A/N:
Summary: Spock presents unexpected competition for Kirk during shore leave. Kirk thinks that's hot. Kirk/Spock Pre-Slash; Spock/Random!Guy.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Wish I did.
Warnings: Slash.
Genre: Lust/Romance/Humor. The rest of the fic is a little more serious than Chapter 1 because now there is a plot.
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Certain Advantages
Chapter Two
As could be expected, Jim awoke the next morning tangled in sheets between the male and female Mycrovians he'd met on the dance floor. They were both still asleep; the female's arm was draped soothing over his chest, and the male's hand was still loosely wrapped around Jim's waist. He almost hated to disturb them, but gently he extracted himself from the situation.
The female moaned a little in protest so he amused himself by placing the male's groping hand on the female's right breast. He grinned when the two shifted closer in their sleep and began to cuddle.
Satisfied that he'd made his hosts happy, he retrieved his black shorts from a pile of strangers' clothes and silently dressed. He took in his surroundings for the first time and was happy to see that he was in a swanky penthouse apartment near the dance club. He helped himself to a snack from the kitchen—some kind of red fruit that surprised him by being spicy instead of sweet—and headed down through the lobby and out into the midmorning sunshine.
He shook his head in wonder when he realized that he could still hear the strange dance music coming from the unassuming door on the other side of the courtyard. A different set of people were milling around the entrance. Apparently the party was still going strong. He wondered when they ever had time to clean the place.
There was no sign of anyone from Starfleet, so he strolled down to the beach, thinking he'd go for a swim instead of finding some place to take a shower. The water was cold, but afterward he warmed himself in the sun as he waiting patiently for his shorts to dry. The fabric was still clinging to his thighs when he looked up into a pair of annoyed Human eyes.
"Jim, put your goddamn clothes on. I'm not even going to ask if you used sunblock."
"Bones." Jim shook his head and tried to focus on the doctor, who had come up from behind him.
"Come on, I booked us a room and had Nurse Chapel beam us down a fresh change of clothes."
"Kay."
"You seen Spock today?"
Jim shook his head as he got dressed for the second time that day. "I was kinda hoping that was a weird, sex-induced dream."
"Nope. Chapel said he was acting weird all yesterday, too."
"He hasn't been replaced with a robot or anything, has he?"
Bones gave him a long-suffering look. "There wouldn't be much difference if that were the case. Apparently he was rude to her."
"Rude? Rude how?"
"Threw a bowl of plomeek soup at her. Yelled, too."
"Must have been pretty terrible soup."
Bones grimaced. "She made it from scratch because she noticed he hadn't been eating."
"Huh. That's kinda romantic. I guess she's not his type?"
He and Bones were on their way to the hotel when they saw Spock. The Vulcan was standing ramrod straight on the entryway, talking to the same alien from last night.
Tattoo Guy—so dubbed because something vicious inside Jim made him feel uncharitable—was standing next to Spock, but his posture wasn't as rigid. And sure, he wasn't touching Spock at all, but Jim could tell from the way his eyes focused on Spock's lips as the Vulcan spoke that Tattoo Guy wanted to touch him. And Spock didn't look like he would necessarily mind if that happened.
"Morning, Spock. Morning, Tattoo Guy."
The Mycrovian's smile didn't reach his eyes. "James Kirk. Leonard McCoy. My name is T'San."
"Nice to meet you. Look, I gotta talk to Spock."
Spock raised his eyebrows in anticipation. Jim gave Tattoo Guy his sweetest fake smile. "In private."
The Mycrovian nodded and held his hand out toward Spock, the index and middle fingers extended. Spock mirrored the gesture, and their hands briefly touched before the Mycrovian walked away. Bones shifted his weight to one side and crossed his arms, obviously trying to restrain himself from saying something.
Spock watched his companion for a few moments before turning back to Jim. "What is it you wish to discuss, Captain?"
"What is it I . . . ? Don't play dumb with me, Spock. Just last week you were going on about how Vulcans don't need vacations and wouldn't be caught dead planetside during shore leave even if we ever did manage to get here, and yesterday you're sticking your tongue down some random guy's throat. Oh, and three days ago you broke up with Uhura and didn't tell me. So spill it."
"I will, of course, ignore your inaccurate figure of speech and assume you desire an explanation."
"That's what I said."
"Not to mention that now you're all prim and proper—was that how Vulcans kiss, Spock?" Bones demanded.
Spock ignored the doctor and addressed Jim. "Am I to understand that you disapprove of my actions after you recommended multiple times that I join you during shore leave?"
"I . . . no. I don't disapprove. Wait, Bones, what's a Vulcan kiss? The thing with their hands?"
Bones nodded, but Spock did not give him a chance to speak. "Do you in any way believe that my actions have compromised my performance as First Officer?"
"Well, no . . . ."
"Then I must ask you, Captain, to respect the fact that my actions last night were a personal matter."
Jim blinked. "Oh, come on. You can't just hook up with Tattoo Guy and not expect me to be curious."
"His name is T'San, and while your curiosity is anticipated, it is simply not welcome. Good day, Captain. Doctor."
Spock tried to retreat up the stairs, but Jim grabbed his arm. "Uh uh. There's something wrong with you, so you're going to sickbay. That's an order. Back me up here, Bones."
"Probably not a bad idea, Spock."
"On the contrary, Doctor, I am feeling quite well."
Jim snorted. "I'm sure that's Tattoo Guy's specialty."
"Captain, please unhand me, or I shall be required to use force."
"Fuck that. Now you're being insubordinate, which probably means you've been infected with a space virus or something even worse. Sickbay. Now."
"Jim's right," Bones added. "Chapel's worried about you, too, so at least let me take a look at you."
Spock leveled a long-suffering glare at Jim and pulled his arm away. Jim wasn't strong enough to resist, but at least his First Officer remained where he was.
"Captain, if I convince you that I am not ill, will you allow me some privacy for the remainder of shore leave?"
Jim relaxed. "Yeah. Okay. But I've gotta be convinced."
The skin around Spock's eyes tightened almost imperceptibly. He didn't say anything.
"Well?" Jim asked.
"Captain. Jim."
"Spock." Jim tried not to look as impatient as he felt, but he knew he was failing miserably when Spock's expression softened fondly.
"Vulcans . . . do not discuss this with outworlders."
"Outworlders? Come on, Spock, I thought we were friends."
Spock hesitated.
"Oh, hell, I'll leave if you want, Spock." Bones turned to go.
"Wait, Doctor. I would prefer you stay. You are both my friends."
Bones looked slightly mollified. Spock looked from one man to the other and finally decided to focus on a point in the distance. "It is a matter of . . . Vulcan biology."
"What about Vulcan biology?" Bones asked.
"He means sex," Jim said helpfully.
Bones frowned. "He doesn't mean sex, Jim. He's a Vulcan, for God's sake."
"A Vulcan who got lucky last night. Tell him you mean sex, Spock."
Spock gave the smallest and most reluctant of nods.
"See? I win."
Bones frowned even more. When he spoke, though, his voice was lower, as if to give Spock some privacy in an otherwise public place. "Fine. So what's going on?"
Spock still did not answer.
"There's no need to be embarrassed, Spock," Jim said. "It happens to the birds and bees."
"The birds and the bees are not Vulcans, Captain." Jim was about to argue, but then decided to remain quiet. "If they were," Spock continued (and Jim could have sworn that Spock was slightly greener than normal), "if any creatures as proudly logical as us were to have their logic ripped from them, as this time does to us . . ."
"Wait, 'this time'?"
"How do Vulcan's choose their mates, Captain? Haven't you wondered?"
"Um." Jim looked to Bones, who looked equally at a loss. "I guess the rest of us assume that it's done . . . you know. Logically."
"No."
"No?"
"It is not. We shield it with a ritual and customs shrouded in antiquity. It strips our minds from us. It brings a madness which rips away our veneer of civilization. It is the Pon Farr—the time of mating."
Jim marshaled every ounce of self-control he had so that he wouldn't giggle. He failed. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Did you really just say the word 'mating'?"
Bones glared. "Shut it, Jim. Even I'm more sensitive that."
"I know, I know. Go on, Spock."
Spock has steeled his face into an impassive Vulcan mask, which made Jim feel guilty. "There are precedents in nature, Captain; the giant eel-birds of Regulus Five, once each eleven years, must return to the caverns where they were hatched. On your Earth, the salmon must return to that one stream where they were born to spawn. Or die in trying."
"Yeah, but you're not a fish, Spock. If you haven't noticed."
"No, nor am I Human. I am a Vulcan. I'd hoped I would be spared this, given my mixed heritage, but the ancient drives were too strong. A few days ago, it caught up with me, but later than anticipated. Normally, every seven years upon reaching maturity, Vulcan males are driven home to take a mate. Or they die."
"Die?" Bones looked murderous. "You should've come to me, damn you."
"There was nothing, medically, to be done."
"So . . . you just needed to have sex? And no more throwing bowls of soup at nurses? Problem solved?" Jim deflated when he realized that the crisis was over before he'd known it existed. "Why didn't you just go to Uhura?"
Spock's back stiffened even more, which shouldn't have been possible in Jim's book. "When I proposed the ritual, Nyota declined."
Jim gaped. "Wait, she was just gonna let you die?"
"Of course not. I did not tell her of the Pon Farr's fatal consequence."
"But . . . why not? I mean, even if she wasn't in the mood, she'd have done it. You'd rather have sex with a stranger than tell your girlfriend you're dying?"
"The solution to the madness of Pon Farr is not just sex, Captain." Jim was certain now that Spock was blushing. "It requires a permanent telepathic bond between the participants. It is the bond that we create when we marry. Nyota did not consider our relationship suitable for such a step. I would not force a marriage on her out of guilt."
" . . . Fuck." Jim didn't know what to do, so he clapped Spock on the back. "I'm sorry."
"It is of no consequence. The matter has been resolved satisfactorily."
Bones shook his head. "So what you're trying to say is you just got yourself hitched to a complete stranger?"
"Although you did not intend such linguistic precision, Doctor, the term 'hitched' is apt under the circumstance. Although we did not complete the traditional rituals, T'San is my bondmate."
Jim felt an inexplicable sense of panic at that thought. "Wait. Married? Bondmate? We could've taken you back to New Vulcan. We could've found . . . I don't know . . . another way . . ."
"New Vulcan is too far from our current location, Captain. I would have perished in transit. Besides, I find T'San an agreeable mate."
"You've just met him, Spock!" Bones and Spock were staring at him like he'd grown a third eye or sprouted horns.
"Indeed, we met last night. We have since had time to become adequately acquainted, however, during a mind meld."
"A mind meld. Right." Jim nodded, but he felt numb. He suppressed the memories of older Spock's hands on his face, giving him unexpected and unwanted emotions. He forced a smile. "Well, I'm happy for you. Congratulations. Bones, let's go. Now."
"Yeah, maybe's that's for the best." Bones took Jim by the arm, but they were interrupted by a shout from behind them.
"Wait! Please!"
Jim spun around and saw Tattoo Guy jogging toward them, his hands raised in a pleading gesture. He reached them in a few swift strides and rested one arm around Spock's shoulders. Jim gritted his teeth when Spock looked at his bondmate with a worried, intimate glance.
"Please, you are Starfleet officers. I need your help."
"What has happened?" Spock asked, his voice pitched lower and more earnest than Jim had ever heard it.
"It is my brother. Please, James Kirk. I need your help, or he will die."