Was it a kind of insanity, having your heart broken by the same person twice? Even though you knew to expect it, that morally and ethically you knew you needed to hear the words to keep you from being the worst sort of person? There was the salve of friendship, but it could never soothe the acidic bite of seeing Spock with someone else, of knowing what could have been or perhaps not.

Without thinking he rose from the couch as well, reaching out and grasping at his fingers. Human emotion welled, unfettered before he could clamp it down - relief, hope, guilt, acceptance, yearning. Defeat. Anguish. Love. Romantic love.

“Thank you, Spock, and... and I know. I’ve always known.”

He couldn’t fathom his world without Spock, not for any longer than, say, a stint as a Warden or some R&R or minor reassignments. Knowing he still had him kept the knife in his chest from stopping his heart completely, but deep within he wailed, raged at the unfairness of a universe who once again showed him what he could not have. Emotion to strong to reign in, unconsciously squeezing his hand before seeming to remember himself and drawing back.

Perhaps he was not quite so good as Spock at hiding the wet gleam of his eyes, the slight tremble of his lip before he mastered himself.