Thank you all for commenting! As promised, here is the next intallment. I'm a little unsure about the story, mostly because Jim is unsure and Spock can't talkm which makes it difficult for me to convey what is happening.

Anywaaay!

These are the answers to the reviews I could not answer privately:

Guest: That is very true! :)

spockjimlover: Not sure about the lemon, to be honest, considering they don't know each other at all (and Spock has, as of yet, not been able to speak to Jim properly!) Ahm... I've been out of the anime-loop for a while, so, uhm, Spock is the top in all my stories, so I think you'll be happy? :)

Alrightey. I apologise for every error, I removed those I found, had a friend read through it, too, but you know how things go, you can't find everything! Enjoy!


Breathe across the Palms

Jim was not sure when he lost consciousness or why, but the next time he opened his eyes he found himself staring at the root-covered inside of a small cave. The small hollow he had been placed into was cushioned by moss and he could hear the sound of a waterfall coming from close by. Sitting up, Jim inspected his surroundings until he discovered his backpack lying by the cave's entrance, bathed in the sunlight filtering in through the curtain of vines obscuring the outside.

There was no trace of Spock, however.

Heaving himself out of the hollow, Jim crawled towards his backpack and pulled one of the water bottles. Washing the stale taste from his mouth before taking a sip, Jim attempted to figure out how to get out of the miserable situation he had gotten himself into.

Setting the bottle of water aside, Jim began to search for his communicator. If he was lucky, he would be able to call someone and get help. Jim activated the small device and sighed heavily. No signal.

Of course.

Dropping the phone back into his backpack, Jim ran a hand through his hair and stretched out his legs with a groan. There was no way his mother would ever take him along ever again. If he ever got out of this damn forest, of course.

A lump of fear settled in his stomach, tight and heavy. Had Spock abandoned him? Was that wannabe Tarzan even Spock? It had been a while since he had last seen the Vulcan, at least ten years or so. Spock had been a very serious eleven year old back then and not at all inclined to deal with an overexcited eight year old like Jim.

The vines rustled, scaring Jim out of his musings and prompting him to scramble away from the entrance.

Spock stepped through, arms full with, what Jim thought, looked like gespar and kray fruits, but he could not be sure. The Vulcan settled down onto the ground and let the fruits roll out of his arms. Jim kept his mouth shut as he watched Spock peel the bumpy skin off a gespar, the purple juice staining elegant fingers.

Once he was done, Spock held the fruit out to Jim. Still apprehensive, Jim hesitated for a moment before reaching out to accept the offering. At least he had not turned out allergic to Vulcan cuisine, otherwise he would be in even bigger trouble than Jim had initially assumed. Biting into the fruit with a muffled 'thank you', Jim ate, both eyes trained on the, for now, docile Vulcan.

Dragging his communicator out of his backpack once more, Jim checked the picture of Spock he had downloaded onto the device for that exact same purpose. It had been too dark to properly identify the Vulcan last night, the light of his flashlight not enough to make absolutely sure. Apart from the blood crusted hair and the absence of logic in those dark brown eyes, the Vulcan was definitely Spock.

"These are good," Jim said, hoping to break the awkward silence, and lowered the half-eaten fruit as he put away his communicator.

Spock looked up and tilted his head, brown eyes devoid of anything that might have clued Jim into what the Vulcan was thinking. No answer was given, and Spock returned his attention to the fruits. Eyes trailing over the gash marring Spock's forehead, Jim made a careful guess that it was the reason for the Vulcan's inability to communicate properly.

Spock moved, shifting closer and pressing a peeled kray against Jim's lips. A little confused, Jim opened his mouth, chewing dutifully after Spock deposited the fruit on his tongue. With a pleased hum, the Vulcan nodded and returned to peeling more fruits.

It was bizarre.

As he continued to eat, Jim did his best not to freak out. He was in the middle of nowhere, with a concussed Vulcan feeding him fruits and a useless communicator. At least Spock was nice to look at. Even if the head wound was a worrisome sight.

After finishing their meal, they spent some time darting around each other. Spock seemed just as unsure about Jim, as Jim was about the Vulcan. Although Spock's wariness appeared to be of a more protective kind, a need to ascertain that Jim would not cause himself harm in some way.

From time to time, the Vulcan would approach to touch Jim's hair, or finger the dirtied fabric of his jeans. It was a strange kind of dance. Jim allowed it, seeing no harm in indulging the curious Vulcan. It was refreshing, in a way, to see someone who belonged to a species ruled by logic and restraint so carefree.

When Jim grew thirsty, he drank from his water bottle again and was surprised when Spock reached for it. At least the Vulcan's head was not completely broken, then. That was a relief, albeit a small one.

At some point, Jim spoke up once more, "So, uh… Spock, any reason why you're hiding in a cave?"

The Vulcan hummed, gathering up the peels to toss them out of the cave. Jim huffed, waving his arm through the air. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" he leaned forward to peer at Spock's face.

Jim did not even see Spock's hand dart forward, fingers wrapping around Jim's wrist to keep his arm still. More surprised than genuinely shocked, Jim did his best to stay still to ensure that he had not frightened the Vulcan in some way. Not that he actually believed that Spock thought him to be in any way dangerous, considering that the Vulcan had thrown him over his shoulder and carried him off like a sack of potatoes a few hours ago.

The odd warmth he had felt once before seeped through the contact, settling in the back of his head and Jim felt his fear drain away. Licking his upper lip, Jim tried again, "You are S'chn T'Gai Spock, right?"

The Vulcan's grip tightened for a brief second and Jim smiled when Spock gave a slow nod. Alright, at least his theory had been proven correct. Now, Jim just needed to figure out how to make Spock understand that they needed to return to the embassy. Which would prove difficult, considering what had happened last night.

Spock moved closer, nostrils flaring as the Vulcan tilted his head downwards to bury his face against Jim's throat. Mouth hanging open, Jim sat frozen for a long moment and then began to push at Spock's shoulder. "Okay, big guy, how about you explain some things first bef-"

Spock whined and Jim's mouth snapped shut in shock. Pacified, Spock continued to nuzzle at Jim's neck, uttering an assortment of wordless huffs and growls. Eyes directed at the ceiling, Jim did his best not to laugh whenever Spock's scruff tickled his skin. At some point, Spock seemed satisfied with whatever it was he had been doing, and Jim breathed a sigh of relief when the Vulcan leaned away.

"Okay," Jim whispered, "Okay. Listen, uh, Spock, we need to get back to the embassy. Do you understand? I need to go back to my Mom, so I can go home. You want to go home, too, right?"

The Vulcan outright frowned at him, slanted eyebrows shifting downwards as Spock's hold on Jim's hand became just this side of painful. Hissing, Jim attempted to tug his wrist out of Spock's tight grip and yelped when the Vulcan, instead of letting go, gave a hard tug. Jim ended up pressed against Spock's chest, now more than done with what was happening; he was not a toy!

Jim wiggled, doing his best to get Spock to loosen his death grip, which proved difficult with a heavy Vulcan hand pressing down against his back. Finally, Jim had enough of being manhandled, "Spock, stop!"

The change was instantaneous. Spock released Jim's wrist and removed his own hand from Jim's back, allowing Jim to scramble off the Vulcan's lap. Straightening out his rumbled clothes, Jim shot a glare towards Spock and gave a tiny laugh when the Vulcan offered an apologetic whine.

"It's fine," Jim soothed. "Just don't do that again."

Spock nodded.

"Good." Jim rubbed at the reddened skin around his wrist. Stupid Vulcan strength. "So, what was that about? Don't you want to go home?"

The Vulcan furrowed his brows, lifting a hand to touch the wound on his forehead, an almost pathetic expression growing upon the Vulcan's face. "Is it because you're hurt?"

Spock shook his head, then stood, clearly frustrated, and walked out of the cave without further comment. Jim gaped, then jumped to his feet and hurried after the Vulcan.

The forest was an assortment of colours. Dark purple leaves twined with bright greens, while thin, blue vines crawled up the thick, brown trunks of various trees, adorning them like ornaments. Jim stood mesmerised for a long second, eyes gliding over the enormous, yellowish blossoms sprouting out of the ground and spreading their fan-like petals across the red earth.

Shaking off the spell the sight had cast upon him, Jim twirled on the spot to figure out where Spock had disappeared to. Off to the left, Jim finally spotted a tousled mop of raven hair and broke into a jog to catch up to the Vulcan.

"Spock!" Jim reached out as soon as he was close enough to curl his fingers into the ripped fabric of Spock's shirt. "Slow down. Where are you going?"

The Vulcan turned to look at him, one hand coming up to touch Jim's cheek. The picture of a waterfall flashed before Jim's inner eye, startling him. Of course, he was aware that Vulcans were touch-telepaths, but not even Ivek, whom he had known since he was a child of three, had ever dared to touch his mind. Not even for the briefest of seconds.

Yet Spock, whom he had never truly talked to, had decided, somewhere in that scrambled brain of his, that Jim was trustworthy.

"Water?" Jim asked, unsure. "You… want to… have a bath?"

Spock inclined his head, clasped his hand around Jim's wrist, gentler this time around, and began to pull Jim along. A bath would be nice, Jim decided. He was feeling a little grimy and there was fruit juice all over his hands. Yes, a bath would definitely be nice right now. Even if it was in some hole in the ground.

Spock led him to a small pond, hidden within an assortment of smooth rocks. A tiny waterfall chased a constant ripple across the clear water, half obscuring the colourful stones covering the ground.

Jim barely had time to admire the view before he was forced to shut his eyes. Spock had let go of his hand and begun to strip.

Hands covering his face, Jim listened to the sound of fabric dropping to the ground and finally the distinct splashing of Spock entering the shallow pool. Peering through his fingers, Jim found that the Vulcan had moved towards the waterfall, and allowed the water to wash off the dirt and blood covering his shoulders. Averting his gaze, Jim took a deep breath and began to divest himself of his clothing.

He was not shy, far from it, but this was a little too intimate. After all, the last time he shared a bath with someone, he was two years old and still putting bubble crowns onto his brother's head.

Placing his clothes onto a sun warmed rock, Jim shuffled towards the edge of the pool. The water was pleasantly cool, a welcome change to the hot air around Jim. Sitting down, Jim began to scoop water up with both hands to wash away the sweat and dirt sticking to his skin. Too focused on removing every stain he could find, Jim noticed too late that Spock had abandoned his spot by the waterfall to sidle up beside him.

Curious hands brushed over Jim's bare shoulders, cold from the water. Whipping his head around, Jim was about to tell Spock to keep his hands to himself, when the Vulcan decided to lean forward and nip at the curve of Jim's shoulder. A shudder trickled down Jim's spine and his ever active brain began to calculate whether the current situation was in any way ethically acceptable. Spock, after all, was not in his right mind. Right?

The Vulcan decided to not mind Jim's internal struggle and began to brush his broad palms over every inch of skin they could reach. It should have been awkward, but Jim could not bring himself to move away from the soft touches. Spock's hands worked in a gentle petting motion instead of the invasive, explorative kind of way Jim had expected.

Spock did not seem in a hurry, inspecting every mole, every freckle he discovered. Finally, Spock cupped Jim's face between his large hands, thumbs brushing over the thin skin beneath Jim's lower eyelids. There was something like wonder in the Vulcan's eyes, the green-tinted lips parted.

Jim's gaze was drawn to the gash above Spock's brow, drooling a sluggish trickle of diluted blood down the side of Spock's face where the scabbing had been disrupted. Once Jim had determined that the wound was not going to split open, he directed his attention to the Vulcan's features, taking in the sharp edged face, the straight, yet prominent nose, and the soft brown eyes.

Spock was handsome, Jim decided.

Spock seemed to preen, eyes narrowing as his mouth curled at the edges as if to smile. Jim huffed, "Reading minds without permission is a no-no, Spock. We don't do that, okay?"

Reaching down, Spock grabbed onto Jim's hand to bring it up to his own face. Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not a telepath, Spock. I can't read your thoughts."

The Vulcan did not seem deterred and Jim wondered if Spock had simply not understood, or was just a very stubborn person. Probably the latter. With a sigh, Jim settled his palm against Spock's cheek. His fingers scraped across the hint of a stubble growing along the edge of Spock's jaw and Jim smiled when Spock leaned into the contact.

There was a strange sense of tranquillity in the air, all sense of haste banished by the quiet splashing of the waterfall and the sound of Spock's breathing. Something stretched between them, growing from Jim to Spock, and from Spock to Jim. Something old, yet new, twining together like yarn made gold.

Jim's vision grew foggy, Spock's face swimming in and out of focus. There was a loud thrumming sound between his ears, similar to the buzzing of electricity travelling through a cable. Visions of a night sky splintering apart above dunes of white hot sand filled Jim's mind, a thousand bells ringing as the stars fell like rain.

The sensations seemed to last an eternity, and when Spock's hands dropped away, Jim felt it linger at the back of his head.

"What happened?" Jim asked, dazed.

His hand was still pressed against Spock's cheek, a combination of confusion and excitement seeping through the contact. Spock did not answer, instead reaching for Jim's other hand, brushing their fingertips together.

Jim felt his face grow hot.

"Spock?" his voice would not go above a whisper.

The Vulcan's eyes had darkened, a hint of minty green colouring the tips of his ears and the sharp line of his cheekbones. Spock leaned in and Jim let his eyes flutter shut. Their lips brushed, nothing but the slightest of touches, but it caused the strangeness in Jim's head to flare to life, bright and hot, like a new-born star.

It left Jim breathless, his mind so overwhelmed and his limbs so weak, not even Spock picking him up to carry him back to the cave made him wish to move. Only when the Vulcan placed him back into the hollow, did Jim find the strength to come to.

Spock had cushioned the hollow further by placing their clothes over the pile of moss, apparently very much at ease with being naked in front of Jim. Not that Spock had anything to hide or be ashamed of, Jim noted. On the contrary. From the numerous glimpses Jim had caught, the Vulcan appeared well equipped.

Curling into a loose ball, Jim waited until Spock slipped into the nest behind him. Now that the odd trance had worn off, Jim's brain started to come online once more and allowed every worry he had to come back to the surface. As if sensing Jim's struggle, Spock gave a soothing hum, wrapping his muscular arms around Jim, pulling them closer together. To Jim's surprise, the contact did not add to his discomfort, but calmed him instead.

"You know," Jim said, "This is all kinds of weird."

Spock hummed again, sending a pleasant shiver down Jim's spine when he tucked his nose behind Jim's ear and huffed out a hot breath.

"Seriously," Jim continued. "I don't even know you, and now we're cuddling naked. And the weirdest part is, I don't mind. It's almost like we've known each other for a long time. But that's crazy, I mean, you probably don't even remember me. Well, maybe you do, I kind of spilled plomeek soup all over your fancy suit. That's memorable enough, I guess."

There was a definite sense of amusement coming from Spock now.

"Are you laughing at me? You're totally laughing at me on the inside, aren't you?" Jim turned his head to face the Vulcan. "Seems like your head's not as scrambled as I thought, huh, big guy?"

Spock nipped at his ear.

"Ugh," Jim sighed, dropping his head back down. "Once you're back to normal, we're gonna talk about that biting thing of yours. You can't just go around doing that to strangers."

Jim felt Spock return his nose to the spot behind Jim's ear and tighten his arms around Jim's middle. Since he had been dressed before, Jim had not noticed that the inside of the cave was cooler than the outside, providing an environment that did not threaten them with heatstroke. Although he doubted Spock was in any way prone to those in the first place, even with half of his genetics being human.

Spock's body began to grow heavy against Jim's back, indicating that the Vulcan was in the process of falling asleep. Jim, too, felt sleepy, the slow breathing and the thudding of Spock's heart threatening to drag him down into a deep slumber. He did not fight the impulse for long.


Awkward naked time is awkward. There is nothing sexy about this story, it's ridiculous.