Entering Orbit (Kirk/Spock AOS)

Part Six

Spock wanted to take a cab back to Iowa City for the morning transport, but Jim insisted on driving him to the dock station. He haunted the bedroom door while Spock tucked his nightshirt neatly into his backpack, and he tried to navigate the asteroid field of emotions his brain charged into, watching Spock readying to leave.

Is this the last time I'm going to see him? Starfleet has to send me on a mission to the Vulcan colony eventually, right? We'll still talk. We'll send messages. We'll both have what we want. What did I think would happen, that we'd get married and live on a starship? It's not like this was going anywhere, anyway.

"Ready?" he asked, forcing a grin and starting down the staircase. "Do you want any food for the road?"

He waited for Spock to take the opening and come back with a quip that it wasn't necessary to provide nourishment for a paved surface, but he just shook his head.

"Let's go, then."

The ride was silent, and Jim was painfully aware of how tightly Spock's arms were clasped to his sides; how his fingers curled into the leather jacket; how, around a curve, and only for a moment, Spock lay his head against Jim's shoulder.

The station wasn't crowded. Jim pulled up in front of the doors and shut off the bike. He felt Spock's arms fall away from him. Inwardly, something began to hurt again.

"Got your ticket?" he asked brightly, but it was in vain, because Spock looked at him despondently over the seat. Jim sighed and walked around to him.

"I'll see you soon," he lied, shoving his hands into his pockets. The crease between Spock's eyebrows, the one Jim hadn't seen since he arrived, was back and severely pronounced. Stepping forward, Jim smoothed a thumb over it.

"Don't," he said, sliding his hand across Spock's face to cup his chin. He kissed him harder than he meant to, taking his face in both hands. Their mouths pressed together so roughly it hurt, but he didn't stop. He nipped at Spock's lips, sliding his tongue against his, tasting his own blood where Spock bit him. Spock brought his hands up and placed them on top of Jim's, gently stroking along the back of them. Jim's thoughts were a litany of missyoumissyoumissyou and Spock spoke against his lips once, quietly.

"Jim."

Spock didn't look back as he walked into the station, and Jim didn't look back as he climbed on his bike and rode away. He was grateful for the long stretches of dirt. He opened the throttle and let the bike surge under him, tearing down the road with terrible speed. Something ached in his chest and rose to his throat. His eyes stung from the wind and dirt whipping into them, and his vision blurred. He pulled over to the side and wiped away the dust-stained streaks on his face, but more tears fell. Closing his eyes, he pressed a fist to his chest and breathed through his mouth, unsteady and choked. He gripped the handle tightly with his left hand.

"Fuck," he swore. He stayed like that a long time, the bike humming beneath him, trying to put words to the gnawing emptiness inside of him.

***

There were no messages on his comm when he got home, and no messages arrived.

>> i miss you

He typed the words but never pressed "send."

***

Jim decided to stay in Riverside through the weekend. He booked a return ticket for Monday morning and called Bones to let him know he'd be back soon.

"Will you be traveling alone?" Bones asked.

"Yeah," Jim answered flatly.

"I'm real sorry to hear that, kiddo."