Jim was late for class. Again.

It was the third time, this week, that his alarm hadn't woken him up. Part of him wanted to blame the skull splitting headache neither he, nor Bones could get rid of. The rest of him was simply waiting for the weekend to roll around so that he could buy another clock. And have a break from all his classes. His schedule was packed like no one's business.

Jim raced through the deserted corridors, class had begun at least ten minutes prior, and around a corner. He pulled open the back door to the lecture hall and swiftly clambered up both flights of stairs.

The things he did to cause minimal disruptions.

"Cadet Kirk, I presume. It is thoughtful of you to join us." An unknown voice spoke up from the front of the theatre.

Jim flinched, an involuntary reaction he'd picked up on Tarsus. It never did well to draw unnecessary attention to one's self. Not like this. His reputation as a womaniser and heart breaker was totally different. That made him fade into an odd obscurity. This was not good.

An excuse waiting on his lips, Jim turned to face the unknown professor. Their eyes met and Jim stopped breathing.

The 'Headache of Doom', as he'd come to call it, grew in intensity.

Jim's vision blurred. Sound ceased.

He fell.

When he regained consciousness, he almost wished he hadn't.

The headache, although dulled, had changed considerably. Instead of feeling like something was attempting to gain his attention, turn him in some particular direction, it felt angry. It was like something, some fundamental part of himself was straining, trying to claw itself out.

Vaguely, he could hear Bones arguing with someone. May the gods have mercy on their poor, unfortunate soul. Bones was worse than a mother sehlat anytime Jim got himself injured.

'What the Hell's a sehlat?' Jim wondered, confused. He had no idea what a sehlat was and yet, he had the feeling he'd seen one before.

He pondered over the word and the faint memories.

It was an animal. He'd used it to describe Bones so, it was big, gruff and pretty protective.

The word itself was what really stumped him. It felt familiar, like the taste of homemade cooking. It definitely wasn't Standard. Or, he quickly thought through the eight other Earth languages he knew, anything he'd heard before. If he had to guess, it almost sounded Romulan. He spoke Romulan, fluently. It definitely wasn't that. Closest to Romulan. He racked his brain.

Vulcan.

Jim remembered.

He walked into class. Got an earful from their substitute. Looked up at the Vulcan. His headache went psycho and he'd fallen down the stairs. Someone must have caught him before he reached the bottom.

He could vaguely remember being pressed against a warm torso. He must have been picked up and carried. At some point, his forehead touched an abnormally hot neck.

The pain had changed then.

Whatever had been trying to escape started to hum and… push through him? The arms tightened like steel manacles.

Unbidden, memories of Kodos, of pain and of hunger burst from their cells. The arms loosened and the chest rumbled soothingly. His neck briefly hurt, like a pinch, and then nothing.

'Bones finally hypo'd me then.' Jim was broken from his musings by Spock's voice.

"Doctor, I do believe the cadet has regained consciousness." The deep voice was completely devoid of any inflection yet somehow managed to convey condescending disapproval.

Despite this, his mind started humming. He felt happy and excited. It made no sense. This guy seemed like a stuck up prick and yet, even thinking badly of him, felt wrong. Jim though that maybe he'd finally snapped. This was all some crazy, headache induced psychosis.

Something rubbed against his hand. It sent little electric shocks up and down his arm.

'Spock!' His mind sung.

"Woah there professor! I know what those hands of yours do. Keep them away from Jim." Bones snapped.

If his eyelids weren't so heavy, Jim would have glared at Bones. The touch made it stop hurting.

"I presume you are attempting to 'lookout' for him however, the cadet is my bondmate." Spock asserted. The hand came back and fingers trailed along Jim's palm. Spock's touch was soothing, like water over a burn.

"Bondmate? Ha! I thought Vulcans were monogamous." Bones snorted and to be honest, Jim felt a little hurt.

"Indeed doctor, we are. Vulcans mate for life." Spock laced their fingers. "It is not something to take lightly."

"Sorry to break it to you," Bones growled, "Jim sleeps with everyone. I don't know what he said to get you into bed but he doesn't date. Or get married. He charms and sleeps his way thorough life. He doesn't want a Vulcan."

Alien irritation flashed through Jim's mind. It was like a dark, powerful entity with a mind of its own. He could feel himself becoming heavy. Darkness was calling, her song so sweet.

"Doctor, there is no need to keep him sedated. The-" Spock was interrupted.

"Look, get out. I don't need a know it all hobgoblin telling me what to do." Bones' voice was fading fast. Jim didn't want Spock to go. He needed him.

"If that is your wish."

Spock was gone and Jim was glad he was seconds from deep, drug induced slumber. The pain was so great. His entire body thrummed with it.

During the next two weeks, Jim spent more time in the library than he'd spent in various detention centres. He searched through every book and database he could find. For one of the founding members of the Federation, Vulcans were tight lipped about, well, everything.

Jim had read that they were vegetarians, felinids, liked warm places, were touch telepaths, descended from fierce warriors and had copper based blood. Everything he could find was fairly general knowledge.

The only thing he'd really learnt was that they did have emotions. Logic was a way to control themselves so they weren't overcome by their passions. Apparently a passionate Vulcan was a terrifying, bloodthirsty killing machine. It did explain the flashes of emotion Jim occasionally picked up which weren't his own. They were more powerful than anything he'd ever felt before. Thank, Jim looked at the thick tomb in his hand, Skon he'd found the translated copy of Surak's tenants.

So Jim Kirk, after more than seventy hours of searching, hit a brick wall. He'd come as far as was legally possible.

His fingers twitched over the keyboard. There was no one around. Pale hands shook as he reached for the screen. It was almost midnight and the night guard had only just passed through. Jim was well aware that he had a two hour window to work with. The question was, could he get into the VSA database?

It was likely, even at his best, he couldn't hack the high security system. Now, two weeks of inadequate sleep, failed appetite and restlessness, Jim was more than bone tired.

He was also lonely.

Normally, Jim was an extremely tactile person. It was how he expressed affection, appreciation or comfort to others. Now, Jim couldn't stand anyone's touch. He felt flighty around others and plain uncomfortable every time Bones or Gary so much as slapped him on the shoulder.

Not that he'd been interacting much with Bones. He had forgiven him, sure. Jim knew his grouchy best friend didn't mean what he said maliciously. Jim had slept with more than a few people. It was fact.

It wasn't quite the commitment which was the issue. The initial 'oh hey, I have a heart too' was the problem. He just couldn't- No one ever stuck around. So maybe, it was abandonment issues he had to work through.

In the end, Bones had said the truth; or what he thought was the truth. Spock had left. And he'd taken all those nice feelings with him too. Actually, he'd taken all feeling. Jim was left completely numb.

Perhaps he should give up. Whatever was happening in his head didn't matter.

Jim got out of his seat and trudged home.

"Why the Hell didn't you tell me your head was still messed up?" Bones paced up and down the length of their dorm room. His hands were fisted in his hair, pulling harshly at the dark strands.

"Look Bones, I just need to know about Vulcans." Jim reiterated. His head was slowly driving him insane. The pain was coming in waves now. And Jim had a few ideas why. If he was right, professor Spock was shielding him. As best he could. Which in itself meant that Spock wasn't doing so well.

And Jim didn't like that idea. He didn't like it at all.

They may have only met once but this thing inside his head said differently.

At night, he dreamt of Vulcan. Of sand and sun and warmth so divine it made his muscles ache when he woke.

He dreamt of a le'matya howling through the pitch black night. A sehlat, more teddy than ferocious beast.

A Human woman, beautiful and strong and kind, who he loved. And the shame. The shame of his heritage. His lack of emotional control. The brown eyes which stared back at him in the mirror, a perfect reflection of his inner turmoil. The words and stares of others. A vicious, all consuming rage. A need to protect. Fear of her. Her death. Her knowing. Her not knowing.

A man he strove so hard to appease. The one who cast out his full blooded son. Who looked at him with such cold eyes. Studying hard to live up to his expectations.

Acing the test with perfect scores. Heart pulling him in a different direction. Looking to the stars. Feeling a deep, burning need to be away. Away from this. Away from them.

Starfleet. Too Human. Too Vulcan. Never enough. Never right. Never fitting in. Vulcans don't need friends. (Doesn't mean they don't have them. That he doesn't want them.)

Losing himself in equations and variables and hypotheses and linguistics. Anything to bury himself. To fill the void no one else wanted to see.

There were students who tried. Lured in by his exotic alien looks. Or the challenge of making an emotionless Vulcan show emotions. He feigned ignorance to their flirtations.

And then he saw Jim. Or Jim saw himself through Spock's eyes. Either way, he saw himself chasing a small dog. The puppy was yapping, twisting and turning it's way through legs. Jim trailing behind. Amusement leaked through his shields as Jim tripped over the dog and into the Zefram Cochrane statue. He loped over and pulled Jim off the ground. The dog naturally ran back to them, as he'd expected it to.

He didn't really think of the incident again. Not until the headaches began and he realised Jim was the only person he'd touched. There was no way he could deny the thread between their minds.

If there was anything Jim had learnt from Spock's memories, he was a genuinely nice guy. Sweet and caring and intelligent and everything Jim never knew he wanted. But now he was all too aware.

But Spock's words in the hospital stuck. A bond wasn't something to be taken lightly. And Bones was the only person Jim trusted enough to give him a second opinion.

"So the hobgoblin wasn't lying." Bones muttered before sighing. "No one knows much Jim. It's not like they share anything with the rest of us. M'Benga might know something more."

Jim felt his face fall. He'd really hoped Bones could spurt off some medical stuff to back up Jim's second hand knowledge.

"Kid, I know you've been through a lot. And I know you don't trust easy." Bones sat on the coffee table right in front of Jim. "Maybe you should talk to him. I'm no Vulcan expert but the way he looked at you. It was the way I used to look at Jocelyn."

It didn't take Jim too long to find his Vulcan. Spock was sitting in a private study room, Uhura beside him. Books and PADDs surrounded the pair, blocking out the rest of the world. Jim felt something stir in his head a single second before Spock looked up.

Their eyes met, blue clashing with brown. The pain in Jim's head suddenly increased, causing his knees to buckle.

He fell to his knees, finally drawing Uhura's attention. She gasped and Jim guessed that he didn't look the best. He'd been avoiding the xenolinguistics club so he doubted she'd actually seen him in the last few weeks.

"What the hell, Kirk?" She cried out, jumping to her feet. A soft hand pushed his fringe off his forehead, checking his temperature. To be honest, Jim was touched. He'd never thought Uhura would care. They had this thing where he pissed her off and she told him to fuck himself. Cue walking away.

"Nyota, I believe our study session has reached its conclusion." Spock said, never taking his eyes off Jim.

She looked between them, confused, before packing up her things.

"Same time next week, professor?" She asked just as she reached the door. Uhura looked more unsure of herself than Jim had ever seen her before.

"Affirmative." Spock replied.

Jim felt like he was under a tractor beam. The world around him blurred, Spock the only thing in focus.

"James." Spock breathed, unfolding himself from his seat and closing the space between them.

"Spock." Jim sighed as long fingers trailed along his skin. The pain was gone, replaced with an electric undercurrent of concern and tenderness.

"May I?" Spock asked, fingers hovering over Jim's meld points. The question was clear and Jim felt excited goosebumps break out over his skin. He wanted this. He really, really wanted Spock in his head. For the first time, he wanted to share everything with someone. Someone he trusted and cared for.

"Please." Jim nodded, pushing his face into the warm digits.

"My mind to your mind" Spock whispered, 'my thoughts to your thoughts.'

The transition was seamless. One moment Jim was looking into Spock's eyes. The next, he was in his head. Spock right in front of him. All around them, his thoughts and memories played in an endless loop. Except he could see Spock's in there too.

If felt right. Easy.

Spock took his hand, leading him through the vast space. At what seemed like random, Spock would draw his free hand through the memories. Some he passed to Jim, letting him live through the moment. Not a single detail was omitted.

When Jim came back to himself he knew more about Spock and Vulcans than he'd ever hoped.

"I am most appreciative, James." Spock murmured, "You are the most incredible being I have ever met."

Jim could feel his cheeks flushing, a blush working its way down his neck. Spock was blunt and never said anything he didn't mean. Jim really wanted to kiss him.

The next thing he knew, warm lips were slanted over his own. Hot hands gripped at his hips, pulling him impossibly closer. The heat, the friction was incredible. Better than anything he'd ever felt. Being with a telepath sure had its perks.

"Sp-Spock." Jim gasped, "Maybe we should move this, elsewhere?"

The hands on his hips squeezed, thumbs rubbing hot circles over the jutting bones. Jim was going to take that as agreement.

"Wahh!" Jim yelped, Spock lifting him without effort.

Yeah. He was taking that as agreement.

15 days down! Yay! Tomorrow the next chapter of When You Feel My Heat comes out. I hope you're all enjoying my month of updates.

:D

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.