Three days later
Spock entered their chambers almost silently. Jim shifted in the bed to keep track of his husband. Propped up by comfortable cushions and still floating slightly through the pain medication Bones had given him before he left, ordering him to get some sleep. As if Jim had anything besides sleeping these past few days.
He blinked slowly. Spock came closer until he stood a foot away from the bed, almost as if he were hesitating. Jim smiled sleepily, which Spock took as an invitation. He crawled into the bed beside Jim and crowded close to his body. Jim sighed as a large hand cupped the swell of his stomach.
A tentative mindmelt was established between the three of them and Jim made a contented sound. He lay his head against Spock’s shoulder and sighed as it sparked off a burst of happiness.
“I’d like to call him George.” Jim said, tilting his head up. Spock’s other hand carded through his hair, and Jim hummed.
“Remembering one’s father by naming a son after him is an honourable deed.”
Jim smiled at the answer. It was so very Spock. It was funny how much Jim had come to like Spock’s Vulcan quirks.
“Sarek won’t mind?” Jim inquired.
“My father would not find it illogical to honour our clan thusly.”
Jim snorted. Vulcans and their damn logic. He wondered how Bones handled Sarek. If he was as exasperated with their many claims of logical acts and thoughts. They’d both seen how Spock pouted about leaving the cadets in the brig instead of marooning them as well. They hadn’t knows what Uhura had planned. They hadn’t tried to kill him, they had only made some bad judgement calls. Jim had made a few of those himself. Spock shifted and seemingly hesitated before asking.
“Will your secondary father be emotionally compromised by the naming of our child?”
Jim flinched involuntarily and a quick burst of darkness “ hurt “ powerlessness “ pain “ dirty unwanted pleasure “ humiliation flitted across the mental bond. He jerked out of Spock’s arms and gasped for breath as he sat up far too quickly. He wasn’t used to be being so limited in his movement. He brought his head as much forward as possible and tried to breathe evenly.
“T’hy’la?” a concerned Spock hovered at his back.
“He’s not my father.” Jim bit out harshly. “Secondary or otherwise.” And moved to the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror, before throwing up. He kept telling himself it was just the morning sickness, just that and nothing else, pressing the ugly emotions and hints of memories to the back of his mind.
It was just that damn morning sickness. Jim insisted mentally, kneeling in front of the toilet “ wiping at his eyes almost angrily. “Damn hormones.” He choked out. It didn’t make him feel better.
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Spock seemed to be more wary about touching him unexpectedly after that “ about mindmelting the two or three of them when either one of them wasn’t feeling their best. Jim would think that Spock knew “ had seen more than he should have “ and was disgusted.
Jim probably would think that, if it wasn’t for the tentativeness as Spock eased his hands over Jim’s body, the soft almost vulnerable hint in Spock’s gaze when the Vulcan reached for Jim and Jim let him. He let him.
Spock liked to stroke his sides like he was a skittish stallion about to bolt. Maybe he still was and the ugliness Spock must have sensed across the bond had only reminded him of their less than excellent bonding conditions.
It filled him with too many conflicting emotions when Spock held him gently, when he kissed him insistently and in that damn lingering manner that made him feel precious and sacred and some unexpected unnameable sort of perfection. He sometimes ached to just let go and bury himself in Spock’s embrace. It shouldn’t feel so safe. Spock of all people shouldn’t feel like something so acceptably close to inspiring warmth and feeling cherished and a sense of home, not when Spock had taken the same route as several others. Taking him, trying to posses him, not letting him fucking breathe when he needed to.
It scared him. James Tiberius Kirk had faced many things, but affection in a sexual relationship scared still the hell out of him. He wondered if it always would, because Spock seemed to have made it his own personal goal to have Jim feel at ease with everything and anything he did to him. Jim was starting to feel inclined to let him, let him try and maybe even possibly succeed, and that scared him even more than anything else.
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Nine months completed
It’s strange to feel a child grow inside of you “ especially the first time. And this was the first time for James Kirk. It was strange to see his body curve gently, then swell, to accommodate his child. It was strange to have morning sickness “ especially since it lasted for most of the pregnancy.
It was strange to feel an elbow or foot or hand rearrange his insides. It was strange to have the innocent mind of his unborn child connect with his in the most natural and easy of mental links conceivable.
It was strange waking up eights months into the pregnancy, not feeling his child move “ not feeling it’s mental link and turning towards Spock to beg for absolution “ to just check. And then having that large Vulcan hand splayed protectively and possessively on the curve of his stomach “ only to have three minds joined as one.
It was strange, but not unwelcome. He’d never thought that he would be a father. He’d never thought that he could be a good one if he ever was. These last few months convinced him that maybe he could and would be an adequate father at the least.
eights hours of labour later
Tired and truly bone-weary sore beyond anything he’s ever felt “ because despite the ache he welcomes it “ Jim craves it. It means that he’d delivered a healthy child. He worked and laboured until his little son was expelled from his body. Jim drew a relived breath as an almost silent wail reverberated through the birthing chamber. Apparently even Vulcan babies disliked the dislodgement from the womb for the scary outer world. A perfectly bundled baby is placed into his arms and Jim is in awe. He knows he will never achieve anything more worthwhile than what he has done today.
The Vulcan doctors spout percentages at him and the rest of the room. From what he can gather Jim has delivered a healthy baby boy “ a hybrid of the same calibre of Spock’s genetic consistency. The child could be considered half human and half Vulcan. It was everything the Vulcans were praying for and for the first time Jim can’t completely fault them for wanting to bring this into the world.
Mesmerized, he traces the high cheekbones.
Just like Spocks
He counts the fingers and the toes and finds ten of each. He can help but tickle the child’s stomach, which gets him a solemn blue eyed look instead of a giggle - despite the mental thrill of contentment coming off in waves of the baby.
His eyes He traces small pointy shelled ears (Spock’s again) and fingers the blond tufts of hair.
His colour
Jim falls in love for the first time ever in his life “ knowing he will never fall out of love with this marvellous little creature of his. And when he meets the joyous eyes of his child’s sire. He thinks he might fall again just as hard for the Vulcan that gave him this son “ no matter how it all came about “ and that scares him almost as much as something happening to his son.
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