The word smashed through him, even though a part of him had hoped they
would come. Even so, they hit like a physical blow, making his head spin
and his chest ache. He had always run from those three little words like
they were poison, hooks to be sunk into his flesh and hold him down. Words
he didn't truly deserve or want.
But when Spock said them... it was different. His mind flashed back to
being separated by such thin, thin glass, and how he had wanted nothing
more than to be able to touch Spock one more time as he felt himself slip
away. He had asked not to feel, but the truth was he had felt to much in
that moment - fear over so many things, anger, shame, and regret. If Spock
had just been able to hold him in that final moment, would he have known
then?
"Screw you," he growled before reaching out with his other hand to cup the
back of Spock's head, grip the short black hair and tug him in sharp and
hard.
Their lips crashed together, the kiss anything but elegant, if passionate.
It was the kiss of a desperate man, seeking to taste something he wasn't
sure he'd ever taste again. It was different from that time beneath the
mistletoe, but that made this all the more important to him, the way their
lips moved against each other, seeking.
no subject
The word smashed through him, even though a part of him had hoped they would come. Even so, they hit like a physical blow, making his head spin and his chest ache. He had always run from those three little words like they were poison, hooks to be sunk into his flesh and hold him down. Words he didn't truly deserve or want.
But when Spock said them... it was different. His mind flashed back to being separated by such thin, thin glass, and how he had wanted nothing more than to be able to touch Spock one more time as he felt himself slip away. He had asked not to feel, but the truth was he had felt to much in that moment - fear over so many things, anger, shame, and regret. If Spock had just been able to hold him in that final moment, would he have known then?
"Screw you," he growled before reaching out with his other hand to cup the back of Spock's head, grip the short black hair and tug him in sharp and hard.
Their lips crashed together, the kiss anything but elegant, if passionate. It was the kiss of a desperate man, seeking to taste something he wasn't sure he'd ever taste again. It was different from that time beneath the mistletoe, but that made this all the more important to him, the way their lips moved against each other, seeking.