so much.”
“I-” Spock started
“Sh!” Jim interrupted “let… let me show you.” He kissed Spock's palms again. “These are bonier than I remember.” Jim commented “your hands. You've always had ridiculously long fingers.”
“Still just as sensitive, I assure you.” Spock responded after a moment, watching as Jim started pressing kisses along his palm and the back of his hand.
“Heh, I know.” Jim chuckled, nuzzling his nose against the palm “arthritis?” He asked, pressing his finger to a swollen knuckle.
Spock nodded, swallowing silently at the pain pleasure mix he got from his knuckles. That one kind of hurt, and Jim pressed an apologetic kiss there.
“Where else?"
“Where else…?”
“The arthritis.” Jim clarified
“My hips. My spine. My knee- I dislocated it, do you recall?”
“Ugh, yeah. I should have sued that asshole for all he was worth.” Jim half growled, recalling the face of the man who had hit Spock with his aircar.
“It was an accident .” Spock admonished.
“He hit you with his car!” Jim protested
“not purposefully.” Spock reminded, raising a brow.
“He could have killed you.” Jim’s voice became quiet, subdued as he remembered that incident.
“Many things could have killed both you and me. I could have sued starfleet for sending the Enterprise-B into uncharted space before it was ready.” Spock tilted his head.
“You should have. You probably didn't get the financial compensation other widowers get.” Jim huffed sourly.
Spock didn’t respond. He didn’t need too. Jim huffed out air through his nose, annoyed. Spock brushed his thumb over Jim’s temple, projecting peace and calm and love love love.
Jim smiled again and leaned in to kiss Spock on his temple. “Your all gray.” he commented. “If I had been here I would have teased you about each hair. You know that right?”
“Indeed.” Spock’s voice was almost amused, but there was a hint of sadness.
“Never again.” Jim promised “I’m never leaving your side again.”
“You do not have to stay.” Spock muttered “I am old and wrinkled and wholly unattractive.”
“Did you miss the last four days when I literally couldn’t get enough of you?” It was Jim’s turn to quirk a brow “Honey we’re both alive. Don’t you know that you’ll always be the sexiest being in the universe to me? I just want to touch you and hold you and kiss you until we die.”
“I would not be adverse to that.” Spock commented, and Jim threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my god I love you so much.” Jim rose to his feet “come on. I’ve been in the nexus cooking breakfast for an illusion that would never eat it for 96 years. I wanna make food someone will actually eat.”
He held out his hand, and Spock allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, his robe sliding down a bony shoulder.
They were both standing, face to face- well, face to chest.
Jim started laughing, squeezing Spock’s hand. Spock huffed through his nose and pulled it away to cross his arms over his chest. “James.” Spock chastised dryly.
“Sorry sorry!” Jim managed between laughs “But I’ve never been taller than you! Let me enjoy it!”
Spock huffed again, the top of his head coming up to Jim’s nose.
“I believe it is human tradition to threaten to send you to the couch.” He said, and Jim stopped laughing
“You wouldn’t.”
Spock said nothing, tilting his head.
Jim smiled again and took his hand, giving it a squeeze.
‘96 hours and counting’ Jim thought at him.
Spock allowed himself a smile, squeezing his husband's hand.
‘I believe we said always.’
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)
I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)”
- E.E Cummings