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cjs_owndisclaimer. Not mine. Never have been and I'll only ever be playing in the sandbox.
title. Make Myself Believe
rating. PG-13 for Content
Pairing. Kirk/Spock, past-relationship.
summary. Ten thousand things in the universe to fear, dozens of battles and attacks he'd survived, and Jim could not bear to look at his own son with the pale hint of green on his skin, the points on his delicate ears.
warnings. WIP, mpreg, angst.
notes. Written for this prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
st_xi_kink.
It was amazing, Jim realized, how quickly life could change. Take, for instance, what had just happened to him – grinning like a fucking loon while holding tightly the test results Bones had run, his body vibrating with excitement as his mind bounced and shouted. A father; he had never expected to be a parent nor to want a child, but to carry Spock's child had seemed so very right...
Then he'd walked into their quarters to find all of Spock's belongings packed, the man himself standing perfectly beside the containers.
Jim's heart had just about stopped and he hadn't had the strength, the emotional blow too much, to tell Spock about the child. Instead, he'd watched as Spock left, the love of his life left, just as he had promised he would never do and remained there, in the living space, staring at the door long after.
;;
At first, Uhura had assumed Jim had done something to the Vulcan, but once she found him in the communal bathroom just off the bridge, vomiting into one of the toilets...
“What did he do?” she demanded, slamming her hand into the keypad to lock it. It was rare for her intuition to flare up as it was at that exact moment, blaring at her in neon lights that something was wrong and it was not with something Kirk had done to Spock.
Jim shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand before pulling himself upright. He wobbled for a minute, his head still spinning gently from the force of his retching, then crossed to the sinks where he set about washing his hands as best he could. Only, he was stopped within seconds and one strong though small hand on his shoulder spun him to face the woman, who once again asked, “What happened, Jim?”
Maybe it was the hormones his system was trying to deal with or the soft, motherly tone of her voice. Maybe it was the desperate need to share his secret with someone; whatever the reason, Jim found himself announcing, “He... I don't even know. I went back to quarters to tell him that I was pregnant and before I could tell him, he started on some bullshit about how I can't do monogamy and how he needs to think of the Colony, that he has to do what's best for them, and I blanked out when he said he was leaving,” the words falling from his mouth unchecked.
Sighing, he shrugged again and wound his arms across his chest, a self-protective hug. “I'm not really sure what to do now – if he doesn't want me, then he probably won't want our kid. And if he doesn't want it, then I guess I have to decide whether or not to even keep it. I'm not really cut out for this parenting crap anyway...” If he was truthful, he might have admitted how badly he was trying to make himself believe the senseless idea that he could abort the child despite the reality of how much he'd already grown to want it.
For a moment, the room was bathed in silence, Nyota staring at him with shock in her eyes. Then slowly, it broke and flitted away and her arms went around him in the first real hug he'd received since prior to Spock's abrupt departure. It felt good to have some human contact, even if she usually tolerated him and nothing more, and some form of comfort; Bones was a good man, but he wasn't an overly demonstrative person and Jim needed that right now. Particularly as he struggled with what choice to make, be it single-fatherhood or no fatherhood at all.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured into his neck. “I'm so sorry. Do you need anything?”
“A few more minutes of this?” he asked, letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder with a sad smile. The last person to hold him had been Spock, two weeks before they'd broken up when Jim had faced what he now knew had been a particularly vicious bout of morning sickness, and his heart twisted at the realization of how much he'd missed such a simple touch.
“Okay,” she whispered back, winding one petting hand into his hair without hesitation.
They did not break apart until Sulu pounded on the door a while later.
;;
Bones knew before Uhura, of course, Jim having shown up at his quarters that night begging for something to help him sleep while mumbling confusedly about Spock and leaving. It'd taken him over an hour to calm Jim down enough to make sense of his gibbering and then he'd promptly offered to make Spock's life a veritable hell – Jim Kirk had laid himself bare, in all ways, to Spock and in return he'd left Jim pregnant and alone. For that alone, McCoy was willing to shove his own oath, to see the emotionally-reined man suffer if only for a few moments.
At the time, Jim hadn't taken him up on the proposal of hyposprays and early physicals. Now though, Jim's morning sickness was getting worse, his emotions were running high because of the hormones, and he couldn't seem to find sleep, no matter how long he laid in bed. He was exhausted and Bones was pissed – if Kirk was going to keep the baby, then he needed rest and proper nutrition and a support system, not wandering the ship at all hours of the night while subsisting on nutrient hypos and protein bars.
“Did you tell Scotty?” Jim asked him one afternoon as Bones waved the tricorder wand over him.
“Tell Scotty what?” He hadn't even looked up from the display screen, one eyebrow quirked up at a particular read-out.
“Did you tell Scotty about Spock?”
“I have no clue what you're talking about, Jim,” Bones answered, one corner of his mouth peaked upwards as he set the device down and leaned a little closer to his best friend. He laid a hand on one slightly-tense shoulder, adding, “Especially if it has to do with the temperature fluxes we've been having on Deck Nine. I'm a doctor, Jim, not an Engineer.”
After that, though, it was like a tumbling set of dominoes – Bones had told Scotty who'd told Sulu and Chekov; they'd told Chapel and Gaila, who had to be sworn to secrecy lest the entire ship become embroiled in Jim Kirk's private life.
Still, it was not long before the entire crew was shooting glares at the First Officer.
;;
He started to show in his third month (as Bones had expected), but the morning sickness stopped a few weeks after so Jim wasn't put out in the least by having to ask Janice for new uniforms. Being able to keep down a meal – disgusting as they ended up being – was far better than the humiliation of waking the Yeoman in the middle of the night to request the next size up.
Spock didn't notice, or at least made no indication he'd even cared then.
But the pregnancy became undeniable in his fifth month, even by asshole Vulcan First Officers, when he'd had to return to Janice to ask about maternity clothing, and by the sixth, he was no longer able to get comfortable in his own bed. The Bridge became a source of mild anxiety by his seventh when the glares of his crew became outright stares; Spock never so much as flinched under them.
So it was with some surprise, as his eighth month dawned, that Jim returned to quarters, PADD in hand with Bones' latest medical instructions, to find Spock standing beside the door. His hands were looped behind his back, his torso straight as always, and Jim felt a spike of heat pierce his belly.
Goddamn him! It'd been nearly seven months since he'd shown any interest in seeing Jim outside of a professional capacity... Unless this was not to show an interest in Jim, but to finally submit the resignation papers.
Resignation of command, request for leave, return to the colony.
Jim's mind swirled with the possibilities and the latent arousal brought on by Spock's mere presence disappeared, lost in the frigid reality that he could lose Spock altogether to a misplaced sense of duty to his race and Jim wanted to scream. Why did he have to go all the way to New Vulcan? Couldn't he sense...
He forced himself to stop, looking down for only a moment. Their bond hadn't been formed enough – like a fragile string, they'd begun the early stages of a link, tenuous and threadbare, only fear and illogical beliefs had held them back from ever truly engaging it. No, Spock did not, nor could not, sense the gift Jim carried.
And fuck him sideways, he was getting maudlin.
“You know the code, Spock,” Jim muttered once he'd regained control of himself, and added, “Hasn't changed.”
The door slid open before them, admitting both to the somewhat wrecked quarters. That was Spock's surprise, having always enjoyed Kirk's neat space – nothing had ever been out of place, not even a single sock. Now, however, there was a small pile of laundry beneath the chute, a few books scattered around the coffee table, and with a glance at Jim, he realized the man simply couldn't reach the items in question to put them away.
Bitterness filled his first question. “Have you not requested the help of the father?”
“Can't.”
Spock's head lilted to one side, a silent demand.
For Jim it was make or break time. He could lie, pretend the child within him was not part Vulcan – part of Spock – and let him go once and for all, or he could tell the truth, as he'd always done with the man before him. He could admit that contrary to whatever Spock may have heard or thought, Jim had not slept with anyone else, that he would never have allowed someone else to get him pregnant, that he wanted Spock and he wanted forever like some simpering woman in a romance holo.
But he knew he was only kidding himself, taking those moments for contemplation, because Jim had made his decision before even stepping foot in the room.
title. Make Myself Believe
rating. PG-13 for Content
Pairing. Kirk/Spock, past-relationship.
summary. Ten thousand things in the universe to fear, dozens of battles and attacks he'd survived, and Jim could not bear to look at his own son with the pale hint of green on his skin, the points on his delicate ears.
warnings. WIP, mpreg, angst.
notes. Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink.Chapter One
It was amazing, Jim realized, how quickly life could change. Take, for instance, what had just happened to him – grinning like a fucking loon while holding tightly the test results Bones had run, his body vibrating with excitement as his mind bounced and shouted. A father; he had never expected to be a parent nor to want a child, but to carry Spock's child had seemed so very right...
Then he'd walked into their quarters to find all of Spock's belongings packed, the man himself standing perfectly beside the containers.
Jim's heart had just about stopped and he hadn't had the strength, the emotional blow too much, to tell Spock about the child. Instead, he'd watched as Spock left, the love of his life left, just as he had promised he would never do and remained there, in the living space, staring at the door long after.
At first, Uhura had assumed Jim had done something to the Vulcan, but once she found him in the communal bathroom just off the bridge, vomiting into one of the toilets...
“What did he do?” she demanded, slamming her hand into the keypad to lock it. It was rare for her intuition to flare up as it was at that exact moment, blaring at her in neon lights that something was wrong and it was not with something Kirk had done to Spock.
Jim shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand before pulling himself upright. He wobbled for a minute, his head still spinning gently from the force of his retching, then crossed to the sinks where he set about washing his hands as best he could. Only, he was stopped within seconds and one strong though small hand on his shoulder spun him to face the woman, who once again asked, “What happened, Jim?”
Maybe it was the hormones his system was trying to deal with or the soft, motherly tone of her voice. Maybe it was the desperate need to share his secret with someone; whatever the reason, Jim found himself announcing, “He... I don't even know. I went back to quarters to tell him that I was pregnant and before I could tell him, he started on some bullshit about how I can't do monogamy and how he needs to think of the Colony, that he has to do what's best for them, and I blanked out when he said he was leaving,” the words falling from his mouth unchecked.
Sighing, he shrugged again and wound his arms across his chest, a self-protective hug. “I'm not really sure what to do now – if he doesn't want me, then he probably won't want our kid. And if he doesn't want it, then I guess I have to decide whether or not to even keep it. I'm not really cut out for this parenting crap anyway...” If he was truthful, he might have admitted how badly he was trying to make himself believe the senseless idea that he could abort the child despite the reality of how much he'd already grown to want it.
For a moment, the room was bathed in silence, Nyota staring at him with shock in her eyes. Then slowly, it broke and flitted away and her arms went around him in the first real hug he'd received since prior to Spock's abrupt departure. It felt good to have some human contact, even if she usually tolerated him and nothing more, and some form of comfort; Bones was a good man, but he wasn't an overly demonstrative person and Jim needed that right now. Particularly as he struggled with what choice to make, be it single-fatherhood or no fatherhood at all.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured into his neck. “I'm so sorry. Do you need anything?”
“A few more minutes of this?” he asked, letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder with a sad smile. The last person to hold him had been Spock, two weeks before they'd broken up when Jim had faced what he now knew had been a particularly vicious bout of morning sickness, and his heart twisted at the realization of how much he'd missed such a simple touch.
“Okay,” she whispered back, winding one petting hand into his hair without hesitation.
They did not break apart until Sulu pounded on the door a while later.
Bones knew before Uhura, of course, Jim having shown up at his quarters that night begging for something to help him sleep while mumbling confusedly about Spock and leaving. It'd taken him over an hour to calm Jim down enough to make sense of his gibbering and then he'd promptly offered to make Spock's life a veritable hell – Jim Kirk had laid himself bare, in all ways, to Spock and in return he'd left Jim pregnant and alone. For that alone, McCoy was willing to shove his own oath, to see the emotionally-reined man suffer if only for a few moments.
At the time, Jim hadn't taken him up on the proposal of hyposprays and early physicals. Now though, Jim's morning sickness was getting worse, his emotions were running high because of the hormones, and he couldn't seem to find sleep, no matter how long he laid in bed. He was exhausted and Bones was pissed – if Kirk was going to keep the baby, then he needed rest and proper nutrition and a support system, not wandering the ship at all hours of the night while subsisting on nutrient hypos and protein bars.
“Did you tell Scotty?” Jim asked him one afternoon as Bones waved the tricorder wand over him.
“Tell Scotty what?” He hadn't even looked up from the display screen, one eyebrow quirked up at a particular read-out.
“Did you tell Scotty about Spock?”
“I have no clue what you're talking about, Jim,” Bones answered, one corner of his mouth peaked upwards as he set the device down and leaned a little closer to his best friend. He laid a hand on one slightly-tense shoulder, adding, “Especially if it has to do with the temperature fluxes we've been having on Deck Nine. I'm a doctor, Jim, not an Engineer.”
After that, though, it was like a tumbling set of dominoes – Bones had told Scotty who'd told Sulu and Chekov; they'd told Chapel and Gaila, who had to be sworn to secrecy lest the entire ship become embroiled in Jim Kirk's private life.
Still, it was not long before the entire crew was shooting glares at the First Officer.
He started to show in his third month (as Bones had expected), but the morning sickness stopped a few weeks after so Jim wasn't put out in the least by having to ask Janice for new uniforms. Being able to keep down a meal – disgusting as they ended up being – was far better than the humiliation of waking the Yeoman in the middle of the night to request the next size up.
Spock didn't notice, or at least made no indication he'd even cared then.
But the pregnancy became undeniable in his fifth month, even by asshole Vulcan First Officers, when he'd had to return to Janice to ask about maternity clothing, and by the sixth, he was no longer able to get comfortable in his own bed. The Bridge became a source of mild anxiety by his seventh when the glares of his crew became outright stares; Spock never so much as flinched under them.
So it was with some surprise, as his eighth month dawned, that Jim returned to quarters, PADD in hand with Bones' latest medical instructions, to find Spock standing beside the door. His hands were looped behind his back, his torso straight as always, and Jim felt a spike of heat pierce his belly.
Goddamn him! It'd been nearly seven months since he'd shown any interest in seeing Jim outside of a professional capacity... Unless this was not to show an interest in Jim, but to finally submit the resignation papers.
Resignation of command, request for leave, return to the colony.
Jim's mind swirled with the possibilities and the latent arousal brought on by Spock's mere presence disappeared, lost in the frigid reality that he could lose Spock altogether to a misplaced sense of duty to his race and Jim wanted to scream. Why did he have to go all the way to New Vulcan? Couldn't he sense...
He forced himself to stop, looking down for only a moment. Their bond hadn't been formed enough – like a fragile string, they'd begun the early stages of a link, tenuous and threadbare, only fear and illogical beliefs had held them back from ever truly engaging it. No, Spock did not, nor could not, sense the gift Jim carried.
And fuck him sideways, he was getting maudlin.
“You know the code, Spock,” Jim muttered once he'd regained control of himself, and added, “Hasn't changed.”
The door slid open before them, admitting both to the somewhat wrecked quarters. That was Spock's surprise, having always enjoyed Kirk's neat space – nothing had ever been out of place, not even a single sock. Now, however, there was a small pile of laundry beneath the chute, a few books scattered around the coffee table, and with a glance at Jim, he realized the man simply couldn't reach the items in question to put them away.
Bitterness filled his first question. “Have you not requested the help of the father?”
“Can't.”
Spock's head lilted to one side, a silent demand.
For Jim it was make or break time. He could lie, pretend the child within him was not part Vulcan – part of Spock – and let him go once and for all, or he could tell the truth, as he'd always done with the man before him. He could admit that contrary to whatever Spock may have heard or thought, Jim had not slept with anyone else, that he would never have allowed someone else to get him pregnant, that he wanted Spock and he wanted forever like some simpering woman in a romance holo.
But he knew he was only kidding himself, taking those moments for contemplation, because Jim had made his decision before even stepping foot in the room.
