Maybe it was the way he looked, or quite possibly the way he talked, but Jim could never exactly place why he was bullied. He didn't like calling it 'bullying', either, because he could conjure up far more interesting words for it, nevertheless people didn't like him. That much was obvious.
James Tyberius Kirk, age eighteen, was just relieved that this was his last year of high school, and he could book it out of Iowa as fast as he could the moment he got his diploma. Really, the country state was getting on his nerves, and he knew his mother would be far better off without him there; Always a reminder of his Father's death. That was years ago, it was now late in September, and Jim carefully walked away from his locker, his senses on full alert in case he should be targeted. He hadn't gotten into a big fight, yet, thought it was only a matter of time before his fellow classmates began the torment. It had become somewhat of an annual schedule.
"Hey, elf boy!" someone called from down the hall. Jim turned around, bracing himself, but was shocked when he found the insult was directed to someone else. Huh.
"I'm talking to you, hobgoblin!" the voice belonged to some giant bastard- Jim didn't keep tabs on their names- and the sasquatch grabbed hold of what looked to be a pretty skinny guy, whose black hair was cut neatly around his head. Hesistantly, Jim stepped towards them.
"Why ain't 'cha getting mad, boy? You're afriad of me, so why don't you call your mommy?" Bigfoot (as Jim had graciously dubbed him) picked up the victim by his collar, getting very close to his face. Then, he threw the guy at the lockers, making a cringe worthy clash.
"Hey," Jim snapped, "Why don't you leave him alone, man? He didn't do anything to you." He jogged until he was at the skinny guy's side, revealing pretty damn pointed ears, pale skin, and a practically emotionless expression. The only exception on the boy's neutral looking face were his eyes, which were regarding Jim with a quiet confusion.
Jim couldn't take more notice in those eyes when he got shoved into the lockers, hitting his head rather violently off of one of them. "Why you defending him, Jimmy? Tryin' to be a hero like your pop?" Bigfoot sneered.
"Shut the fuck up, or I'll let Bones know that you've missed eight physicals." Jim said, standing. That did it, Bigfoot paled, shot a final glare at the other boy, then left in a hurry.
"Fascinating," said the skinny boy, "It would seem the good doctor holds the element of fear over most of these imbecilic cretins."
"Just use it as a threat next time, 'kay?" Jim chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. He checked his hand for blood, relieved when he didn't see any. But it sure hurt like a bitch.
"Might I inquire as to why you defended me?" those brown eyes were back on him, and Jim gave a small shrug. "I get a few good ass beatings, too." he said, "Doesn't mean anyone else deserves it."
"I see," said the boy, "It would polite of me if I thanked you."
Jim smiled, "No thanks necessary, just try to avoid those bastards in the future."
The boy raised an eyebrow, "Why would I not avoid them?"
"Good question," Jim laughed, lifted a hand to symbolise that he was leaving, and turned. He found himself looking back over his shoulder after a couple of steps. "What's your name, then?"
"It is Spock," he said, looking slightly taken aback. Ah. His name was literally begging for torment, Jim gave him a empathetic look.
"Spock, I'm Jim." informed the blonde, and that was that. Jim walked off with a light grin on his face, not really eager to get to class.
Spock watched him go, puzzlement growing. "Jim," he said, quietly, knowing he would not be heard. "Thank you." And off he walked to advanced English class.
...
"Godammit, I know you've got a bump on your head, Jim!" Leonard McCoy crossed his arms, standing abruptly from behind his desk. "Take the damn medice, it'll help it heal."
Jim pouted, but the school doctor (for Bones detested the term 'nurse') was his best friend, and had his better interests in mind. Reluctantly, Jim swallowed the tylenol while Bones gave a satisfied grunt. "I came here to get my phone back, not be treated!" Jim whined, then walked over to the cot that McCoy often referred to as 'Jim's bed', and searched for the mobile. It was tossed into his hands shortly afterwards, by a very amused Bones.
"Okay, spill it, kid." the doctor said, leaning back so that he was nearly sitting on his desk. "Why do you have that damned bruise, anyway?"
"I was helping a fellow nerd out," Jim said, hugging his phone. Even though he never got messages from anyone, except an occasionally drunken Bones, Jim loved that little thing too much. It wasn't even a fancy model, or anything, it was just a phone. Still, it was his, so it mattered to Jim.
"A fellow nerd? Who the blazes would that be?" Bones asked, scooping up his clipboard.
"His name is Spock," Jim sighed, "Whoever named him must've had a very twisted sense of humour."
"You mean pointy-ears?" Bones scoffed, "He was doomed from the start of the term when he exchanged here."
"Funny, I knew I hadn't seen him before." said Jim, feeling a slight pang of sympathy towards the guy. And Jim never felt sympathy. "He's probably an honour student."
"He is," Bones informed him, "But he was pulled out of his last school for an unknown reason, the staff room was buzzing about it."
"Teachers," Jim chuckled, shaking his head. He left Bones with a pat on the shoulder and a wave, then made his way to the school exit. It had become a habit of visiting the sick bay at the end of classes, and Jim got thrown in there so often, he had bothered to make friends with the doctor. Which was lucky, since Bones was a great man. Except when he was drunk, that had left unfortunate scars in Jim's mind. Mostly involving ex-wives and estranged daughters.
He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost tripped over the curb and landed flat on his face. He was stopped by a strong grip on his arm, and was hoisted back on his feet. "It would seem you are endeavoring to get yourself harmed." It was Spock, who let go of Jim immediately when their eyes met.
"Thanks," Jim said, realising he had to tilt his head back to see Spock's face. It had been hard to tell his height when he had been keeled over from being shoved into a wall, after all. "Guess you don't owe me, anymore."
"I do not think saving you from a clumsy misfooting would-" Spock began but Jim's laugh cut him off. "I was just teasing you, Spock, it's all good." Jim said, grinning up at him.
Spock raised an eyebrow, "Most illogical."
"I am the walking definition of illogical, my good man." Jim said, as he began walking towards the path home. He was a little startled when Spock fell into step next to him, regarding him with a light look of confusion. "You live around here?" Jim asked, curiously.
"Yes, my current residence is approximately nine yards away." Spock said, inclining his head.
"Oh, well I live right there." Jim pointed to a small speck on hill, "Just at that farm."
Spock's gaze followed his arm, and then he lifted his own to point to an even smaller speck a few miles away from the farm. "That is where I reside. It appears we are neighbors."
Jim whistled, "We've got at least an acre apart from eachother. Though, around here, I guess that is considered neighbors!" He laughed, and gave the grass a little kick. Spock gave him an acknowledging look, then they lasped into silence. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. That might have just been Jim, though. "So, uh, I hear you've transferred here?"
"Yes, I originally lived in New York." Spock said, "I transferred here after an unfortunate occurance within the family, accepting a scholarship offer."
"Scholarship?" Jim echoed.
"Yes," Spock nodded, "I am what you would call 'gifted' in Science skills. I am not a genius nor child prodigy, however, I am merely a student who knows all the answers."
For some strange reason, Jim burst into laughter. "You," he said between breaths, "You are great! I mean, really, you're pretty damn funny!" He wasn't sure what else to say, so he kept laughing.
"Does your laughter indicate disbelief in my story?" Spock asked, raising his brow again.
"No, I just think you've officially passed as a good guy, Spock." Jim smiled, recovering fom his laughter. "You're certaintly different from most people I know."
"I am not most people," Spock pointed out, the tiniest trace of humour in his eyes. Jim looked up at him and shook his head, "No you are not."
They walked in silence once more, Jim looking content and Spock looking neutral-content-or-something-else. By the time they reached the bottom of the hill where Jim's house sat, they had said very little to eachother. "Well," Jim said, "See ya tomorrow, I guess."
Spock looked a little relieved when Jim said that. He contemplated him with a somewhat soft expression, "Until tomorrow, Jim." Spock said this, then turned and marched off.
Watching him go, Jim felt a little flutter in his chest. Must've been the tylenol.
...
The following morning passed in a blur, Jim's mother had been out late, so he had eaten breakfast alone, again. He walked to school, still tired from the previous night. He was always a restless one, and Jim couldn't possibly sleep when his mother wasn't home, when he didn't know if she was safe. So, he'd stayed up until he was positive she was back. Bones ranted on that being a bad habit, but Jim couldn't help it. He needed to know if she was okay.
It was lucky for Jim he was pretty smart, not that he'd ever show it, furthermore he managed to sleep through his European History class with ease. Sleeping through Math, however, wasn't going to be easy. His teacher, Mr. Pike, was unusually strict with his lessons in trigonometry. Strict, meaning he threw rulers at anyone who tried to sleep during his class.
Jim was sharply awoken by plastic colliding with his forehead within the first thirty minutes, so he gave up and paid attention.
Leaving class, he caught a glimpse of a pair of familiar pointy ears. "Spock!" he said, nudging past a few students. At the sound of his name, Spock abruptly stiffened. His shoulders sagged a little when he saw his adresser, though. "Hello, Jim." he said, greeting him with a small nod. It was a stoic meeting, but Jim was getting the impression this guy didn't smile a whole lot, so he let it slide. "Avoid any ass whoopings?" Jim said, thinking of no better conversation starters.
"I have sucessfully prevented being put through physical assault, for now." Spock stated, he was giving off a slightly bemused tone in his voice.
"Well, that's good." Jim chuckled, "Wanna eat lunch with me?"
"It would not disturb you?" Spock had a look that said 'I am surprised at your offer, but I will try to conceal it'.
Jim grinned at him, "Dude, I eat alone every single day. I would really like the company."
"If it is not a botheration," Spock said slowly. Jim gave him a look, and Spock just raised his brows. "Very well, I shall join you."
"Great," Jim smiled, as they headed towards the lockers. "I'd avoid the cafeteria, though, it's suicide for our kind."
"Indeed," Spock nodded, "It would seem that the football team have a talent for throwing more than what they are trained for."
"I'm guessing you've gotten hit by flying pizza, then?" Jim had to ask, stopping at his locker.
"No," Spock said, "I was nearly rendered unconsious by a couple of hamburgers."
"Holy shit," Jim shook his head, grabbing his lunchbag. Spock's lips gave a minimal twitch, but the sight was gone before Jim could really take notice. After retrieving Spock's own lunch, they sat themselves in the small hallway that lead to the janitor's office, each sitting cross legged, leaning on opposite wall from the other.
"Were you picked on back at your old school, too?" Jim wondered, unwrapping his sandwich.
"Yes," Spock said, "I assume you've been harassed from early age, as well?"
"Yup, sucks to be a total dweeb." Jim mumbled.
"I would disregard your statement, but I'm afriad I must agree. You are, infact, a dweeb." Spock said, reaching for his salad.
Jim almost choked on his sandwich, his laughter and turkey apparently didn't mix. "Oh my god, you'll kill me!" Jim guffawed, forcing himself to swallow. Spock's brows knitted, forming a small crease in between them. "That would be most regrettable." he said, lightly poking a piece of lettuce with his fork.
Jim's laughs bounced off the walls, as he awkwardly regained composure and continued eating. Spock was regarding him with a strange look, mixed with either concern or bewilderment. Jim waved dismissively, "I'm fine, I'm fine." And with that, they ate in companionable silence, only light chewing was to be heard.
"Do we have any classes together?" Jim finally asked, sitting up straighter. Spock gave a little half shrug, which was kind of surprising, and said, "I don't believe we do."
"Ah, damn. It'd be nice to actually know someone." Jim said, "I mean, I know plenty of the girls, but they hate my guts."
"You enjoy female companionship?" Spock inquired, doing his eyebrow raise.
"Through and through," Jim sighed, "I like kissing people, and I'm hated for it."
"I believe the correct term I could jest here is 'whore'." Spock said, almost looking smug with himself. Jim laughed again, not sure how long it had been since he'd laughed so many times in one day. "Stop- I said you'll kill me!" he cackled, looking at the ceiling. Spock raised his eyebrow again, but he said nothing.
"If you call me a dweeb or whore again, and I'll die." Jim sighed, "You just sound way too funny when you say stuff like that."
"Bullshit," Spock almost drawled, and Jim couldn't even make sound with his laughs anymore. Spock didn't laugh, but his eyes were postively brimming with delight; Jim decided that was close enough.
...
The final bell had rang, and Jim was pleased to finally have some freedom. His small moment of happiness was betrayed, when he found himself turning the corner towards his locker. A group of giants were slowly approaching a skinny figure, and Jim knewalmost immediately who it was.
"I assume you've prepared more insults for the day?" Spock said, knowing that they were behind his back.
"Yeah, whatcha gonna do, faggot?" one voice snarled, grabbing Spock's shoulder and spinning him around.
"I do not intend to physically harm you, and I suggest you walk away." Spock closed his eyes, trying to imagine that hand on him wasn't actually there.
"Ooh, the pwetty wittle princess thinks he can hurt us!" a mocking voice said, followed by amused laughs from it's comrades. "Like hell you can."
"He might not, but I sure as hell will!" piped up another voice. Spock was released, and he opened his eyes. Jim stood behind the tallest of the group, arms crossed and looking relatively angry. Spock shot him an inquisitive look, to which Jim replied with a one armed shrug.
"Oh, Jamie, y'all just don't know when to quit!" said an overweight member of the group, "We've beat your ass before, an' we'll do it again."
"Come at me," Jim challenged, "Cupcake."
And so, 'Cupcake' lunged with full force, slamming Jim into the nearest wall. He was kneed in the stomach, and his friends quickly ganged up on Jim to back up their leader. Punched twice in the ribs by Bigfoot, Jim threw back a ridiculously strong hit to the gut, and the boy dropped to the floor. Cupcake had recovered, grabbed Jim by his shirt collar and started punching his face with a meaty fist. Jim dodged a few, then mustered his strength into a quick knee to the crotch. Cupcake yelped, letting go of Jim and stumbling backwards.
Spock quickly reached out, then pinched the nerve in the attacker's neck, making Cupcake freeze. He then flopped to the floor, looking stone dead to the naked eye.
Jim's grin might as well have broken his face, "You couldn't have done that sooner?"
Spock looked slightly guilty, "I was a bit fascinated with watching your combat skills."
"Meh," Jim shrugged, "Nice of you to kill him, but was it really, uh, necessary...?"
"He isn't dead, Jim. He's fainted." Spock poked the unconsious jock with his foot. Jim laughed, then shot the stunned looking remainder of bullies a glare.
"Want us to ninja chop you to death?" Jim asked. They shook their heads. "Beat it."
They ran off, and Jim weakly wiped his nose. Blood, but not too much. He stared down at Cupcake's crippled form, then turned to Spock. "Why don't you use that all the time?"
"It requires a precise opening," Spock said, "I rarely have the opportunity to use it, and suspension from the school could be involved if I did. Speaking of which, I suggest we leave, otherwise we'll be pursued by a staff member."
Jim glanced around the hallways then nodded, "Seems logical."
They ran as fast as they could manage, Jim laughing and Spock going along with it.
...
"Will you just help me out, dammit?" Bones grumbled into the reciever, Jim listening intently.
"You're so swamped with paperwork you can't babysit Joanna?" he mused, "Well, I'll be damned, you never give up quality time with her. Ever."
"It sucks, I know, just help me!" Bones wailed, "You're her uncle, practically!"
"Who loves me?" Jim crowed, feeling very powerful at the moment.
Bones let out a loud snort, "I do, now babysit my fucking daughter."
"Fine, fine." Jim agreed, and the line went dead. The things he did for Bones.
Joanna was dumped on his doorstep around six o' clock, and the four year old girl did not look excited. "Daddy's avoiding me," she muttered, "Ain't he?"
"No, he's just got..." Jim searched for the right word.
"A shitload of paperwork, I know." Joanna sighed, making Jim leap in surprise at her...colourful vocabulary. Well, she was Bones' kid. He held out his hand, and Joanna reluctantly accepted. "You know how to play monopoly?" Jim asked, leading her to the kitchen table.
"Yeah, I'm pretty damn good at it!" she chirped.
"Well, you're looking at the monopoly champion!" Jim grinned down at her, watching the four year old skeptisize him. "Bullcrap!" Joanna said.
It was on like Donkey Kong.
And Jim lost. Multiple times.
"You said you were a champion," Joanna teased, looking as pleased with herself as a four year old girl could pull off. "I lied. I'm horrible." Jim mumbled, his face pressed against the wooden table in shame.
Joanna stood, walked over to him, and patted his shoulder. "I'm a little girl, not a psychiatrist."
"You're just like you dad," Jim groaned, hitting his head off the table again.
"Mom says that, too." Joanna giggled, then she tugged on Jim's sleeve. "C'mon, Uncle Kirk, I wanna watch T.V."
That was when a light knock on the door sounded. "I'll get it," Jim said, "You go turn the T.V on. Uh, if you know how..."
"I can do it," Joanna reassured him, then walked out of the kitchen. Jim stood, stretched, then proceeded out of the kitchen. He wondered if his mother forgot her keys again, but that didn't seem likely. With a small click, he opened the door.
There, wearing a woolen hat that covered his ears, was Spock. "Pardon my intrusion, but my main power circuits were demolished. I require some tools." he said, though he was his usual neutral self, Spock's eyes were slightly ashamed.
"Come on in," Jim gave a baffled offer, "I can't help you right now. Babysitting." He stepped out of the way, letting Spock shuffle past him.
"My apologies, I am able to wait." said Spock, glancing around the house. "Fascinating."
"Yeah, we've got a badass peeling wallpaper." Jim chuckled, walking towards the living room. After a beat, Spock followed suit. "You can take off your jacket and hat, if you want." Jim said, then he poked his head into the living room.
"Who's here?" Joanna asked from the couch, eyes filled with interest.
"This is my-" Jim paused for second, then decidedly said, "This is my friend, Spock."
Spock looked at him, then at Joanna, then back at Jim again.
"You're his friend?" Joanna asked, merely curious.
"Indeed I am," Spock inclined his head. Jim felt a random flutter in his chest again, and decided it was nothing. "Who are you?" Spock asked, stepping towards the couch.
"Joanna McCoy," she said, "You go to Daddy's school?"
"Correct," Spock said. He glanced back at Jim, who said, "Go ahead, sit down."
Spock sat, his gaze diverting to the television. "What program is this?" he asked, furrowing his brows.
"It's called Wipeout," Joanna said, "Basically, you watch random grown-ups fall into mud and water."
"Interesting," said Spock.
"Hilarious, actually." Jim intervened, sitting down on Joanna's other side. She nodded in agreement with him, while Spock stared blankly at the T.V.
"That guy'll win," Joanna said, pointing to one of the competitors.
"Nah, it's gonna be Blondie." Jim insisted, pointing to the female.
"You are both wrong," Spock said, "It will undoubtedly be the brunet female."
They later learned that Joanna was right. "How...?" Jim began to ask, but trailed off at Spock's raised brow. "It was a re-run, we have been cheated." Spock deduced.
"Your friend is smart," Joanna laughed, raising her hand to high-five Spock, who could only stare dumbly back. Slightly annoyed, Joanna took hold of the teenager's wrist, uncoiled his fingers and slapped his hand. "I'm four, and I know what a high-five is." she said.
Spock just looked at her as if she were completely nuts. Jim laughed, yet again, with no sound to avail.
They kept watching Wipeout, it appeared to be a running marathon, until Joanna drifted to sleep. No sooner than her first snore, Bones showed up, grumbled a thanks, then left with her in his arms.
"Okay, Spock," Jim stretched, "I'll help you with your circuit problem."
"I will need a pair of pliers," Spock said, standing. They went into the garage, found Jim's brother's old tool box, then they marched back to Spock's house.
It was smaller than Jim's, a lot smaller, with plain white walls, and very little furniture. There were, however, a lot of pictures on the fireplace mantlepiece.
"It's illogical, keeping them." Spock mumbled, "But the photographs are all I have as a reminder, therefore they rest there in sentiment."
"Reminder?" Jim repeated, following Spock downstairs.
"My mother, and the majority of my family, died at a restaurant shooting." Spock said, quietly. "It was six months, ten weeks, and four days ago."
"Oh god," Jim murmured, "That...Wow. I'm sorry."
"There is no need for you to apologise," Spock said, "You were not responsible."
"Neither are you," Jim mumbled, "My Dad's dead- traffic incident. I know how it feels, it's like absolute shit and guilt dripping down your throat."
"Quite accurate," Spock nodded. Jim laughed, in spite of the gloomy topic. He wondered if Spock took offence, but that familiar amused glint was lingering in his eyes. They trudged down to the power box (or whatever it was called) and Spock tugged it open.
After a few tweaks with a screwdriver, bright lights came and blinded Jim out of nowhere. He fell backwards, slipped, and was very close to meeting Spock's basement floor. But he was saved, by a hand behind his neck, another around his waist, and Spock's face, barely an inch from Jim's own.
"Are you alright?" those brown eyes were so close, concern flooding into them.
"Uh...huh." Jim spluttered, his heart beat seemed to have stopped for a second. Spock tugged him back upwards, letting go as quickly as he could when Jim caught his balance.
"I should have warned you, I tried turning the light on before checking the circuits." Spock said, brushing himself off. "At least it functions properly, now. Thank you for your assistance."
"No problem," Jim said, still trying to correct his breathing. "Guess I'll head home now." He turned to leave, feeling oddly flustered. Why was he feeling flustered?
"Jim," Spock called. Jim turned, raising his own eyebrow for a change, "Yeah?"
"So, we're friends now?" Spock asked, an almost hopeful expression on his face.
Jim paused, then he grinned. "Damn straight."
Spock's lips twitched into an almost smile, "That's acceptable."
"It's logical," Jim said. Then, despite what he wanted, he winked. After realising his actions, he turned on his heel and left, mortified with his eyelid.
Spock, however, raised both eyebrows.
...
Jim didn't necessarily hate the winter season, but he sure as hell didn't enjoy it. Cold meant snow, snow meant coats, mittens, and other things Jim normally would refuse wearing. So, when he learned about an apparent blast of o-zone dropping that was coming around, he figured taking his bike for one last ride wouldn't hurt.
That motorcycle was a hobby of his, just something his brother, Sam, had left behind when he moved out. Jim sort of claimed it, taught himself to drive it, and boom! He had something to do when he was bored. But motorcycles and cold weather don't agree with each other, so Jim had to lock it up for a few months. Taking it for a ride was a great idea, maybe he'd even go to the city if he was up to it. Bones noted his glee, telling Jim not to crash into something, and he was just ready to head home when he was reminded of a certain pointy-eared friend.
"Spock," Jim said, "Have you ever been on a motorcycle?"
"I have not," Spock admitted, sparing Jim a curious look. They were walking home together, one of the highlights of the schedule Jim seemed to have aqquired, and Spock was probably confused about the sudden topic.
"Well, you're riding one. Today." Jim annouced, nodding at his house. "Anyone expecting you at home?"
"I live alone," Spock informed him, but he didn't resist Jim's change of direction, and they headed uphill.
"Oh, well, more or less of a reason you should come with me!" Jim mumbled.
"I must confess, I do not serve a fondness towards vehicles of the sort." Spock said, "However, I think it would prove most interesting if I were to attempt traveling on one."
Oh, and interesting it did prove.
"Spock, you have to hold on to something, otherwise you'll fall right off." Jim laughed, sitting down on the fake-leather seat. Spock gave it a reluctant look, "That will prove to be compromising, Jim. Perhaps I shall not jaunt with you."
"Hell no, you aren't backing out, now! C'mon Spock, do it for science!" Jim pleaded, already feeling like he'd lost the argument. He'd been friends with Spock for at least three months, moreover learning that his brown-eyed companion was more of a 'look- don't touch' kind of guy. Really, riding a motorcycle with Spock seemed like a highly improbible situation.
"...I fail to see what relations this has with science, and though I will immensely regret this decision, fine." Spock sat down behind Jim, his forever calm expression hinting annoyance.
Jim grinned. He shifted the gear, "Hold on." Spock's arms awkwardly looped around his waist. Jim recovered from another random flutter attack- maybe he was sick- and kicked the engine, listening as it roared to life.
Then they were speeding. Wind hitting his face, Jim felt at home, wondering if he should shift the gear to be faster. One glance at Spock changed his opinion, and he quickly decreased speed. "I was not expecting that," Spock said, his face was nearly burried in the back Jim's shoulder. He said nothing else, but Jim could feel him shivering.
"Sorry, I'll drive slower, okay?" Jim apologised, shifting the gear back to 30 mph. It was a bit fast, but for a bike in that condition, this was hardly the fast and the furious.
Moments later, Spock recovered from his little panic attack. Jim felt his head shift from his shoulder, slightly upwards as though he were peeking out from a hiding place. Even though he had to keep his gaze ahead, Jim knew why Spock let out a slow breath of amazement. There was an advantage to living out in farmland, and that was the sky. It was the most peculiar shade of blue, painted with white streaks of clouds that lasted for miles. You could nearly see where it curved into its spherical form, disappearing behind more grassy hills.
"It's nice, huh?" Jim asked, raising his voice so he could be heard over the engine.
"That is an understatement," Spock said into his shoulder, "It is remarkable something so indigenous to human culture should prove such a rarity at certain times."
"You could just say it looks pretty," Jim chuckled, subtly shifting the speed a few miles up.
"Indeed," Spock's grip on his waist tightened, and he supposedly relaxed into Jim. It made his stomach feel lighter, Jim decidely blamed this on the bike. Although, Spock was very warm, his forehead brushed against the back of Jim's neck every so often, and that made up for it.
"Woo hoo~!" Jim howled, his cry echoing across the empty fields.
Spock raised a brow, "You need not have done that, what purpose did it serve?"
"It's fun, Spock, try it." Jim assured his friend, casting a glance over his shoulder.
"This entire experience is coaxing me to believe we have very different ideas of 'fun', Jim." Spock quipped, his amused eye glint in tact.
"Just yell something random, then," Jim laughed, spinning the vehicle around so they could go back to the farm. He hadn't realised how far out he'd actually managed to drive.
"Jim is essentially an idiot!" Spock claimed, voice an octave higher than usual.
Jim promptly sped up the bike.
...
Dramatically, the chess piece was moved, a single jump to an empty square. Jim's eyes widened, he looked up at Spock in horror, leaning in across the table to spread his lips into a devious smile. "Check mate." he said, then proceeded to laugh like an idiot.
"I congratulate you on your achievement, alas, your acting skills will need to be improved." Spock said, and if he ever rolled his eyes, Jim was sure he would have.
"Aw, come on, Spock, I can get more Oscars then Leonrdo DeCaprio!" scoffed Jim.
"He has none," Spock somewhat drawled.
"Blasphemy, the guy is sheer acting gold!" Jim protested.
"Not according to the infamous 'Academy'." said Spock.
Jim frowned at this, then started to put the pieces back in place. "Up for aother round?" he asked, waiting for Spock to reply. An eyebrows was raised, a nod was given, and no sooner then thirteen minutes later, Jim was beaten.
"Damn, now you have to dramatically check mate me." Jim dared.
Spock gave him a pointed 'You cannot be serious' look, then he sighed. Wow. A real sigh. Jim never heard the guy make that sound before, and Spock seemed to be mustering strength. What was he up to?
"Check mate," Spock stage-whispered.
It was so ridiculous, Jim feel right off his chair and laughed until his sides ached. Spock watched him, probably making sure Jim didn't cough up a lung, and he was almost smiling. Almost. That made Jim's laughs fade, but chuckles were still bubbling through his throat.
They were both sufficiently taken aback when the door opened.
"I'm home! Oh! Jimmy, hey, I got home early. Brought take out," Jim's mother said, bustling into the door.
"Oh, hi mom!" Jim said, smiling. She hardly ever came home early, he was already pretty cheerful, but now it seemed like he'd never stop grinning. "Mom, my friend Spock and I were playing chess. I've won four rounds, he's won six."
"A friend?" she sounded increduled, fixing him an intent look.
Jim facepalmed, "Mom, really, don't be so surprised."
"You've never brought one home before, not even the girls." his mother teased, then she held out her hand.
Spock awkwardly met her hand, then caustiously shook it. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Mrs Kirk."
Looking baffled by his polite greeting, Jim's mother replied, "Nice to meet you, too, Spock! And you can call me Winona, 'Mrs Kirk' just makes me feel old."
"You have no reason to accomodate such an emotion, your appearence would indicate you are hardly a day older than twenty-three." Spock said, in monotone.
"Well, aren't you just a fine young gentleman!" she exclaimed, "You've got to teach Jimmy some manners."
"Hey!" Jim cut in, "I have perfect manners, thank you very much!"
Spock raised an eyebrow as Winona broke into giggles. "Sure, Jimmy, sure." She rolled her eyes, "Join us for dinner, Spock? I bought enough for three."
"Should I be imposing, I will leave. However, if you've any salad..." Spock trailed off as Winona helpfully scooped out a plastic carton.
Next thing Jim knew, Spock was eating with them. Though it was the first time in a while he had actually gotten the chance to eat with his mother, Jim was glad Spock was there. Mostly because his mother was bombarding him with questions that Jim would shy away from.
"So, what do think of the snow?" Winona asked, "Pretty awful, Jimmy slipped and fell on his butt this morning."
"Mom!" Jim whined, "Wait- how'd you see that? You were asleep!"
"I could hear you swearing from upstairs," his mother smirked.
Spock looked like he was enjoying himself, "I have noted that he tends to lose his better vocabulary when injured."
"Not cool Spock, you should be on my side!" Jim complained, albeit smiling.
"I was merely voicing my observations," Spock said.
"How'd you find out? Did he get in another fight? Which reminds me, how's Leonard?" she was just erupting with questions. Jim smiled, "Bones is good, and you know me, Mom. I never ever fight!"
"I believe the term you often use in such situation is 'bullshit'." Spock said, then looking like he regretted it, afterwards.
Both the Kirk's broke into laughter.
The rest of the meal passed in a similair fashion, questions, answers, laughter. Jim enjoyed it, seeing his mother smile at him, seeing Spock sort of relax around her. At least there was nothing awkward between them. Finally, the hour came when Spock bid them farewell and headed home.
"He was a nice boy," Winona noted, as Spock's figure disapeared behind the door.
Jim chuckled, "Yeah, he's something else."
"You like him a lot, don't you? First friend and all." she pried, a sneaky look on her face.
"Mom, no, you cannot date Spock." Jim blurted out.
"Jesus, Jim, I'm not going to go that far! Besides, you know I'm doing better with this whole love crap." Winona muttered.
Jim gave her a hug, because, what else could he do? She was so much smaller than him, now. It felt strange. "You've gotten tall," she remarked.
"You shrunk." he teased.
They were quiet for a minute, then they broke apart. Mother and son, forever estranged. Jim knew to accept it, just as Sam had, and then he felt guilty about wanting to leave Iowa so quickly. His mother would be alone.
"Stop zooming out on me," Winona scolded.
"Sorry, I'm just...worried." Jim sighed.
She patted his shoulder, as if wiping away imaginary dust. "Yeah, well, don't worry. I'll be fine. The reason I came home early is because I'll be fine. You know why? I got a promotion, I can come home at six, now. You can stop worrying."
"Six p.m?" Jim had to ask.
His mother gave him a look, "Yes, you dummy."
"Mom, that's great!" he gave her another bear hug. No more eating alone, no more late nights. He'd still worry, of course, just not as badly. "That's wonderful!"
"We can stopped being on fucked up terms. When the snow melts, we're painting that shed." declared Winona, not even caring about using the F-bomb around her son.
Jim gave her a wholehearted grin.
...
It was a sight to remember. Spock stood in a fluffy parka of all things. He was frowning, too! Jim just couldn't help but become a total embodiment of laughter, falling into the nearest snow bank and clutching his stomach. "I fail to see why you find this humorous. Need I remind you I was raised in a city, we hardly had snowfalls like this." Spock huffed.
"You look ridiculous!" Jim managed between laughs.
"I deduced just as much." Spock said, giving a small half-shrug.
Snow was falling slowly, as Jim tried to carefully step down the hill. Spock, who had made some recent sort of silent oath to wait for Jim around eight-thirty every morning before they headed to school, stood and waited. Being the balanced being he was, Jim slipped and belly flopped down the hill like a penguin. Getting a face full of snow.
"Graceful," Spock noted.
"Shmuft tufp." Jim mumbled into the snow. Looking up, he saw a mitten covered hand held out towards him. Grasping it, Jim was heaved upwards, snow tumbling off his chin and onto his chest. Spock had raised eyebrows, and an expression that appeared to be holding back laughter. Jim let go of his hand, then wiped his face clean. It stung, where the cold had touched his skin, and he frowned in result.
"We shouldn't go to school," Jim mumbled, "The roads are closed up, Bones won't be there and neither will a lot of the teachers. Let's just go to your house and play chess or something."
"That would be illogical, we can easily get to the school from here." Spock's eyebrows were furrowed. Good sign. He was considering it.
"But, Spock!" Jim said, "You have forgotten the true logic in the situation! Why go to learn if there are no teachers?"
Spock gave him a contemplating look. Jim stared back, evenly. "You make an excellent point."
And so, they trudged back to Spock's place, Jim happy to recieve a cup of coffee upon entry. They spent the majority of the day doing forgotten homework assignments, meaning Jim's forgotten work and Spock's occasional correction every now and again, when he looked up from his book, that is, and drinking coffee.
"Okay, what time is it?" Jim yawned, finally finished with his Calculus homework.
"It is exactly two forty-seven and nineteen seconds," Spock replied, not even glancing at the clock. He was right. Jim wasn't even surprised with this, anymore. "Okay, wow, that day passed quickly."
"You were very intent on finishing your work, and have remained silent for aproximately three hours or so." Spock said matter-of-factly, "Do not interpret this as complaining, I managed to finish two books that I have been meaning to read."
"How long where they?" Jim asked.
"One was three hundred and two pages long, the other five hundred and eighty-four." Spock didn't even miss a beat. Jim was impressed, "Good for you, Spock!"
"You did well, yourself, Jim." Spock gave him a nod.
Perhaps Jim had to get these random heart flutters checked out. They seemed to only happen when he was alone with Spock. That was probably just a coincedence. "So, chess?" Jim asked.
"I would not object to that," said Spock.
They continued with a small, aimless conversation throughout their game. Jim normally caried a lot of the emotion, but Spock's eyes and the way he said things made it see like they were normal, for a change. Jim had just lost his bishop when he caught sight of a picture on the small table at his side. Spock was in it, a little younger looking, and he was holding hands with a very lovely looking girl. Envy sort of struck Jim, but it wasn't because Spock had a pretty girl and he didn't. It was more like the pretty girl had a Spock and he didn't. Weird.
"I see you've noticed Nyota," Spock said, his gaze on the picture. "You are curious, no doubt, as to who she is?"
"Yeah, well, typical old me." Jim chuckled, "So, enlighten me, my good fellow?"
"We were a couple," Spock said, almost dryly. "Unfortunately, we had been somewhat close friends before entering a relationship, and it was partially one-sided. I do indeed enjoy Nyota's company, just not in a romantic fashion. She was the one to terminate the relationship, however, when she fell for a young, Scottish engineer."
"And I thought my love live was strange," Jim whistled.
"Oh?" Spock lifted an eyebrow.
Thus began the many tales of Jim's womanizing antics, starting at age twelve and escalating to the point where every girl in his school detested him. It was a different story then Spock had expected, Jim speaking very fondly of each girl he had a fling with. There was also the mysterious case of Jim's vriginity, supposedly lost at age sixteen but never discovered to be the truth. "I was hammered." Jim explained.
"Fascinating," Spock conceded.
"Yup," Jim said.
"The two of us seem to have a horrific love life, social status, and an odd amount of grief to live with." Spock adduced, "It would seem we have more in common then people would assume upon looking at us."
"Mhmm, they'd notice our difference in fashion sense." Jim teased.
Spock then nodded, "Yes, they'd notice I have one and you do not."
"Ouch," Jim clutched his chest in mock pain.
They continued their debate on who was the fashionable one of the group, only resulting in both of them wondering why they were on that topic in the first place. Spock then brought up an interesting thing he'd read in a book, Jim intrigued with it, leading them to bring up the discusion of book v.s movie. Jim mostly rooted for movies, Spock for books.
"Okay, that's it, we're watching a really good movie cover on a book." Jim declared.
"Inform me when you discover one that exists," Spock quipped.
Jim suddenly froze, "Ever watched a James Cameron movie?"
"No, though I've only been informed with positive feedback." Spock replied.
He'd barely gotten his answer out when Jim shuffled over to the door, ranting on how Spock absolutely had to see Avatar or The Titanic, otherwise he'd live oblivious to the pure awesomeness that those movies were. Spock found himself following Jim out into the snow, wind harshly attacking them, and they all but climbed up to Jim's house. After a wild hunt for movies, some microwave popcorn, and Spock's amused eyes, the boys found themselves planted on the couch, staring at the T.V screen.
"We have mentioned Leonardo DeCaprio in a chess match," Spock mumbled, "How coincedental he should be in this film."
"Shh, this is a cultral lesson!" Jim hissed, but he was smiling.
It proved to be quite an interesting film, though the romance had much less depth than the ocean, and Jim was sniffling like a fifteen year old girl after a breakup. Spock had a ghost like frown, other than that it was all poker face. "You have no soul!" Jim wailed, not actually meaning it. Spock just shook his head and sighed.
"Okay, off topic here, but how did you get those ears?" Jim asked a question that had been bugging him for months.
"You will laugh," Spock said, his face slightly pink.
"I promise not to." Jim crossed his heart and held up his hand. "Seriously, I won't."
After a pause, Spock looked Jim dead in the eye. "A machanical rice picker."
Jim stared dumbfoundedly, but he didn't laugh. "What?"
"It was an incident when I was a child," Spock muttered.
"Are you serious? A rice picker?" Jim wasn't going to laugh.
"Yes," Spock said.
There was a short silence, then Jim broke it, "Can I laugh now?"
Spock smiled. A small one, but it was there. "You have permission."
Jim's chest felt like complete goop. He could hardly laugh, now, but somehow he got a few chuckles out. Spock's smile faded back to normal, and the goop-filled chest did with it. Weird.
"Let's watch another movie," Jim suggested, "How about Casablanca?"
"Casa what now?" Spock's eyebrows knitted. Jim finally got a large laugh out of himself, then helpfully repeated the movie title. Spock half shrugged in agreement, so Jim went off to find the classic. That's when he saw the window.
"Shit," he muttered, "Spock, you might wanna check this out."
Footsteps sounded, and then his friend was there. "What is the occurance that requires my viewing?"
"Snow. A crapload of it." Jim unhelpfully pointed out, staring at the blocked window in shock.
Spock's eyes widened, and he turned back towards the front door. He clicked it opened, then sighed. "Jim, I'm afraid I'm unable to return outside."
"Yeah?" Jim asked, still staring at the window in shock.
"It appears there is too much snow for me to properly exit the door," Spock said, making a huge understatement. The snow was over his head.
"Why would you say- MOTHERFUCK." Jim shrieked, noticing the mountain of snow that imprisoned his door. Spock was staring at it in fascination, and Jim had to slam the door shut with a string of curses about the cold weather.
"Perhaps you should call your mother," Spock offered.
Jim did, and she was trapped at the office. Doomed to stay overnight, because apparently the snowfall would only get worse. "Spock, you're sleeping over." Jim declared.
"Obviously," murmured Spock.
"You know what that means?" Jim almost sang.
Spock raised an eyebrow,"No."
"Movie marathon!" the other teen yelled, and he ran for his favorites.
"I'm thrilled," Spock muttered.
Jim eventually dug out three of the best movies he'd ever seen. Then he grabbed a couple of blankets so Spock could sleep on the couch. He offered Spock his bed, but he wouldn't have it. They were soon seated on the comfortable couch, and Jim happily put Casablanca in the DVD player, answering Spock's questions throughout the movie with pleasure. It was nice watching a movie with another person, Jim found that it was actually more enjoyable. After a couple hours, Jim swapped movies to a comedy. He guessed if Spock wouldn't cry, then he might as well get the guy to smile again. Jim laughed his head off, Spock's eyes were crinkled at the edges in humour, and before they knew it, the movie was over.
"It's getting late," Jim yawned and stretched. "I guess I'll go to bed, then."
Standing, Jim started to walk around the couch to get to his room. He was stopped by a hand lightly tugging on his shirt sleeve. "Jim," Spock said, "May we please watch another film?"
James T. Kirk felt like melting right there and then. He could only nod, pick up another DVD case, and sit back down on the couch, wondering what just happened.
It turned out, he picked The Breakfast Club. Lucky for Jim, that was a great movie. Strangely, he found himself more interested in watching Spock than the actual T.V. Spock was instantly wrapt up into the storyline, as any first time watcher of that movie would be, and his eyebrows did odd little flickers as he stared intently at the screen. Jim smiled, folding his hands over the arm of the couch, and slowly drifted to sleep. Of course, he didn't see Spock smile again when the movie ended due to the fact he was off in dreamland.
"That film was excellent," Spock said, turning to look at Jim. Originally, he had a few questions to ask about what he'd just seen, though they floated away when he saw his friend fast asleep, curled up on the couch cushion. Letting a small sigh escape him, Spock gathered the blankets that lay on the floor, and draped one over Jim. He decided to use the other one for himself, and lay his head on the other arm of the sofa. Logically, he could have woken Jim up and sent him to his proper room, Spock just didn't seem to think about that option.
"Good night, Jim." Spock mumbled, again being illogical because his friend couldn't hear him.
"G'night, Spock." Jim huffed, turning over in his sleep. He wasn't awake, but he had somehow heard Spock's words.
Fascinating.
...
Now, what's more surprising; waking up cuddled across from your friend, or having your friend wake up cuddled across from you? Jim didn't exactly know the answer, nor could he fathom one before he decided to move. Checking the door, Jim saw that the snow had melted , though it was still past his neck, and heaved a sigh. He went to call his mother, but no one picked up. She's probably still asleep, Jim thought with a yawn. Moving to the kitchen, he started to mix the batter for pancakes. Spock was vegetarian, they could eat pancakes, right? Jim had no idea.
"If you are pondering whether or not I am able to sustain that batter, I assure you I can." Spock said, entering the kitchen. Jim rolled his eyes, Spock had a habit of reading minds, and gave him a wave.
"We're still trapped inside," Jim sighed, "Feel free to use the shower. You must feel pretty gross from sleeping in those clothes, right?"
"Indeed," Spock nodded, looking slightly tired.
"Didn't sleep well?" Jim asked, flipping a pancake.
"You seem to have made a habit of kicking my feet, other than that I was quite comfortable." Spock muttered, Jim shot him an apologetic glance before flipping the pancake again.
Somehow, Spock managed to find plates in the labyrinth of dishes that was Jim's cupboard. After retrieving them, he set them on the counter next to the stove, where Jim flopped two pancakes on each of them. Spock took one plate, hen headed for the drawer that contained the utensils. Jim felt sort of groggy from sleep, but he got a weird feeling of domestic life as he and Spock ate breakfast together.
"That film you fell asleep during," Spock said between chews, "It was most interesting."
"Yeah, it's one of my favorites." Jim hummed, "It's really...well, it isn't a shitty movie. It's more real than some of that other stuff that people make about high school life."
"Yes, I found it quite accurate." Spock said before swallowing more pancake.
They chatted about the movie a while longer, before Jim broke into song. "Don't you~ Forget about me!" he called, completely off key. Spock looked increduled by his horrific rhythm, and started to correct Jim on the lyrics he got wrong. That caused a rather pointless debate, and a lot of singing that was way out of tune.
"Jim," Spock finally said, "Shut up."
Jim stopped singing and started laughing, nearly falling into his breakfast at one point. Spock just lifted his eyebrows and watched his friend.
They went about the day playing chess, debating with eachother, and everything as they regularly did. For some strange reason, though, Jim felt happier and lighter than he usually did. Was it because Spock had smiled? That didn't seem like such a big deal to an average person, but to Jim it made his heart soar. Why was that? He raked his mind across the subject until lunch, then he had to deal with whatever food he was going to have to make edible for his friend. Lucky for him, Spock was fine with just an apple and a peanut butter sandwich.
When night fell, Jim had prepared the couch so Spock would sleep better. He also had to make sure he didn't fall asleep there, Jim reminded himself this as he headed for the washroom, totally forgetting that his friend was in there.
Reaching for the door knob, Jim was startled when it suddenly swung inwards, and he was directly in front of a damp haired Spock, looking equally as surprised as Jim felt. They were so close to eachother, Jim could actually feel Spock's breath on his face. It didn't smell bad at all, which was pretty convienent.
"Oh, uh, hey Spock." Jim said, smiling nervously.
"Hello, Jim." Spock said, inclining his head a little. That brought there faces closer, bringing a bunch of weird thoughts into Jim's brain as his heart seemed to flutter and his throat went dry. Spock stepped backwards, letting Jim pass him, and left him standing in the doorway, shocked beyond belief.
Jim blamed hormones for suddenly feeling attracted to Spock, hormones and Spock's relatively handsome face. That had to be it, although Jim got the sneaky suspicion he was lying to himself.
He brushed his teeth, had a quick shower, and left the bathroom to go to bed. Spock was just laying down on the couch when Jim walked by. "Hey, I'll get the light." Jim said, reaching for the switch. "Thank you for your hospitality, Jim, you have been quite good company." Spock said, just as the lights went out. Jim was relieved Spock hadn't seen his blushing before it was dark, and rushed to his room, burrying himself in blankets and pillows.
About an hour later, Jim heard a scream.
Sitting abruptly, Jim listened again. Another scream, definitely male. Spock. Without thinking, Jim ran as fast as could down the stairs and around the corner. "Spock, what's going on?" he called, smacking the light switch. It blinded him for a second, but then he made out a figure. On the ground in front of the couch, his friend lay curled in the fetal position. "Spock, what's wrong?" Jim asked, kneeling next to the latter.
"They're all dead," Spock's voice was muffled, "I couldn't save her. Never told my mother."
Nightmare. Jim froze, he knew what that kind of talk was. Sam had done it once before, and Jim knew exactly how to handle it. Grabbing Spock by the shoulders, he pulled his friend upwards and shook him, lightly. "Spock, wake up. It's okay, you didn't do it." Jim reasurred his friend, giving him another shake.
"Jim," Spock croaked, "Jim, it's my fault. I never let her know. If I had..."
"Hey," Jim snapped, "You didn't do anything. Now wake up."
"I am consious," Spock breathed, "I saw it, I saw her, my family..."
"Do you have these nightmares often?" Jim asked, still not letting go of Spock's arms.
"Not frequently," Spock shook his head, "Dangerous to have emotions, so I shut them out."
"You're human, Spock." Jim murmured, "You can't stop feeling."
"I was being logical." Spock protested, looking up at Jim almost frantically. What else could Jim do at a moment like this? Bones would say 'I'm a doctor, not a psychyatrist!', which Jim couldn't use for obvious reasons. So he did what he had to do. He hugged Spock.
"Look, it's over. No one can hurt you right now, no one but you. And if you don't let yourself accept the fact you're hurting, it'll only get worse." Jim had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed to be working. Spock wasn't tense any more, he let out a few shuddering breaths before he did something that was unforseen to both of them. He hugged Jim back.
"My apologies for waking you," he said quietly.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Spock." Jim sighed, "If you want to cry, go ahead and do it."
"You sound like Doctor McCoy." Spock said, pretty close to amused.
"That's what I get for hanging out with him," Jim chuckled.
Spock didn't cry, but he hung onto Jim for a little while. It was out of character for him, then again, so was screaming in his sleep. Jim didn't even think about it when he reached up and smoothed Spock's hair, a gesture he'd learned to be comforting. "You gonna be okay?" Jim asked, trying to get a view of Spock's face. Pulling back, Spock nodded, his expression as neutral as ever. He hadn't let go of Jim, yet. Jim didn't exactly want Spock to let go, anyways. They stared at eachother for quite some time, until Spock finally spoke up. "You may let go of me, now."
"You let go first," Jim pouted, a little.
Spock arched a brow, "I do not desire to do that."
"Well, I don't wanna let go of you, either." Jim said, smirking a little bit.
"Most peculiar," Spock mumbled, "Typically most people our age would consider this awkward, however we both indicate no signs of such emotion."
"I'm not most people," Jim said grinning.
Spock smiled again, "You certainly are not."
Jim couldn't even help it, he just sort of leaned forward. Barely. But he still did it. Great, Spock was totally going to push him away, right? Then it would be awkward. Spock didn't push Jim off, instead he leaned forward himself. Huh.
Jim had kissed plenty of girls before, but none of those kisses were even remotely similair to this one. It was soft, sort of unexpected, and it made him feel something weird and exhilirating. Spock was kissing Jim, he was kissing Spock. It lasted for half a minute, then they broke apart, foreheads still touching.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure that would be considered awkward, too." Jim chuckled breathlessly, "It sure as hell didn't feel that way to me, though. You?"
Spock's eyebrows were high on his head, his brown eyes warm and soft. "By all means, it was anything but awkward."
The boys were silent for a moment afterwards. "So," Jim smiled, "I don't know about you, but I kind of want to do that again."
"I would not object to that," Spock said, looking close to seductive. That was probbly Jim's imagination. Their lips met again, chaste and lovely. Jim's arms moved from his friend's arms and around his neck, Spock's own wrapping around Jim's waist.
The kissing didn't get much farther than lips on lips, but Jim couldn't bring himself to mind. His chest fluttering had become something warm, and he suddenly knew what it was that had caused them. "Ever think about kissing me before this?" Jim had to ask between breaths.
"I have thought about it," Spock said, "But it is hardly as stimulating as the actual process."
"How come you sound kind of hot using smart words, now?" Jim laughed, kissing Spock again. It was returned energetically, and they stayed like that until Jim actually ended up yawning into a kiss, afterwards laughing himself to the brink of sleep. Spock helped him onto the couch, and they sort of cuddled there for a few minutes.
"You're really warm," Jim said, feeling slightly drowsy.
"Go to sleep, Jim." Spock grumbled. Jim nodded into his shoulder, wondering what on earth Bones would say to all this.
He probably should have been more concerned about how hysterical his mother would get when she found Jim and Spock draped over the couch the next morning.
A.N: If you enjoyed, thank you, if you didn't, many apologies. It's difficult to capture such brilliant characters.