fic: When We Were Young
Title: When We Were Young
Ship:Ashayam S/U background Sulu/Chekov
Author: witblogi
Rating: PG
Words: 6363
Warnings: THIS IS A HIGH SCHOOL AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek at all :(
“I think my sister has a crush on you.” She throws herself down onto the bed jostling his arm with her knee and upsetting his book. He looks up at her with annoyance.
“You are not allowed into my bedroom.” He states as she leans back on her elbows, and gives him a dismissing look.
“Spock. C’mon. We’re best friends, besides your mom knows I’m up here, I think she’s just glad you get human interaction at all.” She pokes him in the ribs with her shoed foot and he has a minor heart attack realizing her dirty chucks are on his bedding. He grabs her foot and tugs off the shoe, throwing it to the ground before repeating the process with the other. She flops back and stares up at the ceiling while he turns back to his book trying to figure out where he’d been before her disturbance.
“You mentioned your sister. Which sister?”
“Tanya.” Nyota rolls her eyes, Tanya is only younger than them by a year and a half, she has joined them in high school this past year and has become increasingly clingy, “She keeps asking all about you. It’s sort of disgusting.” She pulls a pained face and he blinks lazily.
“Disgusting that someone could be attracted to me?” He muses half-heartedly flipping the page.
“What? No. Please I wouldn’t think that. It’s gross because it’s Tanya. I mean ew what if you like went out with her, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything, and you’d probably get all love sick and then want to talk about her all the time.” She pops back up onto her elbows and glares at him. He leans his book against his chest and raises an eyebrow at her.
“You are basing this hypothetical on what evidence?”
“Average guy behavior. It’s your own fault too, you haven’t deemed anyone good enough to date you so I have no previous comparisons and have to make things up.” She punches him in the thigh but it’s not hard enough to warrant a rubbing or even more than just turning his book back up to his face.
“Ah, imagination. I am not interested in Tanya, your worries are unfounded.”
“You’re not interested in anyone, what are you going to do at prom huh? Go stag? Stay home and watch Star Wars again?” She leans her cheek against his shin and rests a hand on his knee. He doesn’t respond, he hasn’t thought about prom, nor does he feel the gravitational pull of importance that seems to hang around it for the rest of his peers.
Nyota is quiet for a moment and he is comfortable enough with the weight of her head on his leg he almost forgets she is there.
“Sulu asked me you know.” She says quietly. He blinks but doesn’t respond and continues to read. Or at least he allows her to think he is reading, in actuality the words have stopped any further progress in his novel and he does not quite know why. Something has seized within him some unknown dread surging to life in the back of his mind.
She is quiet again, tracing the crinkly seam of his jeans with one finger back and forth over his knee.
“Maybe I’ll go with him,” she says it barely louder than a whisper but he hears it as clearly as if she had shouted. Her hands stills and then strikes, squeezing on either side of his thigh just above his knee so he jerks and drops his book.
She laughs, her voice lilting musically and darts off his bed, scooping up her shoes.
“ So just watch out for Tanya okay?” She is dashing out of his room before he has a chance to respond and he feels oddly ill at ease with her for the first time in years.
--
Spock and Nyota have been best friends since first grade. They both moved to San Fransisco at about the same time, just a few doors down from each other. At first they were more opposite than anyone could imagine, with her large smiles and loud voice and his quiet solemn demeanor. He had no siblings -at least none that he knew about until much later- and she had four sisters.
But, it was Nyota who was the same age as Spock, and who had to walk to school with him, who had to hold his hand when they crossed the street because he wouldn’t do it otherwise. It was Spock who told her it was more fun watching ants carry impossibly heavy objects instead of frying them with her magnifying glass.
Also, Spock had a dog and as Nyota’s father was allergic and they couldn’t have one, she was always coming over to play with I-Chaya…and consequentially Spock.
--
Things have not resolved themselves like they usually do by the time he makes it to school the next day. He finds himself alone at his locker when usually she hangs around to wait for him, commenting on his T-shirts and making noise in general. He hasn’t noticed how quiet things are without her around before.
But then he hears her laugh and turns towards its source finding her down the hall, leaning on the locker beside Sulu’s. Spock pauses in reaching for his calculus text watching them…watching her.
“Girl troubles?” Kirk delights in making him jump, grinning widely while Spock blinks and pulls his text out before closing his locker. He doesn’t respond.
“It’s okay El Spocko you can tell me all about it. I have experience with these things, ladies affections.” He leans against the locker bank and bats his eyelashes sympathetically. Spock fights not to roll his eyes.
“The only ladies affections you know anything about are only relevant in the backseat of a car.” McCoy strides up to them, his bag slung over one shoulder, “And he knows better than to take girl advice from you,”
“You wound me Bones.”
“I do not need advice, nor have troubles.” Spock tucks his book into his bag and slings both the straps over his shoulders, looking pointedly at McCoy’s lazy grip on his bag, sure to cause the seams stress as well as grant him posture problems.
“You sure?” Kirk looks down the hall again but neither Nyota nor Sulu are to be found, “Uhura looked mighty cozy with Sulu over there,” Spock frowns marginally and begins to head to his first class. Kirk and McCoy trail after him.
“Nyota is well within her rights to associate with whomever she chooses.” Kirk snorts and takes a few steps ahead so he can turn around and walk backwards down the hall in front of him.
“You’re still doing it huh?” He exchanges a look with McCoy. Spock gives him a sharp look for his purposely vague question.
“I do not know what you are referring to.”
“ …Alright I have to get to Physics but tell me how Egypt was when you get back.” Kirk grins and waves and ducks into his classroom without taking a moment to explain his cryptic message at all.
“I am not traveling to Africa…”
“Denial Spock. De Nile.” McCoy huffs in disbelief and branches off to English leaving Spock solitary and befuddled in his pursuit of Calculus.
“Hey! Hey Spock!” He turns already knowing who it is but watching as Nyota hurries over to him, “Sorry about earlier, my leadership meeting ran over time and when I got to your locker you were finished already.” She grinned widely punching him in the arm lightly, “Are we still on for third period? I’m going to fail my midterm if you don’t go over conics with me again.” She laughs nervously. He knows she isn’t going to fail, not even close, but he lets her nervous exaggeration fill him with something…appreciation maybe.
When he nods she quirks her head at him but smiles anyway and grips his arm for a moment.
“ Great, okay I have to run but I’ll see you in the cafeteria.” And then she’s dashing down the hall, and darting off to her next class just like she has always done and always will do.
He surmises the awkward tension from before, and the circumstances earlier were merely his own imagination fighting to explain something that wasn’t there. Everything had a rational explanation if you looked hard enough.
--
“Your name is weird.”
They are eight, lying in the shaded grass under the cherry tree in Spock’s back yard. I-Chaya pants nearby, his shaggy coat keeping him too warm in the heat of the late summer.
“Your name isn’t common either.” He turns, looking at her profile upside down. The top of his head touches her shoulder and the top of her head touches his. She scrunches her nose and blows at a dandelion puff.
“Well yeah, but my name is Swahili. It means Star. What does Spock mean?” She turns and they face each other for a moment, before he rolls his head back up to look at the clouds through the leaves of the tree.
“It…it is a family name. All the men have names that start with S and have five letters. My father’s name is Sarek.” The wind blows softly over them and Nyota shifts, flicking the stem of the dandelion away.
“Why didn’t they name you Shawn then?”
--
By the time third period rolls around Spock has forgotten entirely about any sort of tension that existed between he and Nyota. He arrives to the cafeteria only to be immediately confronted with Pavel Chekov cursing the nearest vending machine.
He’s younger than them, moved up a few grades and still the top of the class but his parents were reluctant to move him any further. He was small and thin, liable to get beaten on, with braces and curly hair, and apparently a surly streak encouraged by money eating machines.
Spock takes a moment to assess the situation; it appears the Frito Hoops have gotten stuck again. With a well-placed smack to the side of the machine the mechanism turns the last few notches and the bag finally falls to the bottom of the machine.
Chekov halts mid mutter and gazes at him a bit breathlessly.
“Oh. It’s you.” His English is accented, but understandable and Spock gave up long ago on trying to follow him around and correct every sentence. He turns away and faces the long tables that fill the cafeteria, looking for Nyota.
He pauses, catching sight of her at the far end, she’s sitting on a table -even though there are plenty of vacant chairs around- and laughing at something her companion is saying. It’s not unusual, Nyota has many friends, but when Spock recognizes Sulu’s features he pauses and watches.
“I do not know what this is,” Chekov has trailed after him, fishing around in his crinkly bag with two fingers. He’s not referring to the fried corn product he’s ingesting, “Hikaru has never skipped biology before.” He looks up and his gaze darkens even further as he pops some hoops in his mouth and licks his fingers.
Spock chooses to say nothing, instead placing his bag down and taking up a seat at his own table. He has other homework to complete and Nyota has always socialized more liberally than he does. He is confident she will come over eventually to study.
“You do not think it is weird - Uhura and Sulu?” Chekov slips into the seat across from him and Spock glances up at him for a moment.
“Sulu and Nyota have always been acquaintances.” He eyes the way Chekov pulls one of his long thin legs up resting is foot on the chair seat as if it could possibly be more comfortable to sit folded that way.
“This,” Chekov waves over his shoulder where Spock sees Nyota laughing again punching Sulu in the arm, “Is not acquaintance. Is not even friendly. This is ‘dating’,” he mutters.
Spock pulls out his binder and his text and a few pens, he has an essay on Napoleon at Waterloo to write, “You are upset because your closest friend has taken a recent interest in something that does not concern you.”
Chekov frowns and shakes his bag to get more hoops dislodged from their tangle at the bottom.
“He is not my closest friend. Scotty is my closest friend.”
Spock blinks and looks over to see Nyota finally heading over towards him; Sulu is nowhere to be found.
“Why then, are you upset with him?” he asks Chekov only to be met with confusion.
“ I do not know. I am not …I guess….”
“Hey. Oh, hi Pavel are you going to be joining us? Conics, fun, fun!” Nyota stands at the end of the table and dances her math textbook trying to entice Chekov’s interest. The boy merely snorts and crumples his empty snack bag.
“No. I was doing conics when I was ten years old and have no wish to revisit them in such simplicity now.” He stands and takes his leave with a small nod given to Spock. Nyota frowns and slides into his now empty seat.
“What’s up with him?”
“He believes Mr. Sulu and yourself are romantically involved.”
“Like he has a crush on me or something?” She pulls a face, “He’s cute and everything but not really my type-”
“Nyota.”
“Oh. Right.” She settles in with her calculator and her textbook and entangles her feet with his as she furrows her brows and gets to work. He watches her for a moment, how she twirls her pencil and huffs in annoyance when she reverses her negatives, he smiles just slightly and turns back to his own work. She is still the Nyota he has always known.
--
They are thirteen and sitting on her back porch. It’s summer again, but cold and foggy, he doesn’t like being outside but it’s her birthday and she didn’t want to spend another moment inside with her family. So they snuck out here to talk.
But they haven’t been doing much talking. Things have been awkward between them for the past few months, the past year really, since they started being segregated more and more in junior high. Promised by adults that they would soon be battling raging hormones and the terrors of acne.
They’ve both slowly been changing, puberty running its course. He’s moody, his hair is shaggy and in his eyes because he won’t let his mother cut it. She’s taller than him again growing too fast and is, of course, moody as well.
But just then in the damp chill of her backyard, with her parents and sisters arguing inside their moods seem to synch up and they smile at each other. It’s that smile, the way it’s ever so slightly crooked on one side, how her hair escapes her ponytail in wispy ringlets around her face, and how her neck curves into her shoulder that makes him realize she’s a girl. He’s never really thought about it before. She’s always been Nyota, his best friend and nothing more, and now…now she’s a girl as well. He swallows and breaks their eye contact and she sighs.
“You’re my best friend, Spock.” And then she does something she has never done before and slides over to his end of the stairs, presses right up beside him and pulls her arms around his waist.
It’s as simple as that, a hug bestowed on a birthday. But he succumbs to putting his arm around her and she rests her head on his shoulder and they sit and look at the fog.
--
Sulu joins them on their walk home. Ordinarily Spock would not consider this a hindrance but today he can feel his patience wearing thin. It’s not …Sulu in particular, he’s a fairly interesting individual with a good work ethic, neat habits and a perfectly rounded volley of extra curricular activities. Spock even collaborated with him once on a biology experiment involving the harvesting of strawberries they had genetically spliced themselves to taste like grapes. Of course, the experiment failed and they had strawberries that were fatter and redder and more strawberry tasting than ever but that they had worked together amicably was the point.
Today’s particular annoyance was just that Sulu kept trying to add Spock into the conversation he was having with Nyota. He did not know anything about the world of celebrities and their abundance of children and he knew for a fact neither did Nyota, but she just could not seem to stop laughing. She laughed at everything that came out of Sulu’s mouth whether it was truly funny or not.
So his problem wasn’t Sulu, it wasn’t the company or the personality it was how Nyota was behaving. She wasn’t a giggler, she didn’t let things like promenade pressure her, and she most certainly didn’t let a boy carry her books for her.
Of course Sulu isn’t carrying her books for her, but it seemed like something he might offer to do; and something that coming from him she might accept.
They arrive at their houses before Spock is really finished with his thoughts so he just waves absently and hurries up his own walkway. He kicks off his shoes and toes off his socks leaving them where they fall for now. He is hungry and heads for the kitchen immediately.
He’s got a spoonful of peanut butter in his mouth and is looking for the celery in the refrigerator when she storms in on him.
“Okay. What is wrong with you today?” she snaps standing, fuming in the doorway to the kitchen. He draws the spoon out of his mouth and lets the fridge door snap closed as he turns to face her.
“I am perfectly fine,”
“Well then explain to me why you haven’t said more than four words to anyone today? And why, just now, did you not only not talk to Hikaru, but you wouldn’t even look at him. Seriously Spock, explain it.” She crosses her arms over her chest and waits, her lips pressed together in anger. She looks like her mother, but Spock knows that is not a wise topic to bring up, especially when she is already aggravated.
He doesn’t know what to say, what can make her stop accusing him of whatever she thinks he has done wrong. He begins to think but she huffs in annoyance.
“You aren’t going to answer me are you?” She looks at him carefully, “Fine. I’m not going to force it out of you. When you’re ready you know where I am.” She trudges back to the front door and slams it behind her with finality. It’s not an ultimatum but it feels like one. Tell her why he’s being acting out of character or lose her.
He swallows on the peanut butter taste lingering in his mouth, it has suddenly gone sour and his appetite has vanished. He drops his spoon and heads upstairs.
--
They’re fifteen and he doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to be near his mother’s clucking and smoothing his hair. He doesn’t want to sit in his father’s suffocating gaze. He doesn’t want to be anything at all.
So he’s tucked himself away, finding a place to sit in the large ravine over run with long grass, trees, and frogs that splash obnoxiously in the pond below.
“Hey.” It’s soft but still startles him and he dashes his wrist against his cheeks in an effort to dry them but she’s already seen. She doesn’t comment however, just sits beside him and places a hand on his knee.
“Your mom’s worried.” She offers quietly and he nods clenching his teeth in an effort to keep it together. He looks down into his hands, fingers the red leather and smoothes his thumb across the shiny tag. His eyes begin to blur again. He swallows.
“He really liked it here didn’t he?” Her voice is light unobtrusive, “Used to catch the frogs and get all muddy.” Her laugh is a hollow sound.
“He was a really good dog, Spock.” She whispers. His eyes begin to overflow but she’s there with her sleeve pulled up over her hand, drying his tears before they even make it to the apple of his cheek.
“He had a long happy life with you.” She whispers again, her other arm drawing around his shoulders, “But it’s okay to miss him.” She continues to catch every tear and he leans into her touch just this once.
--
The weeks that draw out after the issuing of the pseudo-ultimatum feel like a count down. Counting to what Spock doesn’t know. The rest of the student body is getting riled up about prom, he is mostly trying to devise a way for Nyota to forgive him for something he hasn’t done.
She doesn’t talk to him more than cursory greetings and the occasional formal question about a homework assignment. Gone is she from his house, and his walk home and hanging around his locker.
He isn’t alone however. Sensing or seeing, Spock doesn’t know but somehow Kirk has decided now is the time to step up from casual friend to being Spock’s constant best friend. It’s a completely different relationship than what he has …or had with Nyota.
Kirk (“Jim, Spock, my name is Jim.”) was bright and fast and everywhere all at once. He never wanted help with his homework. He never really did his homework. Mostly he just hung around while Spock worked and kicked up the occasional philosophical questions about how they get the caramel in the Caramilk bars or how prepared are they really for a global zombie infestation.
Along with… Jim came McCoy. It was some kind of packaged deal that Spock hadn’t looked up the catch for. Leonard McCoy was…well he was an exceptional lab partner in chemistry. But other than that his most notable features were foul language and a grumpy demeanor that has hung around him since Jocelyn Darnell broke up with him last summer for a college man.
Spock finds himself sitting with both of them, McCoy and Jim arguing over something to do with a paper that was fed to a dog, one lunch hour just a mere four days before prom. The posters are tacked up all over the halls begging the student body to have a safe night and not drive when they drink -illegally- and advertising limos and tuxedo rentals. It’s all rather bizarre that people who regularly come to classes in their pajamas are looking forward to a night of being uncomfortable and embarrassed in formal wear.
“Hey. Can we join you?” SuluandUhura. Their names perpetually joined by ‘and’ now that they’re officially dating. Spock tries not to stare at where their hands are clasped together, surely a sweaty and unsanitary gesture.
“Sure. The more the merrier.” Jim says through tuna salad and waves them to sit. Things are tense for just a heartbeat after everyone has shuffled into their places and then Chekov arrives in a flurry of papers and barely comprehendible English.
Spock only gets as far as understanding something about a language proficiency test when Scotty arrives and only makes Chekov more agitated. They’re bickering about scores and placements and verb conjugation when another voice interrupts them.
“You’re going to do fine Pavel. I told you-” Sulu pipes up from the opposite end of the table but his words die in his mouth as Chekov sneers at him before gathering his papers and stalks back out of the cafeteria.
“What in blue blazes was that?” McCoy is not taking well to all of these interruptions to his lunch and looks pointedly at Sulu for explanation.
“I- I don’t know he’s just…he won’t talk to me.” Sulu frowns and Spock watches Nyota comfort him, her hand squeezing his shoulder and rubbing his back.
Something turns over sickly in the pit of his stomach and he is no longer hungry.
“Well, whatever’s going on between the two of you isn’t helping much!” Scotty harrumphs, taking the seat beside Spock, “If he doesn’t calm down and get his act together he is going to fail.” He opens his lunch bag and shakes out several sandwiches. Spock stands pausing when all eyes turn to him. Nyota catches his gaze and he looks away.
“I…will go see if I can straighten his notes.” He gathers his things and leaves without looking back.
He finds Chekov half sitting in his locker.
“I do not want to talk.” He says darkly and Spock merely raises an eyebrow at him.
“I only wish to provide you with grammatical advice should you accept it.” He crouches down and begins to organize the mess of hand written notes that have been dumped in a pile on the floor. For a moment Chekov says nothing and Spock efficiently straightens the bunch before handing it back. He’s about to stand and gather his own books for the next period when Chekov wriggles out of his locker.
“I accept.”
--
They’re sixteen. Christine Chapel has the most obvious crush on Spock anyone has ever seen. Even Spock knows about it. Nyota is strangely quiet about the subject. Her initial amusement about it faded as soon as Spock accepted Christine’s proposal to study for an up coming history test together.
Studying turns out to be a bust. Christine is interested in everything other than the civil war, and anything involving Spock’s life. He supposes that she’s pretty, her blonde hair looks healthy and soft and her smile is even and welcoming, but he knows that they have literally nothing in common and he is not the person she thinks he is.
He leaves early and goes home only to find Nyota lounging around on his bed, reading his well-worn copy of Origin of Species. She doesn’t ask about why he’s back early and he doesn’t ask why she’s in his room. She just scoots over for him to lay head to toe beside her and they take turns reading Darwin for the rest of the night.
--
Spock looks forward to the rationality, and methodical nature of chemistry after lunch. Even as he slides into his seat with McCoy already there and giving him a dark look, he knows he will find recluse in the infinite details of performing in a laboratory.
But he is not kidding himself into believing this will be a peaceful class. It is clear that as they measure their solutions and time the heating and agitation of their chemicals he will be receiving another of McCoy’s infamous rants. Unlucky for Spock this one is actually aimed at him.
“Jim says you have to do it on your own, you need time, it’s all about you but it’s not, Spock. Not everything is about you. I am here to give you a swift kick in the ass for the way you’ve been behaving.” His words are filled with feeling, aggression and annoyance that has been slowly building inside him. He’s practically spitting but his hands are steady as he measures distilled water into their graduated cylinders.
“Nyota is a sweet girl. You know that, I know that, Sulu knows that. But the difference between you and Sulu is that he had the balls to do something about it. You had all the time in the world, every second with her to make your move-” Spock has almost stopped listening. McCoy has already made his point and will just reiterate for the next forty minutes with extra name calling and cursing.
However, his point is notable. Is Spock on the same side of the coin as Sulu? Does he have romantically inclined feelings for Nyota as well? He slows in his ministrations as he contemplates the idea and things begin to make sense…it…it’s so obvious. It comes like a physical blow, the realization of what he’s really been doing and feeling for all these years.
“Hmmph, Think you’ve finally got it, genius?” McCoy raps on Spock’s goggles with his knuckles, “You’ve blown your chances with her because of all your pussy footing and now Sulu - who is a nice guy by all means- has her instead of you.” And just like that the stunning realization, the clarity of his mind is wiped away and replaced with dread.
It sits heavily in his gut, the idea that he will never get his chance, the chance he had had in his grasp for so long only to dismiss it. He is an idiot and doesn’t know how he manages the rest of the class without doing something else equally as intellectually diminutive.
--
He is eighteen and sitting in the kitchen alone. It’s not raining, but it would be fitting if it were, the downpour matching his mood. He is alone because he chose to be alone, because he has brought this upon himself and must suffer for it.
“Cookie?” Not alone then. His mother offers a plate. They’re peanut butter, his favorite but he can’t stomach anything at the moment and shakes his head sullenly. She sighs and sets down the plate before him, running a hand through his hair as she rounds the table to take a seat.
“You don’t want to talk about it.” She nods, already four steps ahead in the conversation, “I don’t care. You’ve been in a mood for the longest time and I think I know what it’s about.” It’s doubtful but he looks up into her concerned brown eyes, his eyes-
“You’re depressed about Nyota. She’s dating that Sulu isn’t she? And she hasn’t been coming around here much. At first I thought maybe you’d had a fight-” Spock wonders idly if he’s always the last to receive news about his own social life, “But it’s more serious than that isn’t it?”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks away and picks at his placemat. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do about this nervous gnawing in his stomach that says he has screwed up big time.
“Well. One thing’s for certain you’ve got a lot to do and not very much time to do it in.”
He frowns at her and she just smiles back at him.
“It’s not too late you know. You can win her over to your side, if I’m right and I think I am she’ll definitely be willing to listen to you.”
“She is romantically entangled with Sulu. It would not be…honourable to ‘steal’ her out from under him, if that is what you are implying.” He raises his eyebrow at her and she just waves her hand at him in dismissal.
“Pshhhaw, stealing schmealing. It’s not stealing when she wants to be stolen.”
He looks at her for a long moment letting the weight and meaning of her words slowly sink into his mind. When he quirks his head and asks what she has in mind she smiles and offers the plate again.
This time he eats four.
--
The suit is entirely uncomfortable just as he’d predicted, but luckily it isn’t a rental. Instead it’s borrowed from his father who didn’t ask many questions but provided advice on appropriate tie colour and knot tying. It fits strangely well though, and for the first time he feels like could be called a man appropriately. He leaves before his mother can exclaim any further and demand to take out the camera. He’s already having second thoughts about the embarrassing potential this whole plan encourages. He swallows and doesn’t know if he can go through with it but McCoy is his ride and won’t let him “Pussy Out” and practically frog marches him to the door.
The gym is entirely decked out in a galactic space theme. Glittering stars hang from the ceiling, lasers sway in the corners and the walls are covered over with planets and nebulas. It’s the most horrid tacky thing Spock has ever seen. McCoy agrees with a snort at his side.
The student body currently dancing to the outrageously loud and pulsing music is however luckily not in colour-coded uniforms. Instead each girl has a particularly tailored dress and each boy a completely rote fill-in-the-blank suit or tux.
Things are in full swing already and it’s everything Spock ever imagined. He still can’t understand why anyone would voluntarily go…besides himself of course and he has a mission to undertake.
McCoy vanishes somewhere between the punch table and the DJ booth, but Spock doesn’t mind, he’s too busy scanning the ludicrously gyrating crowd for a glimpse of- and then he sees her, hand in hand with Sulu doing that move in which the dancers cross their arms over their heads and shoulders, let go and slide back to catch each others hands. Spock has never been coordinated enough to do it without making a tangle of his and his partners’ limbs. He has always loathed mandatory physical education dance class.
She’s clearly enjoying herself however, laughing and dancing, appearing more like a girl than he’s ever paid particular attention to before. Her dress is teal and made of what has to be thousands of shimmering little circles all layered together like scales. She looks beautiful and happy and his heart gives a lurch- he can’t interrupt her- not now. He takes a step back, and she turns her head catching sight of him and freezing in her dance causing Sulu to stumble into her.
He sees her mouth move but can’t hear her, it looks like she’s calling his name, brows knit together in confusion. Spock takes another step back, he’s already causing damage… he’s hurting her just by being there. It was all a stupid plan and he turns away, ready to walk home alone.
“Spock?” He can hear her calling him, but ignores it and continues to try and fight through the crowd to the exit, “Spock!” She’s gaining on him, it’s a bit embarrassing considering the state of her footwear compared to his.
She finally catches him by the shoulder, pulling him around to face her. Up close she is even more beautiful, but he isn’t sure if it’s something special she has done tonight or if he’s just never truly noticed her before.
“What are you doing here? You hate the prom.” She yells slightly over the music. It’s the most she’s said to him in a month. He looks around; no one appears to be paying them any attention.
“I- Ny-” Raising his voice feels so unnatural and he looks around for an exit, or at the very least an acoustically null point in the gym where they can talk. It’s such an important conversation he doesn’t want to have it half yelled in front of all their peers… She seems to understand his dilemma soon enough and grasps his hand, pulling him towards and previously unseen door that has been propped open to allow the cool night air into the stifling gymnasium.
There are a few real stars visible to wink down at them as they walk out onto the grassy field. The music is still booming in the background, but they can hear each other now. There are others scattered around the field, sitting and talking in their formalwear on the grass, even some couples engaged in inappropriate amorous activities but none of them are close enough to over hear them.
He still has her hand when they come to a stop and she turns to face him.
“What…are you doing here?” She frowns when she tries to take her hand back and he doesn’t let her, instead clasping it tighter in his sweaty palm. His heart is beating too hard, he’s never been this nervous about anything before. He swallows on his dry mouth and looks down at her confused face.
“You said I knew where you were when I was ready to tell you what was wrong.” He blurts out inelegantly. She frowns at him for only a moment before seemingly remembering and relaxing.
“You want to talk now. At prom.” She’s fighting off a smile. And he swallows again.
“Yes. It has come to my attention that urgency is required.”
“What? Required? Spock what are you talking about?” She’s laughing. It’s been so long since he’s made her laugh and it already feels euphoric.
“What was wrong, what is wrong is I do not want you to go to prom with Sulu. I do not want you to date Sulu. I wish to be the only one you are romantically involved with.” He’s squeezing her hand tightly now, and it’s sure to be painful but he can’t stop, his heart is going to beat out of his chest and he can’t breath until she says something.
“Spock…” she smiles and shakes her head, “It took you long enough.” She gives him a half-hearted punch in the arm with the hand he is not trying to crush and laughs, “ I’ve only been in love with you since the sixth grade.”
“You didn’t tell me.” It comes out in a whoosh, he’s breathless and shaking and doesn’t know why. She looks at him like he’s gone crazy.
“You’re my best friend! If I’d told you it would have screwed everything up!” She laughs again and claps her hand to her face, “You’ve got terrible timing…Hikaru..,” she sighs and turns to the gym just in time to see Sulu being hauled outside by none other than Chekov.
They can almost hear their voices over the music they’re arguing so fiercely. Nyota frowns and takes a step towards them but is halted as suddenly as Chekov is now kissing Sulu. Spock blinks at them and Nyota makes a noise in the back of her throat.
“That…is new.” She cocks her head, “But I don’t think Hikaru will mind…this very much.” She raises the hand he has yet to let go of and grins at him. Spock looks down at her and smiles carefully back.
Ship:Ashayam S/U background Sulu/Chekov
Author: witblogi
Rating: PG
Words: 6363
Warnings: THIS IS A HIGH SCHOOL AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek at all :(
“I think my sister has a crush on you.” She throws herself down onto the bed jostling his arm with her knee and upsetting his book. He looks up at her with annoyance.
“You are not allowed into my bedroom.” He states as she leans back on her elbows, and gives him a dismissing look.
“Spock. C’mon. We’re best friends, besides your mom knows I’m up here, I think she’s just glad you get human interaction at all.” She pokes him in the ribs with her shoed foot and he has a minor heart attack realizing her dirty chucks are on his bedding. He grabs her foot and tugs off the shoe, throwing it to the ground before repeating the process with the other. She flops back and stares up at the ceiling while he turns back to his book trying to figure out where he’d been before her disturbance.
“You mentioned your sister. Which sister?”
“Tanya.” Nyota rolls her eyes, Tanya is only younger than them by a year and a half, she has joined them in high school this past year and has become increasingly clingy, “She keeps asking all about you. It’s sort of disgusting.” She pulls a pained face and he blinks lazily.
“Disgusting that someone could be attracted to me?” He muses half-heartedly flipping the page.
“What? No. Please I wouldn’t think that. It’s gross because it’s Tanya. I mean ew what if you like went out with her, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything, and you’d probably get all love sick and then want to talk about her all the time.” She pops back up onto her elbows and glares at him. He leans his book against his chest and raises an eyebrow at her.
“You are basing this hypothetical on what evidence?”
“Average guy behavior. It’s your own fault too, you haven’t deemed anyone good enough to date you so I have no previous comparisons and have to make things up.” She punches him in the thigh but it’s not hard enough to warrant a rubbing or even more than just turning his book back up to his face.
“Ah, imagination. I am not interested in Tanya, your worries are unfounded.”
“You’re not interested in anyone, what are you going to do at prom huh? Go stag? Stay home and watch Star Wars again?” She leans her cheek against his shin and rests a hand on his knee. He doesn’t respond, he hasn’t thought about prom, nor does he feel the gravitational pull of importance that seems to hang around it for the rest of his peers.
Nyota is quiet for a moment and he is comfortable enough with the weight of her head on his leg he almost forgets she is there.
“Sulu asked me you know.” She says quietly. He blinks but doesn’t respond and continues to read. Or at least he allows her to think he is reading, in actuality the words have stopped any further progress in his novel and he does not quite know why. Something has seized within him some unknown dread surging to life in the back of his mind.
She is quiet again, tracing the crinkly seam of his jeans with one finger back and forth over his knee.
“Maybe I’ll go with him,” she says it barely louder than a whisper but he hears it as clearly as if she had shouted. Her hands stills and then strikes, squeezing on either side of his thigh just above his knee so he jerks and drops his book.
She laughs, her voice lilting musically and darts off his bed, scooping up her shoes.
“ So just watch out for Tanya okay?” She is dashing out of his room before he has a chance to respond and he feels oddly ill at ease with her for the first time in years.
--
Spock and Nyota have been best friends since first grade. They both moved to San Fransisco at about the same time, just a few doors down from each other. At first they were more opposite than anyone could imagine, with her large smiles and loud voice and his quiet solemn demeanor. He had no siblings -at least none that he knew about until much later- and she had four sisters.
But, it was Nyota who was the same age as Spock, and who had to walk to school with him, who had to hold his hand when they crossed the street because he wouldn’t do it otherwise. It was Spock who told her it was more fun watching ants carry impossibly heavy objects instead of frying them with her magnifying glass.
Also, Spock had a dog and as Nyota’s father was allergic and they couldn’t have one, she was always coming over to play with I-Chaya…and consequentially Spock.
--
Things have not resolved themselves like they usually do by the time he makes it to school the next day. He finds himself alone at his locker when usually she hangs around to wait for him, commenting on his T-shirts and making noise in general. He hasn’t noticed how quiet things are without her around before.
But then he hears her laugh and turns towards its source finding her down the hall, leaning on the locker beside Sulu’s. Spock pauses in reaching for his calculus text watching them…watching her.
“Girl troubles?” Kirk delights in making him jump, grinning widely while Spock blinks and pulls his text out before closing his locker. He doesn’t respond.
“It’s okay El Spocko you can tell me all about it. I have experience with these things, ladies affections.” He leans against the locker bank and bats his eyelashes sympathetically. Spock fights not to roll his eyes.
“The only ladies affections you know anything about are only relevant in the backseat of a car.” McCoy strides up to them, his bag slung over one shoulder, “And he knows better than to take girl advice from you,”
“You wound me Bones.”
“I do not need advice, nor have troubles.” Spock tucks his book into his bag and slings both the straps over his shoulders, looking pointedly at McCoy’s lazy grip on his bag, sure to cause the seams stress as well as grant him posture problems.
“You sure?” Kirk looks down the hall again but neither Nyota nor Sulu are to be found, “Uhura looked mighty cozy with Sulu over there,” Spock frowns marginally and begins to head to his first class. Kirk and McCoy trail after him.
“Nyota is well within her rights to associate with whomever she chooses.” Kirk snorts and takes a few steps ahead so he can turn around and walk backwards down the hall in front of him.
“You’re still doing it huh?” He exchanges a look with McCoy. Spock gives him a sharp look for his purposely vague question.
“I do not know what you are referring to.”
“ …Alright I have to get to Physics but tell me how Egypt was when you get back.” Kirk grins and waves and ducks into his classroom without taking a moment to explain his cryptic message at all.
“I am not traveling to Africa…”
“Denial Spock. De Nile.” McCoy huffs in disbelief and branches off to English leaving Spock solitary and befuddled in his pursuit of Calculus.
“Hey! Hey Spock!” He turns already knowing who it is but watching as Nyota hurries over to him, “Sorry about earlier, my leadership meeting ran over time and when I got to your locker you were finished already.” She grinned widely punching him in the arm lightly, “Are we still on for third period? I’m going to fail my midterm if you don’t go over conics with me again.” She laughs nervously. He knows she isn’t going to fail, not even close, but he lets her nervous exaggeration fill him with something…appreciation maybe.
When he nods she quirks her head at him but smiles anyway and grips his arm for a moment.
“ Great, okay I have to run but I’ll see you in the cafeteria.” And then she’s dashing down the hall, and darting off to her next class just like she has always done and always will do.
He surmises the awkward tension from before, and the circumstances earlier were merely his own imagination fighting to explain something that wasn’t there. Everything had a rational explanation if you looked hard enough.
--
“Your name is weird.”
They are eight, lying in the shaded grass under the cherry tree in Spock’s back yard. I-Chaya pants nearby, his shaggy coat keeping him too warm in the heat of the late summer.
“Your name isn’t common either.” He turns, looking at her profile upside down. The top of his head touches her shoulder and the top of her head touches his. She scrunches her nose and blows at a dandelion puff.
“Well yeah, but my name is Swahili. It means Star. What does Spock mean?” She turns and they face each other for a moment, before he rolls his head back up to look at the clouds through the leaves of the tree.
“It…it is a family name. All the men have names that start with S and have five letters. My father’s name is Sarek.” The wind blows softly over them and Nyota shifts, flicking the stem of the dandelion away.
“Why didn’t they name you Shawn then?”
--
By the time third period rolls around Spock has forgotten entirely about any sort of tension that existed between he and Nyota. He arrives to the cafeteria only to be immediately confronted with Pavel Chekov cursing the nearest vending machine.
He’s younger than them, moved up a few grades and still the top of the class but his parents were reluctant to move him any further. He was small and thin, liable to get beaten on, with braces and curly hair, and apparently a surly streak encouraged by money eating machines.
Spock takes a moment to assess the situation; it appears the Frito Hoops have gotten stuck again. With a well-placed smack to the side of the machine the mechanism turns the last few notches and the bag finally falls to the bottom of the machine.
Chekov halts mid mutter and gazes at him a bit breathlessly.
“Oh. It’s you.” His English is accented, but understandable and Spock gave up long ago on trying to follow him around and correct every sentence. He turns away and faces the long tables that fill the cafeteria, looking for Nyota.
He pauses, catching sight of her at the far end, she’s sitting on a table -even though there are plenty of vacant chairs around- and laughing at something her companion is saying. It’s not unusual, Nyota has many friends, but when Spock recognizes Sulu’s features he pauses and watches.
“I do not know what this is,” Chekov has trailed after him, fishing around in his crinkly bag with two fingers. He’s not referring to the fried corn product he’s ingesting, “Hikaru has never skipped biology before.” He looks up and his gaze darkens even further as he pops some hoops in his mouth and licks his fingers.
Spock chooses to say nothing, instead placing his bag down and taking up a seat at his own table. He has other homework to complete and Nyota has always socialized more liberally than he does. He is confident she will come over eventually to study.
“You do not think it is weird - Uhura and Sulu?” Chekov slips into the seat across from him and Spock glances up at him for a moment.
“Sulu and Nyota have always been acquaintances.” He eyes the way Chekov pulls one of his long thin legs up resting is foot on the chair seat as if it could possibly be more comfortable to sit folded that way.
“This,” Chekov waves over his shoulder where Spock sees Nyota laughing again punching Sulu in the arm, “Is not acquaintance. Is not even friendly. This is ‘dating’,” he mutters.
Spock pulls out his binder and his text and a few pens, he has an essay on Napoleon at Waterloo to write, “You are upset because your closest friend has taken a recent interest in something that does not concern you.”
Chekov frowns and shakes his bag to get more hoops dislodged from their tangle at the bottom.
“He is not my closest friend. Scotty is my closest friend.”
Spock blinks and looks over to see Nyota finally heading over towards him; Sulu is nowhere to be found.
“Why then, are you upset with him?” he asks Chekov only to be met with confusion.
“ I do not know. I am not …I guess….”
“Hey. Oh, hi Pavel are you going to be joining us? Conics, fun, fun!” Nyota stands at the end of the table and dances her math textbook trying to entice Chekov’s interest. The boy merely snorts and crumples his empty snack bag.
“No. I was doing conics when I was ten years old and have no wish to revisit them in such simplicity now.” He stands and takes his leave with a small nod given to Spock. Nyota frowns and slides into his now empty seat.
“What’s up with him?”
“He believes Mr. Sulu and yourself are romantically involved.”
“Like he has a crush on me or something?” She pulls a face, “He’s cute and everything but not really my type-”
“Nyota.”
“Oh. Right.” She settles in with her calculator and her textbook and entangles her feet with his as she furrows her brows and gets to work. He watches her for a moment, how she twirls her pencil and huffs in annoyance when she reverses her negatives, he smiles just slightly and turns back to his own work. She is still the Nyota he has always known.
--
They are thirteen and sitting on her back porch. It’s summer again, but cold and foggy, he doesn’t like being outside but it’s her birthday and she didn’t want to spend another moment inside with her family. So they snuck out here to talk.
But they haven’t been doing much talking. Things have been awkward between them for the past few months, the past year really, since they started being segregated more and more in junior high. Promised by adults that they would soon be battling raging hormones and the terrors of acne.
They’ve both slowly been changing, puberty running its course. He’s moody, his hair is shaggy and in his eyes because he won’t let his mother cut it. She’s taller than him again growing too fast and is, of course, moody as well.
But just then in the damp chill of her backyard, with her parents and sisters arguing inside their moods seem to synch up and they smile at each other. It’s that smile, the way it’s ever so slightly crooked on one side, how her hair escapes her ponytail in wispy ringlets around her face, and how her neck curves into her shoulder that makes him realize she’s a girl. He’s never really thought about it before. She’s always been Nyota, his best friend and nothing more, and now…now she’s a girl as well. He swallows and breaks their eye contact and she sighs.
“You’re my best friend, Spock.” And then she does something she has never done before and slides over to his end of the stairs, presses right up beside him and pulls her arms around his waist.
It’s as simple as that, a hug bestowed on a birthday. But he succumbs to putting his arm around her and she rests her head on his shoulder and they sit and look at the fog.
--
Sulu joins them on their walk home. Ordinarily Spock would not consider this a hindrance but today he can feel his patience wearing thin. It’s not …Sulu in particular, he’s a fairly interesting individual with a good work ethic, neat habits and a perfectly rounded volley of extra curricular activities. Spock even collaborated with him once on a biology experiment involving the harvesting of strawberries they had genetically spliced themselves to taste like grapes. Of course, the experiment failed and they had strawberries that were fatter and redder and more strawberry tasting than ever but that they had worked together amicably was the point.
Today’s particular annoyance was just that Sulu kept trying to add Spock into the conversation he was having with Nyota. He did not know anything about the world of celebrities and their abundance of children and he knew for a fact neither did Nyota, but she just could not seem to stop laughing. She laughed at everything that came out of Sulu’s mouth whether it was truly funny or not.
So his problem wasn’t Sulu, it wasn’t the company or the personality it was how Nyota was behaving. She wasn’t a giggler, she didn’t let things like promenade pressure her, and she most certainly didn’t let a boy carry her books for her.
Of course Sulu isn’t carrying her books for her, but it seemed like something he might offer to do; and something that coming from him she might accept.
They arrive at their houses before Spock is really finished with his thoughts so he just waves absently and hurries up his own walkway. He kicks off his shoes and toes off his socks leaving them where they fall for now. He is hungry and heads for the kitchen immediately.
He’s got a spoonful of peanut butter in his mouth and is looking for the celery in the refrigerator when she storms in on him.
“Okay. What is wrong with you today?” she snaps standing, fuming in the doorway to the kitchen. He draws the spoon out of his mouth and lets the fridge door snap closed as he turns to face her.
“I am perfectly fine,”
“Well then explain to me why you haven’t said more than four words to anyone today? And why, just now, did you not only not talk to Hikaru, but you wouldn’t even look at him. Seriously Spock, explain it.” She crosses her arms over her chest and waits, her lips pressed together in anger. She looks like her mother, but Spock knows that is not a wise topic to bring up, especially when she is already aggravated.
He doesn’t know what to say, what can make her stop accusing him of whatever she thinks he has done wrong. He begins to think but she huffs in annoyance.
“You aren’t going to answer me are you?” She looks at him carefully, “Fine. I’m not going to force it out of you. When you’re ready you know where I am.” She trudges back to the front door and slams it behind her with finality. It’s not an ultimatum but it feels like one. Tell her why he’s being acting out of character or lose her.
He swallows on the peanut butter taste lingering in his mouth, it has suddenly gone sour and his appetite has vanished. He drops his spoon and heads upstairs.
--
They’re fifteen and he doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to be near his mother’s clucking and smoothing his hair. He doesn’t want to sit in his father’s suffocating gaze. He doesn’t want to be anything at all.
So he’s tucked himself away, finding a place to sit in the large ravine over run with long grass, trees, and frogs that splash obnoxiously in the pond below.
“Hey.” It’s soft but still startles him and he dashes his wrist against his cheeks in an effort to dry them but she’s already seen. She doesn’t comment however, just sits beside him and places a hand on his knee.
“Your mom’s worried.” She offers quietly and he nods clenching his teeth in an effort to keep it together. He looks down into his hands, fingers the red leather and smoothes his thumb across the shiny tag. His eyes begin to blur again. He swallows.
“He really liked it here didn’t he?” Her voice is light unobtrusive, “Used to catch the frogs and get all muddy.” Her laugh is a hollow sound.
“He was a really good dog, Spock.” She whispers. His eyes begin to overflow but she’s there with her sleeve pulled up over her hand, drying his tears before they even make it to the apple of his cheek.
“He had a long happy life with you.” She whispers again, her other arm drawing around his shoulders, “But it’s okay to miss him.” She continues to catch every tear and he leans into her touch just this once.
--
The weeks that draw out after the issuing of the pseudo-ultimatum feel like a count down. Counting to what Spock doesn’t know. The rest of the student body is getting riled up about prom, he is mostly trying to devise a way for Nyota to forgive him for something he hasn’t done.
She doesn’t talk to him more than cursory greetings and the occasional formal question about a homework assignment. Gone is she from his house, and his walk home and hanging around his locker.
He isn’t alone however. Sensing or seeing, Spock doesn’t know but somehow Kirk has decided now is the time to step up from casual friend to being Spock’s constant best friend. It’s a completely different relationship than what he has …or had with Nyota.
Kirk (“Jim, Spock, my name is Jim.”) was bright and fast and everywhere all at once. He never wanted help with his homework. He never really did his homework. Mostly he just hung around while Spock worked and kicked up the occasional philosophical questions about how they get the caramel in the Caramilk bars or how prepared are they really for a global zombie infestation.
Along with… Jim came McCoy. It was some kind of packaged deal that Spock hadn’t looked up the catch for. Leonard McCoy was…well he was an exceptional lab partner in chemistry. But other than that his most notable features were foul language and a grumpy demeanor that has hung around him since Jocelyn Darnell broke up with him last summer for a college man.
Spock finds himself sitting with both of them, McCoy and Jim arguing over something to do with a paper that was fed to a dog, one lunch hour just a mere four days before prom. The posters are tacked up all over the halls begging the student body to have a safe night and not drive when they drink -illegally- and advertising limos and tuxedo rentals. It’s all rather bizarre that people who regularly come to classes in their pajamas are looking forward to a night of being uncomfortable and embarrassed in formal wear.
“Hey. Can we join you?” SuluandUhura. Their names perpetually joined by ‘and’ now that they’re officially dating. Spock tries not to stare at where their hands are clasped together, surely a sweaty and unsanitary gesture.
“Sure. The more the merrier.” Jim says through tuna salad and waves them to sit. Things are tense for just a heartbeat after everyone has shuffled into their places and then Chekov arrives in a flurry of papers and barely comprehendible English.
Spock only gets as far as understanding something about a language proficiency test when Scotty arrives and only makes Chekov more agitated. They’re bickering about scores and placements and verb conjugation when another voice interrupts them.
“You’re going to do fine Pavel. I told you-” Sulu pipes up from the opposite end of the table but his words die in his mouth as Chekov sneers at him before gathering his papers and stalks back out of the cafeteria.
“What in blue blazes was that?” McCoy is not taking well to all of these interruptions to his lunch and looks pointedly at Sulu for explanation.
“I- I don’t know he’s just…he won’t talk to me.” Sulu frowns and Spock watches Nyota comfort him, her hand squeezing his shoulder and rubbing his back.
Something turns over sickly in the pit of his stomach and he is no longer hungry.
“Well, whatever’s going on between the two of you isn’t helping much!” Scotty harrumphs, taking the seat beside Spock, “If he doesn’t calm down and get his act together he is going to fail.” He opens his lunch bag and shakes out several sandwiches. Spock stands pausing when all eyes turn to him. Nyota catches his gaze and he looks away.
“I…will go see if I can straighten his notes.” He gathers his things and leaves without looking back.
He finds Chekov half sitting in his locker.
“I do not want to talk.” He says darkly and Spock merely raises an eyebrow at him.
“I only wish to provide you with grammatical advice should you accept it.” He crouches down and begins to organize the mess of hand written notes that have been dumped in a pile on the floor. For a moment Chekov says nothing and Spock efficiently straightens the bunch before handing it back. He’s about to stand and gather his own books for the next period when Chekov wriggles out of his locker.
“I accept.”
--
They’re sixteen. Christine Chapel has the most obvious crush on Spock anyone has ever seen. Even Spock knows about it. Nyota is strangely quiet about the subject. Her initial amusement about it faded as soon as Spock accepted Christine’s proposal to study for an up coming history test together.
Studying turns out to be a bust. Christine is interested in everything other than the civil war, and anything involving Spock’s life. He supposes that she’s pretty, her blonde hair looks healthy and soft and her smile is even and welcoming, but he knows that they have literally nothing in common and he is not the person she thinks he is.
He leaves early and goes home only to find Nyota lounging around on his bed, reading his well-worn copy of Origin of Species. She doesn’t ask about why he’s back early and he doesn’t ask why she’s in his room. She just scoots over for him to lay head to toe beside her and they take turns reading Darwin for the rest of the night.
--
Spock looks forward to the rationality, and methodical nature of chemistry after lunch. Even as he slides into his seat with McCoy already there and giving him a dark look, he knows he will find recluse in the infinite details of performing in a laboratory.
But he is not kidding himself into believing this will be a peaceful class. It is clear that as they measure their solutions and time the heating and agitation of their chemicals he will be receiving another of McCoy’s infamous rants. Unlucky for Spock this one is actually aimed at him.
“Jim says you have to do it on your own, you need time, it’s all about you but it’s not, Spock. Not everything is about you. I am here to give you a swift kick in the ass for the way you’ve been behaving.” His words are filled with feeling, aggression and annoyance that has been slowly building inside him. He’s practically spitting but his hands are steady as he measures distilled water into their graduated cylinders.
“Nyota is a sweet girl. You know that, I know that, Sulu knows that. But the difference between you and Sulu is that he had the balls to do something about it. You had all the time in the world, every second with her to make your move-” Spock has almost stopped listening. McCoy has already made his point and will just reiterate for the next forty minutes with extra name calling and cursing.
However, his point is notable. Is Spock on the same side of the coin as Sulu? Does he have romantically inclined feelings for Nyota as well? He slows in his ministrations as he contemplates the idea and things begin to make sense…it…it’s so obvious. It comes like a physical blow, the realization of what he’s really been doing and feeling for all these years.
“Hmmph, Think you’ve finally got it, genius?” McCoy raps on Spock’s goggles with his knuckles, “You’ve blown your chances with her because of all your pussy footing and now Sulu - who is a nice guy by all means- has her instead of you.” And just like that the stunning realization, the clarity of his mind is wiped away and replaced with dread.
It sits heavily in his gut, the idea that he will never get his chance, the chance he had had in his grasp for so long only to dismiss it. He is an idiot and doesn’t know how he manages the rest of the class without doing something else equally as intellectually diminutive.
--
He is eighteen and sitting in the kitchen alone. It’s not raining, but it would be fitting if it were, the downpour matching his mood. He is alone because he chose to be alone, because he has brought this upon himself and must suffer for it.
“Cookie?” Not alone then. His mother offers a plate. They’re peanut butter, his favorite but he can’t stomach anything at the moment and shakes his head sullenly. She sighs and sets down the plate before him, running a hand through his hair as she rounds the table to take a seat.
“You don’t want to talk about it.” She nods, already four steps ahead in the conversation, “I don’t care. You’ve been in a mood for the longest time and I think I know what it’s about.” It’s doubtful but he looks up into her concerned brown eyes, his eyes-
“You’re depressed about Nyota. She’s dating that Sulu isn’t she? And she hasn’t been coming around here much. At first I thought maybe you’d had a fight-” Spock wonders idly if he’s always the last to receive news about his own social life, “But it’s more serious than that isn’t it?”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks away and picks at his placemat. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do about this nervous gnawing in his stomach that says he has screwed up big time.
“Well. One thing’s for certain you’ve got a lot to do and not very much time to do it in.”
He frowns at her and she just smiles back at him.
“It’s not too late you know. You can win her over to your side, if I’m right and I think I am she’ll definitely be willing to listen to you.”
“She is romantically entangled with Sulu. It would not be…honourable to ‘steal’ her out from under him, if that is what you are implying.” He raises his eyebrow at her and she just waves her hand at him in dismissal.
“Pshhhaw, stealing schmealing. It’s not stealing when she wants to be stolen.”
He looks at her for a long moment letting the weight and meaning of her words slowly sink into his mind. When he quirks his head and asks what she has in mind she smiles and offers the plate again.
This time he eats four.
--
The suit is entirely uncomfortable just as he’d predicted, but luckily it isn’t a rental. Instead it’s borrowed from his father who didn’t ask many questions but provided advice on appropriate tie colour and knot tying. It fits strangely well though, and for the first time he feels like could be called a man appropriately. He leaves before his mother can exclaim any further and demand to take out the camera. He’s already having second thoughts about the embarrassing potential this whole plan encourages. He swallows and doesn’t know if he can go through with it but McCoy is his ride and won’t let him “Pussy Out” and practically frog marches him to the door.
The gym is entirely decked out in a galactic space theme. Glittering stars hang from the ceiling, lasers sway in the corners and the walls are covered over with planets and nebulas. It’s the most horrid tacky thing Spock has ever seen. McCoy agrees with a snort at his side.
The student body currently dancing to the outrageously loud and pulsing music is however luckily not in colour-coded uniforms. Instead each girl has a particularly tailored dress and each boy a completely rote fill-in-the-blank suit or tux.
Things are in full swing already and it’s everything Spock ever imagined. He still can’t understand why anyone would voluntarily go…besides himself of course and he has a mission to undertake.
McCoy vanishes somewhere between the punch table and the DJ booth, but Spock doesn’t mind, he’s too busy scanning the ludicrously gyrating crowd for a glimpse of- and then he sees her, hand in hand with Sulu doing that move in which the dancers cross their arms over their heads and shoulders, let go and slide back to catch each others hands. Spock has never been coordinated enough to do it without making a tangle of his and his partners’ limbs. He has always loathed mandatory physical education dance class.
She’s clearly enjoying herself however, laughing and dancing, appearing more like a girl than he’s ever paid particular attention to before. Her dress is teal and made of what has to be thousands of shimmering little circles all layered together like scales. She looks beautiful and happy and his heart gives a lurch- he can’t interrupt her- not now. He takes a step back, and she turns her head catching sight of him and freezing in her dance causing Sulu to stumble into her.
He sees her mouth move but can’t hear her, it looks like she’s calling his name, brows knit together in confusion. Spock takes another step back, he’s already causing damage… he’s hurting her just by being there. It was all a stupid plan and he turns away, ready to walk home alone.
“Spock?” He can hear her calling him, but ignores it and continues to try and fight through the crowd to the exit, “Spock!” She’s gaining on him, it’s a bit embarrassing considering the state of her footwear compared to his.
She finally catches him by the shoulder, pulling him around to face her. Up close she is even more beautiful, but he isn’t sure if it’s something special she has done tonight or if he’s just never truly noticed her before.
“What are you doing here? You hate the prom.” She yells slightly over the music. It’s the most she’s said to him in a month. He looks around; no one appears to be paying them any attention.
“I- Ny-” Raising his voice feels so unnatural and he looks around for an exit, or at the very least an acoustically null point in the gym where they can talk. It’s such an important conversation he doesn’t want to have it half yelled in front of all their peers… She seems to understand his dilemma soon enough and grasps his hand, pulling him towards and previously unseen door that has been propped open to allow the cool night air into the stifling gymnasium.
There are a few real stars visible to wink down at them as they walk out onto the grassy field. The music is still booming in the background, but they can hear each other now. There are others scattered around the field, sitting and talking in their formalwear on the grass, even some couples engaged in inappropriate amorous activities but none of them are close enough to over hear them.
He still has her hand when they come to a stop and she turns to face him.
“What…are you doing here?” She frowns when she tries to take her hand back and he doesn’t let her, instead clasping it tighter in his sweaty palm. His heart is beating too hard, he’s never been this nervous about anything before. He swallows on his dry mouth and looks down at her confused face.
“You said I knew where you were when I was ready to tell you what was wrong.” He blurts out inelegantly. She frowns at him for only a moment before seemingly remembering and relaxing.
“You want to talk now. At prom.” She’s fighting off a smile. And he swallows again.
“Yes. It has come to my attention that urgency is required.”
“What? Required? Spock what are you talking about?” She’s laughing. It’s been so long since he’s made her laugh and it already feels euphoric.
“What was wrong, what is wrong is I do not want you to go to prom with Sulu. I do not want you to date Sulu. I wish to be the only one you are romantically involved with.” He’s squeezing her hand tightly now, and it’s sure to be painful but he can’t stop, his heart is going to beat out of his chest and he can’t breath until she says something.
“Spock…” she smiles and shakes her head, “It took you long enough.” She gives him a half-hearted punch in the arm with the hand he is not trying to crush and laughs, “ I’ve only been in love with you since the sixth grade.”
“You didn’t tell me.” It comes out in a whoosh, he’s breathless and shaking and doesn’t know why. She looks at him like he’s gone crazy.
“You’re my best friend! If I’d told you it would have screwed everything up!” She laughs again and claps her hand to her face, “You’ve got terrible timing…Hikaru..,” she sighs and turns to the gym just in time to see Sulu being hauled outside by none other than Chekov.
They can almost hear their voices over the music they’re arguing so fiercely. Nyota frowns and takes a step towards them but is halted as suddenly as Chekov is now kissing Sulu. Spock blinks at them and Nyota makes a noise in the back of her throat.
“That…is new.” She cocks her head, “But I don’t think Hikaru will mind…this very much.” She raises the hand he has yet to let go of and grins at him. Spock looks down at her and smiles carefully back.