Textual Attraction | STXI | R | Part 2/2
Title: Textual Attraction
Author: lalazee
Beta: rainbowstrlght
Series: STXI (Academy Days)
Rating: R
Length: ~15,900
Warnings: I faded to black this time. And you shall hate me.
Summary: Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting -and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made!
Author's Note: THIS is the ridiculously tiny, three inch screen, super sexy phone featured in this fic! <3 Thank you again rainbowstrlght for finding it!
The western grounds of the Academy were humming quietly with the buzz of couples and groups heading into town. Jim lifted a hand a time or two to acknowledge a greeting, but didn’t stop to chat like he normally would. He had a date -so to speak- to keep. The fountain was a popular spot to meet up, particularly after the sun had set. The ground basin of the structure was lit with underwater spotlights, making for an effectively stunning beacon amidst the endlessly uniform clipped grass and square hedges.
A single heartbeat stuttered in Jim’s chest.
Kirk’s gaze locked directly on the man he knew without a doubt would be Spock. His back was to Jim, leaving the cadet to appraise the seemingly endless length of leg, the cap of hair that shimmered a raven’s blue-black, and the distinctly alien peak of his ears. Jim jammed his hands into pockets, noting with a flood of good humour that Spock remained in his black uniform. Christ, if he’d known how the outfit had been cut specifically for this guy, Jim would have taken Spock’s earlier reply to what he was wearing in all seriousness.
“Spock.” Not a question, but a statement, as Jim enclosed the remaining feet between them. Spock turned, and their eyes locked.
Jim froze. Even in the pale reflecting light of the water, Spock’s angular features were distinct; set off and at odds with the lush, cupids-bow mouth and dark, eloquent eyes. The stately Vulcan was, much to Jim’s surprise, undeniably sexy.
A sharp slash of brow quirked once, followed by low, enunciated tones that betrayed nothing. “I do not believe we know each other. Do you require something of me?”
The polite, but rather haughty candour of Spock’s speech essentially told Jim ‘why are you bothering me?’ Jim’s stiff shoulders relaxed, an automatic smile tugging insistently at his lips.
“I do, actually,” he drawled, enjoying the arch look he gained in reply. “I’m Jim. Jim Kirk. And unless you’re seriously enjoying my textually harassing you all day, we should probably trade phones.”
Jim’s smile widened at the immediate light of realisation in those aloof eyes.
“If your intention was to perturb me in any way today, you were not successful.”
“Seriously? And I’m usually so good at it. You’ll have to give me a second chance to redeem myself sometime.”
“You enjoy being... impossible?” Spock’s inquired in a monotone; although the use of the word ‘impossible’ was a rather playful allusion to their previous discussion. “Illogical.” Even as Jim began to feign innocence, Spock added, “Though I regret to say I am not surprised by this.”
“Vulcans are awful quick -or maybe it’s just you. Guess that means you might be able to keep up with me, huh?” Jim teased, relenting to a smile once more. The flash of genuine amusement was brief as Jim reminded himself of the reason he was here. They’d likely not run into each other again after this -he and Spock had managed to remain out of each other’s orbit this long; what was a few years?
“As Vulcans are physiologically and mentally superior to humans, I predict no foreseeable difficulties in, as you say, keeping up.”
With a smile dutifully in place, Jim veered his sobering eyes from Spock’s face as he dug through his jacket pocket and produced the compact phone. “Yeah, well I’m a faster texter than you, so.” As if he’d won the argument from that alone, Jim held out the phone like the final punctuation of his sentence.
A single brow rose carefully, as Spock reached for the phone without qualm - apparently he knew when to pick his battles. That, or he hardly knew how to debate such a ludicrous topic.
As Spock’s fingertips brushed Jim’s, there was a single burning moment of contact. A sharp spark sizzled and snapped between the Vulcan’s molten skin and Jim’s cool hand, causing Spock to stiffen immediately; his hand now clenched fiercely around his phone.
Jim was oblivious to the reaction as he snapped his hand back and laughed easily, shaking his fingers loosely. “Damn, that was some shock! You been rolling on carpeting or something?”
“I do not...” Spock stared down at his clenched fist with an iota of wonder widening his eyes.
Jim rubbed the back of his stiff neck absently, and paused as still as Spock when the realisation slammed into him.
The spark.
The crackle he’d heard; the brief flare of electricity that had sent currents along his arm.
A low thrum of a headache coiled at his temples. It hadn’t been there moments ago. The base of his spine tingled unmistakably.
“Wow, okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say this.” Jim skipped a beat, then decided to throw all diplomacy out the window. He’d always had difficulties in that class. “That felt... weird.” He eyed the Vulcan cautiously, taking stock of Spock’s now nonplussed expression. “Did you do something to me?”
“No.” The Vulcan replied with a fragment of vehemence; his lips tightening firmly. He shook his head, taking a moment to slip his phone into his pocket and, Jim assumed, to collect his thoughts.
“No, I did not. The mutual reaction we experienced appeared to be caused by our... suited psyches.”
Jim’s stare was vacant and Spock elaborated efficiently.
“Vulcans are touch telepaths. We make a conscious effort to shield ourselves from the thoughts and emotions of others.” Spock seemed a bit exasperated. With himself, or with Jim, was unclear.
“Moments ago I was not as diligent with my mental barriers as per usual -coupled with the fact that our minds are of a similar wavelength.” There was an equivalent of a Vulcan shrug as Spock flicked a brow. “It was logical that these factors would equate to the psychic shock you experienced.”
Jim looked on at Spock with mute wonder. So the Vulcan did speak more than a sentence at a time. When he was... flustered? If he had been flustered, he certainly didn’t seem so now. Jim nodded carefully. It was intriguing to learn his mind was in any way similar to that of a Vulcan’s. Jim wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or vaguely insulted.
“Right. Got it, I guess.” Jim wasn’t particularly familiar with alien telepathy, but he’d heard his fair share of gossip to have a clue. Wishing to lighten the mood, he aimed what he hoped was a winning smile Spock’s way. “So, did you get anything cool off of me?”
Spock’s reply was to raise his brows, and pull out Jim’s phone and drop it carefully into his hand; this time no contact was made. “Indeed, the temperature of the human epidermis is lower than that of a Vulcan’s.”
“Smart-ass,” Jim muttered in good nature; tucking away his phone. For one awkward moment -at least, on his part- the young cadet looked to the ground, and kicked an errant stone. This was the fork in the road. Which would he choose?
Why, the most exciting path, of course. “So you’re coming with me to that party, right?” Jim was already spinning on his heel and heading off; looking over his shoulder to indicate with a wave of his hand that Spock should follow. For a moment, the Vulcan looked as if he would high-tail it in the opposite direction; but much to Jim’s surprise, Spock fell silently into step with him.
Jim had no inclination towards analysing the lilt of anticipation that fluttered in his stomach, nor did he question why he was essentially asking a stranger on a date for a holiday he particularly detested. This relationship hadn’t gotten off on the most normal foot, after all. Why change that?
“We won’t be long, I think. I’ve just got to take care of something and then we can sneak off.” Jim rambled comfortably, pleased to note how easily their steps coincided. Curiosity was a desperate itch beneath his skin, as he wondered with more than a bit of mischief how the stoic Professor Spock would react if their hands brushed once more. He’d refrain from play for now, though. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry? We should get something to eat after this.”
“I am not adverse to the suggestion.”
“Sounds like a yes to me!”
“Do you perhaps have some undiagnosed hearing impairment?” Spock remarked in a tone so polite, it had to be ironic.
“Oh, aren’t we fuckin’ hysterical.” Jim quipped dryly, but he couldn’t wipe that grin off his face.
***
It was a good twenty-minute walk to Neon; made longer by the slow pace Jim had set as he ambled on, chatting aimlessly to Spock. The Vulcan seemed generally content -or at the very least indifferent- to speak with Jim concerning most subjects of school and general interests. Neither of them touched on the subjects arisen via texts, but the undercurrent of knowledge remained in the infrequent glances they spared each other when their guards dropped. On one or two occasions, Jim checked his phone just to make sure they were on time -which they weren’t.
Fifteen minutes late, and Jim ushered Spock into the club. The establishment certainly lived up to its name. The pair were immediately harassed by a lightshow of festive pink and red lasers, most of which thankfully centred above the dance floor.
Kirk motioned for Spock to follow his lead, which seemed to suit the Vulcan just fine. Spock appeared rather uncomfortable and stiff with his near-futile attempts to refrain from touching anyone. As they weaved through the jubilant crowd of lovers, Jim found himself innately wedging his body between the customers and Spock, in hopes to keep his friend less than overwhelmed.
It did not occur to Jim that pressing his back against Spock’s chest a time or two would be just as uncomfortable for Spock as a stranger’s touch. Yet Jim was a physical person by nature and he expressed his happiness, anger, amusement, and attraction all through touch. He would be mindful around Spock, but he certainly wasn’t going to alter himself for anyone.
Jim found Bones at the end corner of the lengthy bar. Jim considered feigning surprise, but couldn’t be bothered to go through the motions, as he felt a sense of pleasure and accomplishment swell within him at the sight of the doctor animatedly chatting away to none other than Christine Chapel.
With an impenetrable grin gracing his features, Jim clamped his fingers lightly around Spock’s lean forearm, and navigated him towards the couple. It occurred to him only briefly how searing the Vulcan’s skin was even though his uniform. That was kind of... well, hot, for lack of better word. It was Jim’s libido talking, after all.
“Sorry I’m late, doc!” Jim chimed in cheerfully, pitching his voice above the din of thumping music. “I don’t think you’ll be after my company tonight, anyway.”
McCoy shot a look of distaste toward his best friend; he was clearly not pleased with the cadet for being late when he’d counted on him. “Guess not.” He remarked shortly. Bones eyed the Vulcan standing behind Kirk, but did not acknowledge him verbally.
“Christine, this is Jim Kirk. You know him as the pain in my ass, thorn in my side, and grey in my hair.”
Nurse Chapel’s laugh was husky and appealing as ever. Jim took her hand, and made a silly show of placing a kiss upon her knuckles.
“We’ve met, doctor. What was it Jim -severe allergic reaction to Andorian lubrication?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” Jim winkled his nose and dropped Christine’s hand. That was the problem with having medical officers for friends -they knew all the business you wish they didn’t. “Hell, can’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, right?
“Oh!” Jim stepped aside lightly, giving room for Spock to squeeze in beside him. The press of Spock’s upper arm upon his own reminded Jim once more of the veritable furnace the Vulcan was masking beneath that clinging unif - and Jim stopped the thought, before he descended into the gutter. “And this is Spock. My date.”
The twin looks of horror on both Bones’ and Spock’s face had so been worth the wind-up. Spock’s expression was severely subdued in comparison with Bones, but the flicker of panic in his eye did not go unnoticed by Jim, who’d been specifically searching it out with deviant glee.
“What in blue-blazes are you talking about, Jim?” Bones snapped; grabbing for his drink and downing half a glass right there.
Spock was already neatly interjecting. “I am not his romantic companion.”
Jim marvelled at the mossy flush clouding Spock’s ivory, sculpted cheekbones with unadulterated fascination. He shook his head, breathing a soft laugh. “He’s just shy,” Jim assured them with a conspiratorially dramatic whisper.
“Vulcans are not shy,” Spock retorted stiffly; his hands reaching to the small of his back to clasp firmly in place.
“Vulcans ain’t anything,” Bones muttered into his glass; angling in his seat towards Chapel once more.
Jim rolled his eyes at Bones’ manners, which had always left something to be desired. Then again, he and McCoy seemed to have that in common on several occasions. Normally Kirk took the grumbling nonsense in good humour, but on this occasion he didn’t want Spock to feel any more alienated than he already might be feeling.
Taking Bone’s actions as a dismissal, Kirk made his goodbyes and led the silent Spock out of the club.
“Well, that was easy.” Jim exclaimed jovially as he raised his face to the night sky. For once he was not intent on the stars. Rather, his eyes itched to further study his curious new Vulcan.
“Jim,” Spock suddenly murmured, easily grabbing Jim’s undivided attention. “May I make a personal inquiry?”
“Hit me.”
“My intention is certainly not to strike you,” Spock remarked, brows rocketing towards his hairline.
Jim laughed, and waved away Spock’s concern with a loose wrist. “It just means go ahead, inquire to your heart’s content.”
Spock was pensive for a moment longer as they strolled down the deserted sidewalk. “What was the purpose of your actions tonight?”
“Well, that’s a pretty vague question. Care to be more specific?” Jim idly studied Spock’s profile from the corner of his eye.
“Your rendezvous with Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel lasted approximately six-point-two minutes before we once more departed.”
“Oh, only approximately six-point-two?” Kirk quipped; warmth and humour kindling in his gaze.
“I was not keeping exact time. Please, satisfy my curiosity, if you would. I was under the impression human gatherings tended to last longer than the amount of time we presided within the recreational facility.”
Jim shrugged, and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. His elbow bumped Spock’s arm, and the Vulcan did not shift away.
Huh.
“Bones wanted me to meet him there, so I could back him up when he went to talk to Chapel.” Kirk’s lips quirked as his eyes fell to the dirty cement they treaded across. “He really does like her, I think. Anyway, I was supposed to meet him at seven. We were late and he ended up getting impatient of waiting on me, and took care of business himself.” He flung his hands up in a comical shrug, “My services are no longer needed.”
Spock nodded once, though the distant glint in his eyes indicated he was deep in thought. Jim was happy with the silence.
“You took note of the time twice before arriving and set a notably slow travel pace. You were not punctual by design,” Spock concluded.
Jim didn’t show his surprise. He merely smiled. “You’ve got no proof.”
“Indeed.”
They continued to walk in tandem, with Jim wondering how Spock had deduced his deliberate negligence to be for the good of his friend, and not simple laziness. The Vulcan saw far more than most people. Kirk wondered if that was an entirely Vulcan characteristic, or something unique to this man.
Regardless of the answer, Jim thought Spock was pretty damn unique on his own.
“Your actions were illogical, yet your desired outcome for Doctor McCoy came to fruition.” Spock still appeared to be puzzling over this matter.
“Does it bother you that I’m not a logical piece of your puzzle, Spock?” Jim teased, nudging Spock playfully with his elbow. The Vulcan merely stood ramrod straight, though yet again he did not sway from Kirk’s side.
“No. I am simply recalculating your flawed, humanistic rationale.”
Jim spoke quietly as if Spock hadn’t said a word. “It’s all right Spock. I don’t fit in anyone’s puzzle.” He smiled, but the light didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what makes me so awesome.”
***
“Spock, you have to try this place. The food is to die for!” Kirk pushed open the door of the Thai restaurant, the merry tinkle of bells utterly at odds with the sour face Spock was aiming his way.
“You would have me ingest lethal sustenance? Is that not the essence of an oxymoron, as well as highly illogical?”
Nonplussed, Jim snorted a laugh and gave the small of Spock’s back a light push, as he cajoled him into the spicy-scented air of the establishment. Once they were seated, Jim promptly tugged the menu from the Vulcan’s hands.
The icy look aimed at him held just enough dismay to leave Kirk feeling utterly unthreatened. “You’re not ordering,” he explained; lips quirking impishly as he peered up at Spock from behind his own menu. “I am. You don’t know what’s good, anyway.”
“I am not concerned with sustenance you deem ‘good’. I am merely concerned with the vegetarian options this establishment has to offer.”
Jim could almost hear the snooty sniff of distaste. Obviously this Vulcan was not an adventurous eater. That could be changed.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? I know this menu like the back of my hand.” Kirk made a show of inspecting the back of his hand, and then frowned. “Was that freckle always there?” He looked up at Spock with a grin, “Kidding, I’m kidding.” Probably.
“Are you considered humorous by human standards?”
Jim laughed, accepting the very Vulcan-style burn. “Absolutely. The funniest guy you’ll ever meet.”
“I confess I find that information rather disturbing.”
“I’m cool with that,” Jim quipped easily; lashes lowering as he scanned through the menu.
He altered his usual choices to suit Spock’s preferences. Despite his undeniable gut attraction to Spock, the thought did not cross Kirk’s mind that this was a dinner date. He was hungry, so they were going to eat. The fact that he was having more fun with another person since... well, Jim really couldn’t think back far enough to find a fair example. That in itself was saying something.
Jim simply wanted to enjoy himself, so he would. Spock made it very easy for him to relax. Despite the weighted comments he dropped time and again, Jim didn’t get the feeling he was being judged or measured up in any way. In fact, he could almost swear that Spock was enjoying himself to some degree, as well. Kirk was aware that he’d pulled the Vulcan out of his comfort zone, but that was the spice of life, wasn’t it?
The tiny waitress came around and took their orders quietly, and within a minute had brought to the table a large pitcher of water and two glasses. Kirk was pouring them both a drink, when Spock came out with a question the cadet found more personal than the Vulcan’s inquiry over his cupid tactics.
“Why do you prefer this establishment to others?”
Jim had to admit the question was almost adorable. He supposed it was through genuine curiosity that he was receiving this question, and not that Spock wanted to get to know him better. But Kirk was happy for the conversation, all the same.
“Well, for one thing, I love spicy food. Thai food, Asian food in general. That aside, this place serves a lot of stuff that I’m not allergic to. It’s good to eat somewhere where I’m fairly certain my throat isn’t going to swell up, and cause me to die an untimely death on the floor.” Jim paused, and considered his answer further, totally unaware of the flicker of horror that crossed Spock’s face. “Well, except for the peanuts. They use a lot of peanuts. I’d probably have a heart attack if I ate one.”
“You continue to find nourishment from sustenance that may literally be ‘to die for’?” Spock inquired incredulously, his back ramrod straight as if he were preparing to stand up, and jerk Jim right out of the restaurant.
Hearing the Vulcan turn an idiom so completely upon its head had a rare belly laugh bursting colourfully from Jim’s lips. The cadet’s shoulders shook with the force of it, tears highlighting the bright, jubilant blue of his eyes. Kirk slouched back in his chair and sighed loudly, a wide, genuine smile gracing his lips.
“Spock. You are wonderful.” Jim found he meant it.
Their food arrived, and Kirk spent much of his time coercing Spock into trying the various spicy dishes he’d chosen. Spock was blatantly dubious to begin with, skittish as a small child who didn’t want to eat his vegetables. Once Jim turned it into a game of dare though, the Vulcan seemed spurned on to meet his challenge, and try anything put in front of him.
The highlight of their dinner had been when Spock had eaten something far too spicy for his liking, and his face had turned Emerald City green. “Now, if you hold your breath, what colour do you turn? I turn purpley-blue.”
“Why would I know the answer to this inane query?”
“What, you mean you haven’t tried to find out how long you could hold your breath for? I can hold mine for almost a whole minute until I start to pass out!"
“As I have stated once before, Vulcans have a superior physiology to humans. I would be able to hold my breath for a considerably longer period of time than you.”
“Fine. Show me.”
“No.”
“Fine then, don’t.”
“I am agreeable to your decision.”
“I see reverse psychology doesn’t work on Vulcans.”
“You have surprised me once more with your accurate deduction.”
The tail end of dinner went smoothly; both men too full to do anything but idly pick at their food, and chat. Much to Kirk’s surprise, the conversation was nearly fifty-fifty in give and take. He asked a couple questions, then Spock would. There was no rhyme or reason to the direction their musings took, and Kirk found himself more relaxed than he’d been in weeks, possibly months.
The soothing candour of Spock’s voice, the amber glint to his eyes when the light refracted through their depths, and the way their knees and ankles bumped companionably beneath the table, all lulled Kirk into an unfamiliar state of trust and serenity.
“Jim, may I make another personal inquiry?”
“I’m pretty sure we’re past the formalities of you having to ask permission,” Jim replied dryly; although a subtle affection caressed his tone.
“Am I correct in deducing you were under duress earlier in the day?”
“You know, for a culture that prides themselves on getting to the heart of a conversation, you sure do beat around the bush a lot.” Jim scratched the side of his head, and canted his chin curiously as he inspected the Vulcan’s blank expression.
“I assure you Vulcans do not lambaste foliage in any way.” Spock’s eyes darkened in a minute frown. “For a man who prides himself on his forthright manner, you are skilled at diverting inquiries.”
Spock had him there. Jim sighed. “Okay. Earlier in the day, like when?”
Jim could swear the Vulcan now regretted his question. He felt Spock’s long leg stretch out, his hot calf pressing against Jim’s. The warmth was comforting despite the unnerving feeling he was getting from Spock’s posture.
“At approximately thirteen hundred hours and forty-seven minutes.”
Confirmation dawned on him. Around lunchtime, Jim realised. Those senseless texts he’d sent Spock, moaning about his life like some pathetic child. “What of it?” Jim grunted caustically, his defences sliding up as easily as breathing-
No, that wasn’t quite true. With Spock it was a hell of a lot more difficult to guard himself. Spock’s eyes burned right through him. It almost felt like there was no point in hiding. Almost.
“I would not be averse to hearing your thoughts on the matter,” Spock intoned quietly. The unexpected undercurrent of tenderness in the Vulcan’s voice shook him. Spock didn’t even know what ‘the matter’ was, but he was offering himself as an ear if Jim wanted it.
And Jim did not want it. So why did he find himself spewing out information he would rather die without mentioning to anyone else?
“I don’t have any thoughts on the matter.” Jim flippantly informed Spock. “My mom is getting married for the third time. I’m sure he’ll be good for her.” Even Jim couldn’t convince himself of this statement.
He slumped forward in his chair, propped an elbow on the table, and rested his chin in his cupped palm. Kirk stared vacantly out the window toward the darkened, empty street.
“Marriage is a fortuitous occasion.”
“Hell yeah,” Jim barked a coarse laugh, couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Marriage always is, right?”
Spock did not answer for an extended length of time. “This upsets you.” He noted without fanfare.
“Mmmm...” Jim murmured, which was as close to confirmation as he’d gotten in his entire life.
He was so immersed in his own thoughts, and with looking out the window, it took a moment for Kirk to register the soft brush of fingertips against his own free hand; which had been previously clenched in an unyielding fist upon the tabletop.
Kirk’s wavering gaze fell to his hand; as he watched in mute bliss as Spock quietly unclenched the fist, and easily interlaced his slender fingers with Jim’s. Warmth radiated pleasantly from their joint touch. A foreign sense of comfort nestled in his chest.
Finally, Jim tore is attention from their hands; wary eyes yielding to Spock’s face. The Vulcan appeared utterly calm and totally complacent. The tiny, charming wrinkles splaying from the corners of those large eyes were the only sign of a smile.
***
The pause before Jim’s door was drawn out unnecessarily. Conversation had faded tensely as they approached, with Kirk’s mind busily concocting his next move. The dilemma he faced now had extended through the day, and it was a conundrum he’d never come across in his entire life.
Did he actually want to take Spock to bed? No, that was the incorrect phrasing. Kirk wanted to pounce Spock with every fibre of his being. No question on that front.
It was his heart and mind that put a stopper on his libido. This was a person Jim already knew he enjoyed spending time with. He wanted to hear Spock’s voice, to hear the quiet inflection rise and fall, as his fortified emotions waxed and waned with conversation. He wanted to know what made Spock happy, how he could trick a smile or even a laugh out of him. A single day in Spock’s presence had shown Kirk a dynamic mind, a guarded heart; a person that Jim wanted to know, not simply fuck.
If Jim put himself in the position to be rejected now, that would be the end of it. There were no doubts he’d scare the skittish Vulcan away. Ironically, Jim did not see himself as the skittish one in this scenario; even when he was so unusually concerned about being tossed away by a person he’d known for less than twenty-four hours.
For fuck’s sake, he’d only known Spock for a day, Jim desperately reasoned with himself. But when had Jim Kirk ever responded properly to reason?
“Well, as far as Valentine’s Days go, this one definitely tops my list,” Jim chirped easily, despite the personal weight of the admittance. They’d both stopped before the door to his quarters; and Jim leaned back against the wall beside the keypad, while Spock faced him with hands clasped dutifully behind his back. “Maybe I should try non-dates more often.”
“Non-dates?” Spock cocked his head to the side.
“Well, this wasn’t really a date.” Jim explained, lashes sweeping low as he looked to his feet for a moment. “It was us meeting to switch phones and me pulling you into my escapades-“ so I wouldn’t have to be alone on Valentine’ Day, even when that’s what I thought I’d wanted. “And you were humouring me by coming along.” Jim finished with an impish smile that didn’t calm the nerves jangling in his eyes.
Obsidian stare flickered, and Spock blinked twice in quick succession. “Vulcan’s do not humour.” Jim opened his mouth to argue but was promptly cut off. “What consists of an average human date, Jim?”
It was Jim’s turn to stare quizzically at the Vulcan. He shrugged, and folded his arms over his chest. “Lots of things. Mostly going out to eat, or drink, or a movie -or something.” Jim offered a graceless grin, “To be honest, I don’t exactly date much, so I’m not an expert.” He was an expert on other aspects of the dating world, but Jim decided under the current circumstances, that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say outright.
“You have more expertise on the subject than I,” Spock noted with a slight nod. “From your short description of an average human date, I can only extrapolate that we have indeed ‘gone on a date’.”
Jim boggled. Well, that’s pretty final.
He was, of course, extremely pleased with Spock’s frank and logical conclusion. But Jim was still nagged by something else. He was unable to place the reason for Spock’s interest in him.
Jim knew he was attractive, but he also got the impression that wasn’t really a factor in Vulcan matchmaking. He was easy enough to get along with when he wasn’t being purposely difficult, but, then again, Jim’s behaviour appeared to endlessly confuse or irk the Vulcan rather than please him.
Kirk peered up at Spock, who looked utterly serious as always. His words came out a breathlessly as he felt a flush creep along his neck.
“Oh. Right. Okay.”
Jim’s tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips; to his mute amazement he caught the splintering moment that Spock’s gaze flickered to his mouth.
That single fleeting moment went straight to Jim’s simmering blood, and sent a quiet hum of anticipation shimmering across his skin. If he was going to find any signs of encouragement from Spock, that had to be one. Doubts could be put on hold for another time. There was no forever, after all. Only now.
“If this is a real date, then I guess I should thank you for walking me home.” Jim murmured, stepping quickly away from the wall and closing the distance between him and Spock. He had a second to register the flutter of Spock’s inky lashes, the expectant hitch of breath before Kirk cupped a hand around the back of Spock’s warm neck and pulled him close.
It felt like the most natural thing Jim had ever done. The current of magnetism between their bodies and minds made it easier than breathing to simply go to Spock.
Jim startled himself with the uncharacteristically delicate manner in which his lips pressed against Spock’s. The kiss was quiet, and sweet, even as Jim canted his chin to find a new angle to explore those lush lips. Spock’s wide, fevered palms tentatively slid beneath Jim’s shirt at the small of his back, leaving every nerve in their wake ablaze.
The simple touch ripped a guttural groan from Jim’s throat, as he abandoned all remaining conscious thought and encircled his arms around Spock’s neck. Spock stiffened minutely, before he seemed to realise there was no possible way he could detach himself from Jim, and so devoted himself totally to actively warring his tongue with the eager cadet’s.
Spock’s searing mouth avidly accepted the enthusiastic tongue that dove between his lips. Jim’s hand bunched roughly in Spock’s hair, pulled him closer still, as if he could sear their bodies together until both of them simply combusted from the mounting pressure.
Never had Jim’s heart warred so wantonly with his desire. Never had they been so utterly intertwined that Jim could not find the beginning of his enthrallment with Spock’s mind, nor the end of his lust for those long, hot fingers and impossibly curvaceous lips.
With a single, ragged gasp from Kirk’s parched throat, he broke away for a second. Jim gulped a breath and looked to the ceiling, as if it would reassure him that this was real.
Spock returned the noise with something akin to a restrained whimper, as he blindly sought out Jim’s lips once more. Apparently, there was no time for breathing. Jim was perfectly fine with that.
How Kirk ended up sandwiched between the wall and a hot, hard Vulcan body escaped him, but it hardly mattered as their lips finally broke apart. Spock speared him with a fathomless, molten gaze.
“This is how all humans express their gratitude?”
Though he did not seem out of breath, his voice was hoarse and drove a lance of heat straight to Kirk’s gut. Jim nearly whimpered from the mere sound of it, wholly unable to stop himself from pressing his already aching hardness against Spock’s thigh like some wanton animal in heat.
“Only me... for you.” Jim explained between soft pants of breath.
“Jim -” Something in Spock seemed to flare open. Jaw set stiffly, he slapped his hands against wall, one on either side of Jim’s head. His pale hands fisted as he loomed over Jim; lean hips unintentionally jerking in response to another one of Jim’s uninhibited undulations. “This...”
“Doesn’t make sense?” Jim croaked; hands finally sliding from Spock’s shoulders, down the hard expanse of his chest.
He paused to rest at the waistband of Spock's pants. “Shouldn’t be happening?”
Some spark of sanity reminded him they were in the darkened corridor outside his room.
“Who the fuck cares?” Jim demanded, as he slapped a hand out; fingers blinding reaching for the keypad beside the door, as he fumbled to press in the correct code.
Without ceremony Jim tugged on the waistband of Spock’s pants, and dragged him through the doors. Spock, still apparently trying to unearth some shaking semblance of control, allowed himself to be pulled along. Jim took Spock’s assent as the deciding factor.
His voice came out just a little desperate as he lowered his gaze, and made his shaking hands busy with the infernally small latches on Spock’s uniform. “We won’t see each other after this, anyway.” It sounded more as if he were speaking to himself than Spock. “This is better. God, this is so much better.”
What had he been thinking in trying to deny himself, Jim thought with a flicker of self-loathing. Protect an imaginary friendship at the cost of celibacy? He could never do that. There was only now.
“There’s only now,” Jim repeated aloud this time; roughly sliding Spock’s shirt off the wide plains of his shoulders.
Jim was about to lunge forward and latch his teeth on the invitingly pale length of neck, before a pair of hot, familiar hands clamped around his forearms and kept Jim at bay.
“Jim, stop.” Spock’s voice was firm. Disoriented blue eyes rocketed up at the sound of his name, and wavered on Spock’s face. Jim could see the barely banked desire, and feel it radiating off the Vulcan in waves. And yet Spock did nothing, simply held him there.
“What?” Jim snapped; attempting to shrug off the hands that had become far more comforting than he would have liked.
Goddammit, what was so wrong with wanting to let go, to forget? To not feel needy or helpless, or wanting?
All of those things left you battered and bruised once you realised no one was there to sooth your fears and insecurities. The only thing Jim Kirk could count on was release, instant gratification, himself.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, Spock.” Jim went toe to toe with Spock; to jut his chin out as if asking for a fight. His eyes blazed. “You might be a Vulcan, but I can recognise desire when I see it. So what’s the fuckin’ problem?”
This was the James Kirk that Spock needed to see, Jim decided. The friendly, easy-going, trustworthy Jim that he had been with Spock tonight... he was an erroneous concept. Everyone enjoyed those aspects of Jim and he knew it; that was why he slapped on the brave face and kept at it.
That wasn’t all of James Kirk.
He had yet to grow out of being a fifteen year-old; angry with his step-father. Reckless and selfish, resigned to being alone and beaten down. The world had hated him, so he would hate it back. Jim knew no one wanted to see those ugly aspects of him. They turned away in surprise and disgust, left him with nothing, less than nothing.
And Spock -dutiful, brilliant, persevering, law-abiding, repressed Spock. More than anyone else, he wouldn’t want anything to do with that side of Jim. There was no doubt in his mind of this fact. So what else was there for Jim to give? He could only think of one thing, and Spock was currently standing in the way of that.
Spock ploughed straight through Jim’s aggression and got right to the point.
“What do you mean when you say we will not see each other after tonight? Are you going somewhere?”
Jim stared at Spock incredulously, “Wait -what? No!” He dragged his hands over his face. “I just meant after we fuck,” Jim refused to be charmed by the emerald flush grazing the tips of Spock’s ears, “you’ll go your way, and I’ll go mine. That’s how it goes.” He shrugged sharply. “I just thought it went without saying.”
“I see.” Spock retreated within himself, eyes dark endless tunnels echoing nothing back. “You are not interested in continuing a relationship.”
Silence stretched thickly before Jim found his voice. It might have been a bit more high-pitched than usual. “You -wait,” he held his hands up as if ordering Spock to stop; even though the Vulcan was merely standing there looking rather dejected, as far as Vulcan expressions went. “Me? Relationship... with me?”
Fuck, where are your words? You know, those things you learned over twenty years ago?
“I find it difficult to discern your sudden erratic speech pattern, but if I am to comprehend your question correctly,” Spock nodded almost imperceptibly, “then my reply is yes. I wish to continue a romantic relationship with you.”
Expressive brows lowered as Spock’s expression suddenly became pensive, poignant. He took a step towards Jim, who had wandered some feet away in his anxiety. “I was led to believe humans were entirely psi-null.”
It was Jim’s turn to marvel at Spock’s erratic, and seemingly disjointed speech pattern. “Oh, great, that’s an interesting fact -thank you!” He replied sharply, staring at Spock as if he’d grown two heads. “Anything else you’d like to share with the class?”
“Are you being petulant?” Spock asked calmly.
“Damn right, I am!” Jim folded his arms across his chest once more, looking like a stubborn child. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. First you’re all ‘oh, I want a relationship with you so we can be emotionally stunted freaks together’ and now you’re like ‘did you know your mind powers aren’t as awesome as mi -”
“Be silent.” Spock murmured; he quirked a brow as Jim actually followed instruction. The Vulcan continued on, nonplussed, as he closed the distance between them. Jim could feel the heat radiating off Spock’s body, and despite his worked up state of annoyance and confusion, all he wanted to do was pillow his head on Spock’s chest.
“I was led to believe humans were entirely psi-null,” Spock repeated, then added pointedly, “but this is untrue.”
He took Jim’s hand in his own, held it between them; palm up as if he were going to read Jim’s future. The pad of his thumb slid across the pulse that skittered erratically at his wrist; Jim jerked in a shallow breath. He remained silent as he stared down in wonder at the sheer size of Spock’s hands. “When we first made physical contact, my shields had been momentarily lowered by -” the momentary silence was almost embarrassed, “my distraction over you.”
A flush of pleasure bloomed across Jim’s chest at the admittance. Kirk didn’t know where this was going, but by the studious candour of Spock’s voice, it was important.
“Due to our instant compatibility, my mind immediately sought yours out in those three-point-two seconds our hands touched. Your mind, in turn, recognised mine and replied.”
Spock was no longer holding Jim’s hand, but sliding his fingertips along the length of Jim’s own in an action that was simultaneously soothing, and sensual, and entirely distracting. Kirk shook his head as if to clear it.
“Replied? With what?” For once Jim was uncertain he wanted the answer to his own question.
“You.” Spock replied simply, dark eyes cradling Jim with warmth. “All of you.” Spock must have clued in on the fact that Jim had no idea how to respond to that, and continued on. “I received several jumbled emotions and disjointed memories in that short time, Jim. It was not my intention for such a thing to occur; but had you the equal psychic capabilities that I do, then you too would have received many of my memories in the transfer.”
Jim grasped carefully for comprehension. “So you basically downloaded my personal life like some fucking computer?”
“I am sorry for it.” Spock sounded genuine; and if he was hurt by the severity of Jim’s words, he did not show it.
“Me too,” Jim replied bitterly; pulling his hand away from Spock. He couldn’t help but wonder what the Vulcan saw in him. And if he’d seen inside Jim as he so claimed, why was he still here? Why did he not turn away at the fountain hours ago, and save them the pain?
Jim turned away from Spock, and slid off his jacket to toss it haphazardly upon his cluttered desk. Expression sober, he stared at the opposite wall.
Dammit, he had to ask. Questions had always gotten him in trouble, but apparently Jim was a masochist. “So if you saw inside my head and all, why are you still here? You know the kind of person I am.”
“The kind of person you are?” Spock’s voice was suddenly right at Jim’s ear; breath hot and sweet and arid upon his cheek. Jim refused to turn and meet Spock’s eyes, and cursed himself as a coward.
“What -you gonna make me spell it out?” Jim’s voice cracked, much to his disgust. How did it come to this? How had this become so complicated? Then again, when had James Kirk’s life ever been simple? “A guy like me doesn’t work well in relationships. I don’t -”
Jim ground out a noise of frustration, whirled around and found himself wrapped in Spock’s unyielding arms. Jim glared up angrily, though the emotion in his voice bellied any true aggression. “I don’t do commitment well. In fact, I don’t even know if it exists. Never seen it happen, probably never will.”
Spock raised a brow slowly. One hand snuck beneath Jim’s shirt once more, fingertips caressing the length of his spine in long, slow drags. Jim let out a shaky breath as a shiver shimmied down his back.
“I accept this is the way you feel.” Spock replied reasonably. “But I am disinclined to agree with your emotionally corrupted opinion.”
“Gee, that’s surprising.” Jim begrudgingly gave into his needs, and rested his head upon Spock’s shoulder; eyes shut as he revelled in the feel of Spock’s hands igniting his skin inch by inch. Jim’s own hands found themselves idly resting upon Spock’s hips; thumbs stroking the impossibly soft skin of Spock’s torso.
“Not at all,” Spock disagreed; unaware of, or refusing to fall for Jim’s sarcasm. “I have felt nothing as strong as the emotions gleaned from your mind, Jim.” Spock’s voice was like a caress, even and gentle.
He nudged Jim’s chin up with his thumb and forefinger, and placed what should have been a chaste kiss upon Jim’s jaw. Instead it shot fire straight to his centre. “I felt anger.”
The tip of Spock’s impossibly hot tongue traced the shell of Jim’s ear. Jim groaned, and desperately attempted to concentrate on Spock’s words. “I felt sorrow, loss.”
Jim turned his head in an attempt to meet Spock’s lips; his hands now fiercely gripping Spock’s hips. The Vulcan evaded the clumsy move with grace, and leaned forward slightly to graze his teeth along Jim’s neck. Jim’s breath caught in his throat. “And I felt hope.” Spock murmured finally. “I am positive I have never experienced that emotion until I felt it in you, Jim.”
“Spock, I...” What could Jim even say to that? If there was hope within him, he sure didn’t feel it.
“You ask me why I am still here.” Spock gently walked the bewildered Jim backwards, until his calves bumped the edge of his bed. Jim was too enveloped - in Spock’s voice, the fluidity of his movements, the emotion that roiled unheeded in his eyes - to stop himself from being pushed back onto the bed.
“Your mind intrigues me,” Spock murmured; kneeling to pull off Jim’s boots. Jim was positive he’d never had foreplay talk this intense, nor this stimulating.
Well, there was a first time for everything.
Spock had heeled off his shoes, and came to kneel above Jim’s quietly heaving body. Jim stared up, wide-eyed and intent on Spock’s face.
“Your face, your eyes, your body captivates me.”
Jim reared up, his lips parted to meet Spock’s. Spock merely leaned back and took the opportunity to tug Jim’s shirt off; an action Jim was more than willing to oblige. “Spock, for the love of God -”
“And your katra,” The Vulcan word slid from Spock’s lips like honey, heady and intoxicating, “Your heart, your soul...” Spock situated himself atop Kirk, his long thigh wedged between Kirk’s legs. Spock’s eyes held Jim’s without blinking. “Is the most fascinating thing I have ever come across in my lifetime. To ignore the most basic pull your heart and mind have on me would be,” Spock quirked a brow in a shrug, “highly illogical.”
Jim was now certain he’d never been more aroused by a heart-felt conversation in his life. Spock took his breath away. Made him ache in ways Jim hadn’t imagined were possible. And dammit, made him hope just a little.
“Very logical, Professor Spock.” Jim breathed, fingertips trailing down Spock’s abdomen. A coy smile lit his face for the first time as Spock sucked in a breath, his stomach shivering in response. “Now, are you going to kiss me, or what?”
Jim didn’t wait for an answer as he pulled Spock to him in a single searing kiss. The time for conversation was over.
***
Pale sunlight filtered through the venetian blinds covering the small window, and pooled warmly across Jim’s face. He murmured unintelligibly under his breath and rolled onto his stomach.
One hand jutted out from beneath the twisted covers, and slapped down on his bedside table in a blind, groping search. A ripped silver condom wrapper crunched between his fingers, and was discarded to the floor. His fingertips finally felt the smooth, familiar square of his phone.
Jim turned to his to lay his cheek on the mattress. He squinted one eye blearily and held the screen just inches from his face; his sleep-numbed fingers clumsily pressed the tiny buttons.
Jim had known not to expect Spock in his bed this morning, unfortunately. Though it was Saturday, and it would’ve been nice to stay in and snuggle - in a way that Kirk had never considered in his life - Spock was still a teacher at the Academy. That, and Jim still had a roommate who he hadn’t been sure was going to stumble into the room at some god-awful time of early morning.
For now, Jim had no problem keeping what they had quiet. What they had. Him and Spock.
Together. The reality of his situation had hardly sunk in for Jim. He wasn’t sure if it ever would.
There was one text from Spock. Jim propped himself up on his elbows, and opened the message quickly.
What are your thoughts on the subject of forever?
Jim blinked the sleep from his eyes, and his heart lurched in his chest.
Oh God, the card. Spock must have seen in it the accidental transfer. Must have experienced Jim’s emotions surrounding it - disbelief, anger, abandonment, resignation, and admittedly, hope.
Jim swallowed hard, staring at that sentence for what seemed like hours.
Oh, fuck it.
I’m open to suggestions.
Author: lalazee
Beta: rainbowstrlght
Series: STXI (Academy Days)
Rating: R
Length: ~15,900
Warnings: I faded to black this time. And you shall hate me.
Summary: Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting -and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made!
Author's Note: THIS is the ridiculously tiny, three inch screen, super sexy phone featured in this fic! <3 Thank you again rainbowstrlght for finding it!
The western grounds of the Academy were humming quietly with the buzz of couples and groups heading into town. Jim lifted a hand a time or two to acknowledge a greeting, but didn’t stop to chat like he normally would. He had a date -so to speak- to keep. The fountain was a popular spot to meet up, particularly after the sun had set. The ground basin of the structure was lit with underwater spotlights, making for an effectively stunning beacon amidst the endlessly uniform clipped grass and square hedges.
A single heartbeat stuttered in Jim’s chest.
Kirk’s gaze locked directly on the man he knew without a doubt would be Spock. His back was to Jim, leaving the cadet to appraise the seemingly endless length of leg, the cap of hair that shimmered a raven’s blue-black, and the distinctly alien peak of his ears. Jim jammed his hands into pockets, noting with a flood of good humour that Spock remained in his black uniform. Christ, if he’d known how the outfit had been cut specifically for this guy, Jim would have taken Spock’s earlier reply to what he was wearing in all seriousness.
“Spock.” Not a question, but a statement, as Jim enclosed the remaining feet between them. Spock turned, and their eyes locked.
Jim froze. Even in the pale reflecting light of the water, Spock’s angular features were distinct; set off and at odds with the lush, cupids-bow mouth and dark, eloquent eyes. The stately Vulcan was, much to Jim’s surprise, undeniably sexy.
A sharp slash of brow quirked once, followed by low, enunciated tones that betrayed nothing. “I do not believe we know each other. Do you require something of me?”
The polite, but rather haughty candour of Spock’s speech essentially told Jim ‘why are you bothering me?’ Jim’s stiff shoulders relaxed, an automatic smile tugging insistently at his lips.
“I do, actually,” he drawled, enjoying the arch look he gained in reply. “I’m Jim. Jim Kirk. And unless you’re seriously enjoying my textually harassing you all day, we should probably trade phones.”
Jim’s smile widened at the immediate light of realisation in those aloof eyes.
“If your intention was to perturb me in any way today, you were not successful.”
“Seriously? And I’m usually so good at it. You’ll have to give me a second chance to redeem myself sometime.”
“You enjoy being... impossible?” Spock’s inquired in a monotone; although the use of the word ‘impossible’ was a rather playful allusion to their previous discussion. “Illogical.” Even as Jim began to feign innocence, Spock added, “Though I regret to say I am not surprised by this.”
“Vulcans are awful quick -or maybe it’s just you. Guess that means you might be able to keep up with me, huh?” Jim teased, relenting to a smile once more. The flash of genuine amusement was brief as Jim reminded himself of the reason he was here. They’d likely not run into each other again after this -he and Spock had managed to remain out of each other’s orbit this long; what was a few years?
“As Vulcans are physiologically and mentally superior to humans, I predict no foreseeable difficulties in, as you say, keeping up.”
With a smile dutifully in place, Jim veered his sobering eyes from Spock’s face as he dug through his jacket pocket and produced the compact phone. “Yeah, well I’m a faster texter than you, so.” As if he’d won the argument from that alone, Jim held out the phone like the final punctuation of his sentence.
A single brow rose carefully, as Spock reached for the phone without qualm - apparently he knew when to pick his battles. That, or he hardly knew how to debate such a ludicrous topic.
As Spock’s fingertips brushed Jim’s, there was a single burning moment of contact. A sharp spark sizzled and snapped between the Vulcan’s molten skin and Jim’s cool hand, causing Spock to stiffen immediately; his hand now clenched fiercely around his phone.
Jim was oblivious to the reaction as he snapped his hand back and laughed easily, shaking his fingers loosely. “Damn, that was some shock! You been rolling on carpeting or something?”
“I do not...” Spock stared down at his clenched fist with an iota of wonder widening his eyes.
Jim rubbed the back of his stiff neck absently, and paused as still as Spock when the realisation slammed into him.
The spark.
The crackle he’d heard; the brief flare of electricity that had sent currents along his arm.
A low thrum of a headache coiled at his temples. It hadn’t been there moments ago. The base of his spine tingled unmistakably.
“Wow, okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say this.” Jim skipped a beat, then decided to throw all diplomacy out the window. He’d always had difficulties in that class. “That felt... weird.” He eyed the Vulcan cautiously, taking stock of Spock’s now nonplussed expression. “Did you do something to me?”
“No.” The Vulcan replied with a fragment of vehemence; his lips tightening firmly. He shook his head, taking a moment to slip his phone into his pocket and, Jim assumed, to collect his thoughts.
“No, I did not. The mutual reaction we experienced appeared to be caused by our... suited psyches.”
Jim’s stare was vacant and Spock elaborated efficiently.
“Vulcans are touch telepaths. We make a conscious effort to shield ourselves from the thoughts and emotions of others.” Spock seemed a bit exasperated. With himself, or with Jim, was unclear.
“Moments ago I was not as diligent with my mental barriers as per usual -coupled with the fact that our minds are of a similar wavelength.” There was an equivalent of a Vulcan shrug as Spock flicked a brow. “It was logical that these factors would equate to the psychic shock you experienced.”
Jim looked on at Spock with mute wonder. So the Vulcan did speak more than a sentence at a time. When he was... flustered? If he had been flustered, he certainly didn’t seem so now. Jim nodded carefully. It was intriguing to learn his mind was in any way similar to that of a Vulcan’s. Jim wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or vaguely insulted.
“Right. Got it, I guess.” Jim wasn’t particularly familiar with alien telepathy, but he’d heard his fair share of gossip to have a clue. Wishing to lighten the mood, he aimed what he hoped was a winning smile Spock’s way. “So, did you get anything cool off of me?”
Spock’s reply was to raise his brows, and pull out Jim’s phone and drop it carefully into his hand; this time no contact was made. “Indeed, the temperature of the human epidermis is lower than that of a Vulcan’s.”
“Smart-ass,” Jim muttered in good nature; tucking away his phone. For one awkward moment -at least, on his part- the young cadet looked to the ground, and kicked an errant stone. This was the fork in the road. Which would he choose?
Why, the most exciting path, of course. “So you’re coming with me to that party, right?” Jim was already spinning on his heel and heading off; looking over his shoulder to indicate with a wave of his hand that Spock should follow. For a moment, the Vulcan looked as if he would high-tail it in the opposite direction; but much to Jim’s surprise, Spock fell silently into step with him.
Jim had no inclination towards analysing the lilt of anticipation that fluttered in his stomach, nor did he question why he was essentially asking a stranger on a date for a holiday he particularly detested. This relationship hadn’t gotten off on the most normal foot, after all. Why change that?
“We won’t be long, I think. I’ve just got to take care of something and then we can sneak off.” Jim rambled comfortably, pleased to note how easily their steps coincided. Curiosity was a desperate itch beneath his skin, as he wondered with more than a bit of mischief how the stoic Professor Spock would react if their hands brushed once more. He’d refrain from play for now, though. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry? We should get something to eat after this.”
“I am not adverse to the suggestion.”
“Sounds like a yes to me!”
“Do you perhaps have some undiagnosed hearing impairment?” Spock remarked in a tone so polite, it had to be ironic.
“Oh, aren’t we fuckin’ hysterical.” Jim quipped dryly, but he couldn’t wipe that grin off his face.
***
It was a good twenty-minute walk to Neon; made longer by the slow pace Jim had set as he ambled on, chatting aimlessly to Spock. The Vulcan seemed generally content -or at the very least indifferent- to speak with Jim concerning most subjects of school and general interests. Neither of them touched on the subjects arisen via texts, but the undercurrent of knowledge remained in the infrequent glances they spared each other when their guards dropped. On one or two occasions, Jim checked his phone just to make sure they were on time -which they weren’t.
Fifteen minutes late, and Jim ushered Spock into the club. The establishment certainly lived up to its name. The pair were immediately harassed by a lightshow of festive pink and red lasers, most of which thankfully centred above the dance floor.
Kirk motioned for Spock to follow his lead, which seemed to suit the Vulcan just fine. Spock appeared rather uncomfortable and stiff with his near-futile attempts to refrain from touching anyone. As they weaved through the jubilant crowd of lovers, Jim found himself innately wedging his body between the customers and Spock, in hopes to keep his friend less than overwhelmed.
It did not occur to Jim that pressing his back against Spock’s chest a time or two would be just as uncomfortable for Spock as a stranger’s touch. Yet Jim was a physical person by nature and he expressed his happiness, anger, amusement, and attraction all through touch. He would be mindful around Spock, but he certainly wasn’t going to alter himself for anyone.
Jim found Bones at the end corner of the lengthy bar. Jim considered feigning surprise, but couldn’t be bothered to go through the motions, as he felt a sense of pleasure and accomplishment swell within him at the sight of the doctor animatedly chatting away to none other than Christine Chapel.
With an impenetrable grin gracing his features, Jim clamped his fingers lightly around Spock’s lean forearm, and navigated him towards the couple. It occurred to him only briefly how searing the Vulcan’s skin was even though his uniform. That was kind of... well, hot, for lack of better word. It was Jim’s libido talking, after all.
“Sorry I’m late, doc!” Jim chimed in cheerfully, pitching his voice above the din of thumping music. “I don’t think you’ll be after my company tonight, anyway.”
McCoy shot a look of distaste toward his best friend; he was clearly not pleased with the cadet for being late when he’d counted on him. “Guess not.” He remarked shortly. Bones eyed the Vulcan standing behind Kirk, but did not acknowledge him verbally.
“Christine, this is Jim Kirk. You know him as the pain in my ass, thorn in my side, and grey in my hair.”
Nurse Chapel’s laugh was husky and appealing as ever. Jim took her hand, and made a silly show of placing a kiss upon her knuckles.
“We’ve met, doctor. What was it Jim -severe allergic reaction to Andorian lubrication?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” Jim winkled his nose and dropped Christine’s hand. That was the problem with having medical officers for friends -they knew all the business you wish they didn’t. “Hell, can’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, right?
“Oh!” Jim stepped aside lightly, giving room for Spock to squeeze in beside him. The press of Spock’s upper arm upon his own reminded Jim once more of the veritable furnace the Vulcan was masking beneath that clinging unif - and Jim stopped the thought, before he descended into the gutter. “And this is Spock. My date.”
The twin looks of horror on both Bones’ and Spock’s face had so been worth the wind-up. Spock’s expression was severely subdued in comparison with Bones, but the flicker of panic in his eye did not go unnoticed by Jim, who’d been specifically searching it out with deviant glee.
“What in blue-blazes are you talking about, Jim?” Bones snapped; grabbing for his drink and downing half a glass right there.
Spock was already neatly interjecting. “I am not his romantic companion.”
Jim marvelled at the mossy flush clouding Spock’s ivory, sculpted cheekbones with unadulterated fascination. He shook his head, breathing a soft laugh. “He’s just shy,” Jim assured them with a conspiratorially dramatic whisper.
“Vulcans are not shy,” Spock retorted stiffly; his hands reaching to the small of his back to clasp firmly in place.
“Vulcans ain’t anything,” Bones muttered into his glass; angling in his seat towards Chapel once more.
Jim rolled his eyes at Bones’ manners, which had always left something to be desired. Then again, he and McCoy seemed to have that in common on several occasions. Normally Kirk took the grumbling nonsense in good humour, but on this occasion he didn’t want Spock to feel any more alienated than he already might be feeling.
Taking Bone’s actions as a dismissal, Kirk made his goodbyes and led the silent Spock out of the club.
“Well, that was easy.” Jim exclaimed jovially as he raised his face to the night sky. For once he was not intent on the stars. Rather, his eyes itched to further study his curious new Vulcan.
“Jim,” Spock suddenly murmured, easily grabbing Jim’s undivided attention. “May I make a personal inquiry?”
“Hit me.”
“My intention is certainly not to strike you,” Spock remarked, brows rocketing towards his hairline.
Jim laughed, and waved away Spock’s concern with a loose wrist. “It just means go ahead, inquire to your heart’s content.”
Spock was pensive for a moment longer as they strolled down the deserted sidewalk. “What was the purpose of your actions tonight?”
“Well, that’s a pretty vague question. Care to be more specific?” Jim idly studied Spock’s profile from the corner of his eye.
“Your rendezvous with Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel lasted approximately six-point-two minutes before we once more departed.”
“Oh, only approximately six-point-two?” Kirk quipped; warmth and humour kindling in his gaze.
“I was not keeping exact time. Please, satisfy my curiosity, if you would. I was under the impression human gatherings tended to last longer than the amount of time we presided within the recreational facility.”
Jim shrugged, and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. His elbow bumped Spock’s arm, and the Vulcan did not shift away.
Huh.
“Bones wanted me to meet him there, so I could back him up when he went to talk to Chapel.” Kirk’s lips quirked as his eyes fell to the dirty cement they treaded across. “He really does like her, I think. Anyway, I was supposed to meet him at seven. We were late and he ended up getting impatient of waiting on me, and took care of business himself.” He flung his hands up in a comical shrug, “My services are no longer needed.”
Spock nodded once, though the distant glint in his eyes indicated he was deep in thought. Jim was happy with the silence.
“You took note of the time twice before arriving and set a notably slow travel pace. You were not punctual by design,” Spock concluded.
Jim didn’t show his surprise. He merely smiled. “You’ve got no proof.”
“Indeed.”
They continued to walk in tandem, with Jim wondering how Spock had deduced his deliberate negligence to be for the good of his friend, and not simple laziness. The Vulcan saw far more than most people. Kirk wondered if that was an entirely Vulcan characteristic, or something unique to this man.
Regardless of the answer, Jim thought Spock was pretty damn unique on his own.
“Your actions were illogical, yet your desired outcome for Doctor McCoy came to fruition.” Spock still appeared to be puzzling over this matter.
“Does it bother you that I’m not a logical piece of your puzzle, Spock?” Jim teased, nudging Spock playfully with his elbow. The Vulcan merely stood ramrod straight, though yet again he did not sway from Kirk’s side.
“No. I am simply recalculating your flawed, humanistic rationale.”
Jim spoke quietly as if Spock hadn’t said a word. “It’s all right Spock. I don’t fit in anyone’s puzzle.” He smiled, but the light didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what makes me so awesome.”
***
“Spock, you have to try this place. The food is to die for!” Kirk pushed open the door of the Thai restaurant, the merry tinkle of bells utterly at odds with the sour face Spock was aiming his way.
“You would have me ingest lethal sustenance? Is that not the essence of an oxymoron, as well as highly illogical?”
Nonplussed, Jim snorted a laugh and gave the small of Spock’s back a light push, as he cajoled him into the spicy-scented air of the establishment. Once they were seated, Jim promptly tugged the menu from the Vulcan’s hands.
The icy look aimed at him held just enough dismay to leave Kirk feeling utterly unthreatened. “You’re not ordering,” he explained; lips quirking impishly as he peered up at Spock from behind his own menu. “I am. You don’t know what’s good, anyway.”
“I am not concerned with sustenance you deem ‘good’. I am merely concerned with the vegetarian options this establishment has to offer.”
Jim could almost hear the snooty sniff of distaste. Obviously this Vulcan was not an adventurous eater. That could be changed.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? I know this menu like the back of my hand.” Kirk made a show of inspecting the back of his hand, and then frowned. “Was that freckle always there?” He looked up at Spock with a grin, “Kidding, I’m kidding.” Probably.
“Are you considered humorous by human standards?”
Jim laughed, accepting the very Vulcan-style burn. “Absolutely. The funniest guy you’ll ever meet.”
“I confess I find that information rather disturbing.”
“I’m cool with that,” Jim quipped easily; lashes lowering as he scanned through the menu.
He altered his usual choices to suit Spock’s preferences. Despite his undeniable gut attraction to Spock, the thought did not cross Kirk’s mind that this was a dinner date. He was hungry, so they were going to eat. The fact that he was having more fun with another person since... well, Jim really couldn’t think back far enough to find a fair example. That in itself was saying something.
Jim simply wanted to enjoy himself, so he would. Spock made it very easy for him to relax. Despite the weighted comments he dropped time and again, Jim didn’t get the feeling he was being judged or measured up in any way. In fact, he could almost swear that Spock was enjoying himself to some degree, as well. Kirk was aware that he’d pulled the Vulcan out of his comfort zone, but that was the spice of life, wasn’t it?
The tiny waitress came around and took their orders quietly, and within a minute had brought to the table a large pitcher of water and two glasses. Kirk was pouring them both a drink, when Spock came out with a question the cadet found more personal than the Vulcan’s inquiry over his cupid tactics.
“Why do you prefer this establishment to others?”
Jim had to admit the question was almost adorable. He supposed it was through genuine curiosity that he was receiving this question, and not that Spock wanted to get to know him better. But Kirk was happy for the conversation, all the same.
“Well, for one thing, I love spicy food. Thai food, Asian food in general. That aside, this place serves a lot of stuff that I’m not allergic to. It’s good to eat somewhere where I’m fairly certain my throat isn’t going to swell up, and cause me to die an untimely death on the floor.” Jim paused, and considered his answer further, totally unaware of the flicker of horror that crossed Spock’s face. “Well, except for the peanuts. They use a lot of peanuts. I’d probably have a heart attack if I ate one.”
“You continue to find nourishment from sustenance that may literally be ‘to die for’?” Spock inquired incredulously, his back ramrod straight as if he were preparing to stand up, and jerk Jim right out of the restaurant.
Hearing the Vulcan turn an idiom so completely upon its head had a rare belly laugh bursting colourfully from Jim’s lips. The cadet’s shoulders shook with the force of it, tears highlighting the bright, jubilant blue of his eyes. Kirk slouched back in his chair and sighed loudly, a wide, genuine smile gracing his lips.
“Spock. You are wonderful.” Jim found he meant it.
Their food arrived, and Kirk spent much of his time coercing Spock into trying the various spicy dishes he’d chosen. Spock was blatantly dubious to begin with, skittish as a small child who didn’t want to eat his vegetables. Once Jim turned it into a game of dare though, the Vulcan seemed spurned on to meet his challenge, and try anything put in front of him.
The highlight of their dinner had been when Spock had eaten something far too spicy for his liking, and his face had turned Emerald City green. “Now, if you hold your breath, what colour do you turn? I turn purpley-blue.”
“Why would I know the answer to this inane query?”
“What, you mean you haven’t tried to find out how long you could hold your breath for? I can hold mine for almost a whole minute until I start to pass out!"
“As I have stated once before, Vulcans have a superior physiology to humans. I would be able to hold my breath for a considerably longer period of time than you.”
“Fine. Show me.”
“No.”
“Fine then, don’t.”
“I am agreeable to your decision.”
“I see reverse psychology doesn’t work on Vulcans.”
“You have surprised me once more with your accurate deduction.”
The tail end of dinner went smoothly; both men too full to do anything but idly pick at their food, and chat. Much to Kirk’s surprise, the conversation was nearly fifty-fifty in give and take. He asked a couple questions, then Spock would. There was no rhyme or reason to the direction their musings took, and Kirk found himself more relaxed than he’d been in weeks, possibly months.
The soothing candour of Spock’s voice, the amber glint to his eyes when the light refracted through their depths, and the way their knees and ankles bumped companionably beneath the table, all lulled Kirk into an unfamiliar state of trust and serenity.
“Jim, may I make another personal inquiry?”
“I’m pretty sure we’re past the formalities of you having to ask permission,” Jim replied dryly; although a subtle affection caressed his tone.
“Am I correct in deducing you were under duress earlier in the day?”
“You know, for a culture that prides themselves on getting to the heart of a conversation, you sure do beat around the bush a lot.” Jim scratched the side of his head, and canted his chin curiously as he inspected the Vulcan’s blank expression.
“I assure you Vulcans do not lambaste foliage in any way.” Spock’s eyes darkened in a minute frown. “For a man who prides himself on his forthright manner, you are skilled at diverting inquiries.”
Spock had him there. Jim sighed. “Okay. Earlier in the day, like when?”
Jim could swear the Vulcan now regretted his question. He felt Spock’s long leg stretch out, his hot calf pressing against Jim’s. The warmth was comforting despite the unnerving feeling he was getting from Spock’s posture.
“At approximately thirteen hundred hours and forty-seven minutes.”
Confirmation dawned on him. Around lunchtime, Jim realised. Those senseless texts he’d sent Spock, moaning about his life like some pathetic child. “What of it?” Jim grunted caustically, his defences sliding up as easily as breathing-
No, that wasn’t quite true. With Spock it was a hell of a lot more difficult to guard himself. Spock’s eyes burned right through him. It almost felt like there was no point in hiding. Almost.
“I would not be averse to hearing your thoughts on the matter,” Spock intoned quietly. The unexpected undercurrent of tenderness in the Vulcan’s voice shook him. Spock didn’t even know what ‘the matter’ was, but he was offering himself as an ear if Jim wanted it.
And Jim did not want it. So why did he find himself spewing out information he would rather die without mentioning to anyone else?
“I don’t have any thoughts on the matter.” Jim flippantly informed Spock. “My mom is getting married for the third time. I’m sure he’ll be good for her.” Even Jim couldn’t convince himself of this statement.
He slumped forward in his chair, propped an elbow on the table, and rested his chin in his cupped palm. Kirk stared vacantly out the window toward the darkened, empty street.
“Marriage is a fortuitous occasion.”
“Hell yeah,” Jim barked a coarse laugh, couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Marriage always is, right?”
Spock did not answer for an extended length of time. “This upsets you.” He noted without fanfare.
“Mmmm...” Jim murmured, which was as close to confirmation as he’d gotten in his entire life.
He was so immersed in his own thoughts, and with looking out the window, it took a moment for Kirk to register the soft brush of fingertips against his own free hand; which had been previously clenched in an unyielding fist upon the tabletop.
Kirk’s wavering gaze fell to his hand; as he watched in mute bliss as Spock quietly unclenched the fist, and easily interlaced his slender fingers with Jim’s. Warmth radiated pleasantly from their joint touch. A foreign sense of comfort nestled in his chest.
Finally, Jim tore is attention from their hands; wary eyes yielding to Spock’s face. The Vulcan appeared utterly calm and totally complacent. The tiny, charming wrinkles splaying from the corners of those large eyes were the only sign of a smile.
***
The pause before Jim’s door was drawn out unnecessarily. Conversation had faded tensely as they approached, with Kirk’s mind busily concocting his next move. The dilemma he faced now had extended through the day, and it was a conundrum he’d never come across in his entire life.
Did he actually want to take Spock to bed? No, that was the incorrect phrasing. Kirk wanted to pounce Spock with every fibre of his being. No question on that front.
It was his heart and mind that put a stopper on his libido. This was a person Jim already knew he enjoyed spending time with. He wanted to hear Spock’s voice, to hear the quiet inflection rise and fall, as his fortified emotions waxed and waned with conversation. He wanted to know what made Spock happy, how he could trick a smile or even a laugh out of him. A single day in Spock’s presence had shown Kirk a dynamic mind, a guarded heart; a person that Jim wanted to know, not simply fuck.
If Jim put himself in the position to be rejected now, that would be the end of it. There were no doubts he’d scare the skittish Vulcan away. Ironically, Jim did not see himself as the skittish one in this scenario; even when he was so unusually concerned about being tossed away by a person he’d known for less than twenty-four hours.
For fuck’s sake, he’d only known Spock for a day, Jim desperately reasoned with himself. But when had Jim Kirk ever responded properly to reason?
“Well, as far as Valentine’s Days go, this one definitely tops my list,” Jim chirped easily, despite the personal weight of the admittance. They’d both stopped before the door to his quarters; and Jim leaned back against the wall beside the keypad, while Spock faced him with hands clasped dutifully behind his back. “Maybe I should try non-dates more often.”
“Non-dates?” Spock cocked his head to the side.
“Well, this wasn’t really a date.” Jim explained, lashes sweeping low as he looked to his feet for a moment. “It was us meeting to switch phones and me pulling you into my escapades-“ so I wouldn’t have to be alone on Valentine’ Day, even when that’s what I thought I’d wanted. “And you were humouring me by coming along.” Jim finished with an impish smile that didn’t calm the nerves jangling in his eyes.
Obsidian stare flickered, and Spock blinked twice in quick succession. “Vulcan’s do not humour.” Jim opened his mouth to argue but was promptly cut off. “What consists of an average human date, Jim?”
It was Jim’s turn to stare quizzically at the Vulcan. He shrugged, and folded his arms over his chest. “Lots of things. Mostly going out to eat, or drink, or a movie -or something.” Jim offered a graceless grin, “To be honest, I don’t exactly date much, so I’m not an expert.” He was an expert on other aspects of the dating world, but Jim decided under the current circumstances, that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say outright.
“You have more expertise on the subject than I,” Spock noted with a slight nod. “From your short description of an average human date, I can only extrapolate that we have indeed ‘gone on a date’.”
Jim boggled. Well, that’s pretty final.
He was, of course, extremely pleased with Spock’s frank and logical conclusion. But Jim was still nagged by something else. He was unable to place the reason for Spock’s interest in him.
Jim knew he was attractive, but he also got the impression that wasn’t really a factor in Vulcan matchmaking. He was easy enough to get along with when he wasn’t being purposely difficult, but, then again, Jim’s behaviour appeared to endlessly confuse or irk the Vulcan rather than please him.
Kirk peered up at Spock, who looked utterly serious as always. His words came out a breathlessly as he felt a flush creep along his neck.
“Oh. Right. Okay.”
Jim’s tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips; to his mute amazement he caught the splintering moment that Spock’s gaze flickered to his mouth.
That single fleeting moment went straight to Jim’s simmering blood, and sent a quiet hum of anticipation shimmering across his skin. If he was going to find any signs of encouragement from Spock, that had to be one. Doubts could be put on hold for another time. There was no forever, after all. Only now.
“If this is a real date, then I guess I should thank you for walking me home.” Jim murmured, stepping quickly away from the wall and closing the distance between him and Spock. He had a second to register the flutter of Spock’s inky lashes, the expectant hitch of breath before Kirk cupped a hand around the back of Spock’s warm neck and pulled him close.
It felt like the most natural thing Jim had ever done. The current of magnetism between their bodies and minds made it easier than breathing to simply go to Spock.
Jim startled himself with the uncharacteristically delicate manner in which his lips pressed against Spock’s. The kiss was quiet, and sweet, even as Jim canted his chin to find a new angle to explore those lush lips. Spock’s wide, fevered palms tentatively slid beneath Jim’s shirt at the small of his back, leaving every nerve in their wake ablaze.
The simple touch ripped a guttural groan from Jim’s throat, as he abandoned all remaining conscious thought and encircled his arms around Spock’s neck. Spock stiffened minutely, before he seemed to realise there was no possible way he could detach himself from Jim, and so devoted himself totally to actively warring his tongue with the eager cadet’s.
Spock’s searing mouth avidly accepted the enthusiastic tongue that dove between his lips. Jim’s hand bunched roughly in Spock’s hair, pulled him closer still, as if he could sear their bodies together until both of them simply combusted from the mounting pressure.
Never had Jim’s heart warred so wantonly with his desire. Never had they been so utterly intertwined that Jim could not find the beginning of his enthrallment with Spock’s mind, nor the end of his lust for those long, hot fingers and impossibly curvaceous lips.
With a single, ragged gasp from Kirk’s parched throat, he broke away for a second. Jim gulped a breath and looked to the ceiling, as if it would reassure him that this was real.
Spock returned the noise with something akin to a restrained whimper, as he blindly sought out Jim’s lips once more. Apparently, there was no time for breathing. Jim was perfectly fine with that.
How Kirk ended up sandwiched between the wall and a hot, hard Vulcan body escaped him, but it hardly mattered as their lips finally broke apart. Spock speared him with a fathomless, molten gaze.
“This is how all humans express their gratitude?”
Though he did not seem out of breath, his voice was hoarse and drove a lance of heat straight to Kirk’s gut. Jim nearly whimpered from the mere sound of it, wholly unable to stop himself from pressing his already aching hardness against Spock’s thigh like some wanton animal in heat.
“Only me... for you.” Jim explained between soft pants of breath.
“Jim -” Something in Spock seemed to flare open. Jaw set stiffly, he slapped his hands against wall, one on either side of Jim’s head. His pale hands fisted as he loomed over Jim; lean hips unintentionally jerking in response to another one of Jim’s uninhibited undulations. “This...”
“Doesn’t make sense?” Jim croaked; hands finally sliding from Spock’s shoulders, down the hard expanse of his chest.
He paused to rest at the waistband of Spock's pants. “Shouldn’t be happening?”
Some spark of sanity reminded him they were in the darkened corridor outside his room.
“Who the fuck cares?” Jim demanded, as he slapped a hand out; fingers blinding reaching for the keypad beside the door, as he fumbled to press in the correct code.
Without ceremony Jim tugged on the waistband of Spock’s pants, and dragged him through the doors. Spock, still apparently trying to unearth some shaking semblance of control, allowed himself to be pulled along. Jim took Spock’s assent as the deciding factor.
His voice came out just a little desperate as he lowered his gaze, and made his shaking hands busy with the infernally small latches on Spock’s uniform. “We won’t see each other after this, anyway.” It sounded more as if he were speaking to himself than Spock. “This is better. God, this is so much better.”
What had he been thinking in trying to deny himself, Jim thought with a flicker of self-loathing. Protect an imaginary friendship at the cost of celibacy? He could never do that. There was only now.
“There’s only now,” Jim repeated aloud this time; roughly sliding Spock’s shirt off the wide plains of his shoulders.
Jim was about to lunge forward and latch his teeth on the invitingly pale length of neck, before a pair of hot, familiar hands clamped around his forearms and kept Jim at bay.
“Jim, stop.” Spock’s voice was firm. Disoriented blue eyes rocketed up at the sound of his name, and wavered on Spock’s face. Jim could see the barely banked desire, and feel it radiating off the Vulcan in waves. And yet Spock did nothing, simply held him there.
“What?” Jim snapped; attempting to shrug off the hands that had become far more comforting than he would have liked.
Goddammit, what was so wrong with wanting to let go, to forget? To not feel needy or helpless, or wanting?
All of those things left you battered and bruised once you realised no one was there to sooth your fears and insecurities. The only thing Jim Kirk could count on was release, instant gratification, himself.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, Spock.” Jim went toe to toe with Spock; to jut his chin out as if asking for a fight. His eyes blazed. “You might be a Vulcan, but I can recognise desire when I see it. So what’s the fuckin’ problem?”
This was the James Kirk that Spock needed to see, Jim decided. The friendly, easy-going, trustworthy Jim that he had been with Spock tonight... he was an erroneous concept. Everyone enjoyed those aspects of Jim and he knew it; that was why he slapped on the brave face and kept at it.
That wasn’t all of James Kirk.
He had yet to grow out of being a fifteen year-old; angry with his step-father. Reckless and selfish, resigned to being alone and beaten down. The world had hated him, so he would hate it back. Jim knew no one wanted to see those ugly aspects of him. They turned away in surprise and disgust, left him with nothing, less than nothing.
And Spock -dutiful, brilliant, persevering, law-abiding, repressed Spock. More than anyone else, he wouldn’t want anything to do with that side of Jim. There was no doubt in his mind of this fact. So what else was there for Jim to give? He could only think of one thing, and Spock was currently standing in the way of that.
Spock ploughed straight through Jim’s aggression and got right to the point.
“What do you mean when you say we will not see each other after tonight? Are you going somewhere?”
Jim stared at Spock incredulously, “Wait -what? No!” He dragged his hands over his face. “I just meant after we fuck,” Jim refused to be charmed by the emerald flush grazing the tips of Spock’s ears, “you’ll go your way, and I’ll go mine. That’s how it goes.” He shrugged sharply. “I just thought it went without saying.”
“I see.” Spock retreated within himself, eyes dark endless tunnels echoing nothing back. “You are not interested in continuing a relationship.”
Silence stretched thickly before Jim found his voice. It might have been a bit more high-pitched than usual. “You -wait,” he held his hands up as if ordering Spock to stop; even though the Vulcan was merely standing there looking rather dejected, as far as Vulcan expressions went. “Me? Relationship... with me?”
Fuck, where are your words? You know, those things you learned over twenty years ago?
“I find it difficult to discern your sudden erratic speech pattern, but if I am to comprehend your question correctly,” Spock nodded almost imperceptibly, “then my reply is yes. I wish to continue a romantic relationship with you.”
Expressive brows lowered as Spock’s expression suddenly became pensive, poignant. He took a step towards Jim, who had wandered some feet away in his anxiety. “I was led to believe humans were entirely psi-null.”
It was Jim’s turn to marvel at Spock’s erratic, and seemingly disjointed speech pattern. “Oh, great, that’s an interesting fact -thank you!” He replied sharply, staring at Spock as if he’d grown two heads. “Anything else you’d like to share with the class?”
“Are you being petulant?” Spock asked calmly.
“Damn right, I am!” Jim folded his arms across his chest once more, looking like a stubborn child. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. First you’re all ‘oh, I want a relationship with you so we can be emotionally stunted freaks together’ and now you’re like ‘did you know your mind powers aren’t as awesome as mi -”
“Be silent.” Spock murmured; he quirked a brow as Jim actually followed instruction. The Vulcan continued on, nonplussed, as he closed the distance between them. Jim could feel the heat radiating off Spock’s body, and despite his worked up state of annoyance and confusion, all he wanted to do was pillow his head on Spock’s chest.
“I was led to believe humans were entirely psi-null,” Spock repeated, then added pointedly, “but this is untrue.”
He took Jim’s hand in his own, held it between them; palm up as if he were going to read Jim’s future. The pad of his thumb slid across the pulse that skittered erratically at his wrist; Jim jerked in a shallow breath. He remained silent as he stared down in wonder at the sheer size of Spock’s hands. “When we first made physical contact, my shields had been momentarily lowered by -” the momentary silence was almost embarrassed, “my distraction over you.”
A flush of pleasure bloomed across Jim’s chest at the admittance. Kirk didn’t know where this was going, but by the studious candour of Spock’s voice, it was important.
“Due to our instant compatibility, my mind immediately sought yours out in those three-point-two seconds our hands touched. Your mind, in turn, recognised mine and replied.”
Spock was no longer holding Jim’s hand, but sliding his fingertips along the length of Jim’s own in an action that was simultaneously soothing, and sensual, and entirely distracting. Kirk shook his head as if to clear it.
“Replied? With what?” For once Jim was uncertain he wanted the answer to his own question.
“You.” Spock replied simply, dark eyes cradling Jim with warmth. “All of you.” Spock must have clued in on the fact that Jim had no idea how to respond to that, and continued on. “I received several jumbled emotions and disjointed memories in that short time, Jim. It was not my intention for such a thing to occur; but had you the equal psychic capabilities that I do, then you too would have received many of my memories in the transfer.”
Jim grasped carefully for comprehension. “So you basically downloaded my personal life like some fucking computer?”
“I am sorry for it.” Spock sounded genuine; and if he was hurt by the severity of Jim’s words, he did not show it.
“Me too,” Jim replied bitterly; pulling his hand away from Spock. He couldn’t help but wonder what the Vulcan saw in him. And if he’d seen inside Jim as he so claimed, why was he still here? Why did he not turn away at the fountain hours ago, and save them the pain?
Jim turned away from Spock, and slid off his jacket to toss it haphazardly upon his cluttered desk. Expression sober, he stared at the opposite wall.
Dammit, he had to ask. Questions had always gotten him in trouble, but apparently Jim was a masochist. “So if you saw inside my head and all, why are you still here? You know the kind of person I am.”
“The kind of person you are?” Spock’s voice was suddenly right at Jim’s ear; breath hot and sweet and arid upon his cheek. Jim refused to turn and meet Spock’s eyes, and cursed himself as a coward.
“What -you gonna make me spell it out?” Jim’s voice cracked, much to his disgust. How did it come to this? How had this become so complicated? Then again, when had James Kirk’s life ever been simple? “A guy like me doesn’t work well in relationships. I don’t -”
Jim ground out a noise of frustration, whirled around and found himself wrapped in Spock’s unyielding arms. Jim glared up angrily, though the emotion in his voice bellied any true aggression. “I don’t do commitment well. In fact, I don’t even know if it exists. Never seen it happen, probably never will.”
Spock raised a brow slowly. One hand snuck beneath Jim’s shirt once more, fingertips caressing the length of his spine in long, slow drags. Jim let out a shaky breath as a shiver shimmied down his back.
“I accept this is the way you feel.” Spock replied reasonably. “But I am disinclined to agree with your emotionally corrupted opinion.”
“Gee, that’s surprising.” Jim begrudgingly gave into his needs, and rested his head upon Spock’s shoulder; eyes shut as he revelled in the feel of Spock’s hands igniting his skin inch by inch. Jim’s own hands found themselves idly resting upon Spock’s hips; thumbs stroking the impossibly soft skin of Spock’s torso.
“Not at all,” Spock disagreed; unaware of, or refusing to fall for Jim’s sarcasm. “I have felt nothing as strong as the emotions gleaned from your mind, Jim.” Spock’s voice was like a caress, even and gentle.
He nudged Jim’s chin up with his thumb and forefinger, and placed what should have been a chaste kiss upon Jim’s jaw. Instead it shot fire straight to his centre. “I felt anger.”
The tip of Spock’s impossibly hot tongue traced the shell of Jim’s ear. Jim groaned, and desperately attempted to concentrate on Spock’s words. “I felt sorrow, loss.”
Jim turned his head in an attempt to meet Spock’s lips; his hands now fiercely gripping Spock’s hips. The Vulcan evaded the clumsy move with grace, and leaned forward slightly to graze his teeth along Jim’s neck. Jim’s breath caught in his throat. “And I felt hope.” Spock murmured finally. “I am positive I have never experienced that emotion until I felt it in you, Jim.”
“Spock, I...” What could Jim even say to that? If there was hope within him, he sure didn’t feel it.
“You ask me why I am still here.” Spock gently walked the bewildered Jim backwards, until his calves bumped the edge of his bed. Jim was too enveloped - in Spock’s voice, the fluidity of his movements, the emotion that roiled unheeded in his eyes - to stop himself from being pushed back onto the bed.
“Your mind intrigues me,” Spock murmured; kneeling to pull off Jim’s boots. Jim was positive he’d never had foreplay talk this intense, nor this stimulating.
Well, there was a first time for everything.
Spock had heeled off his shoes, and came to kneel above Jim’s quietly heaving body. Jim stared up, wide-eyed and intent on Spock’s face.
“Your face, your eyes, your body captivates me.”
Jim reared up, his lips parted to meet Spock’s. Spock merely leaned back and took the opportunity to tug Jim’s shirt off; an action Jim was more than willing to oblige. “Spock, for the love of God -”
“And your katra,” The Vulcan word slid from Spock’s lips like honey, heady and intoxicating, “Your heart, your soul...” Spock situated himself atop Kirk, his long thigh wedged between Kirk’s legs. Spock’s eyes held Jim’s without blinking. “Is the most fascinating thing I have ever come across in my lifetime. To ignore the most basic pull your heart and mind have on me would be,” Spock quirked a brow in a shrug, “highly illogical.”
Jim was now certain he’d never been more aroused by a heart-felt conversation in his life. Spock took his breath away. Made him ache in ways Jim hadn’t imagined were possible. And dammit, made him hope just a little.
“Very logical, Professor Spock.” Jim breathed, fingertips trailing down Spock’s abdomen. A coy smile lit his face for the first time as Spock sucked in a breath, his stomach shivering in response. “Now, are you going to kiss me, or what?”
Jim didn’t wait for an answer as he pulled Spock to him in a single searing kiss. The time for conversation was over.
***
Pale sunlight filtered through the venetian blinds covering the small window, and pooled warmly across Jim’s face. He murmured unintelligibly under his breath and rolled onto his stomach.
One hand jutted out from beneath the twisted covers, and slapped down on his bedside table in a blind, groping search. A ripped silver condom wrapper crunched between his fingers, and was discarded to the floor. His fingertips finally felt the smooth, familiar square of his phone.
Jim turned to his to lay his cheek on the mattress. He squinted one eye blearily and held the screen just inches from his face; his sleep-numbed fingers clumsily pressed the tiny buttons.
Jim had known not to expect Spock in his bed this morning, unfortunately. Though it was Saturday, and it would’ve been nice to stay in and snuggle - in a way that Kirk had never considered in his life - Spock was still a teacher at the Academy. That, and Jim still had a roommate who he hadn’t been sure was going to stumble into the room at some god-awful time of early morning.
For now, Jim had no problem keeping what they had quiet. What they had. Him and Spock.
Together. The reality of his situation had hardly sunk in for Jim. He wasn’t sure if it ever would.
There was one text from Spock. Jim propped himself up on his elbows, and opened the message quickly.
What are your thoughts on the subject of forever?
Jim blinked the sleep from his eyes, and his heart lurched in his chest.
Oh God, the card. Spock must have seen in it the accidental transfer. Must have experienced Jim’s emotions surrounding it - disbelief, anger, abandonment, resignation, and admittedly, hope.
Jim swallowed hard, staring at that sentence for what seemed like hours.
Oh, fuck it.
I’m open to suggestions.