I still don't own.
People keep giving me odd looks because I have a bad habit of making the faces I imagine the characters are making. You can't imagine how awkward that is.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Jim woke up not feeling fantastic. He shuffled grumpily to the shower. About ten second in he realized what was wrong, when he reached for his shampoo and it was not there. Jim slammed his face into the wall a couple times, with no real force. He was beginning to think he had a problem.
This was the first time in a week he had woken up in his own room. He'd moved his shampoo over to Spock's bathroom a few days ago, after the third morning of using Spock's shampoo. Fortunately, the Vulcan hadn't commented on how presumptuous it was for him to walk into his room with the intent of staying the night. It just sort of happened, most of the week. Jim usually stopped by after their shift to discuss work and just ended up staying. It wasn't all that weird, that they talked until they were both tired. Nor was it weird, in Jim's opinion, that they just shared the bed because they were already used to it.
Jim wasn't all that bothered by the fact that they spent most of their nights in uniform either. He wasn't that big a fan of ties. Nor was he all that sure he could focus on work when Spock was out of regulation wear.
Jim got out of his shower, having just sort of scrubbed at his hair until it was good enough because he didn't feel like trudging over to Spock's room. He felt really sluggish and a large part of him just wanted to crawl back into bed. Or rather, wanted to crawl into Spock's bed. He couldn't ever remember waking up feeling sluggish and bad after a night in Spock's room. Stupid magic Vulcan incense and stupid magic Vulcan touching and stupid Spock for being Vulcan so he had all that. Jim felt a little better for having chastised him in his mind.
His command crew were all busy, since they would be reaching the Starfleet outpost in a couple days, so Jim had to eat breakfast by himself. He smiled tightly at the crew members that waved, but he just wasn't feeling...vivacious. All Jim could feel was this weird pressure in his head, almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a headache. It was accompanied with the kind of slip-sliding sensation in his stomach that made him set aside his food, though he wasn't nauseous. He always hated that feeling, because it never made any sense to him. It was a nausea he was most used to experiencing when he hadn't eaten in far too long, the kind of sickness that wasn't sickness at all. It was psychosomatic, he figured, just his mind telling his body to reject any changes to its tenuous state of not complete disaster. For the life of him he couldn't think of why he would be feeling like that.
Jim took a deep, steadying breath as he settled into the command chair. No one seemed to notice. Jim felt weird, like his skin was freezing but the muscles just below were burning up. He felt like he was going to melt. His eyes were burning hot, dry and strange.
Jim licked his lip absently, nervously. How long had he been on the bridge? Something was telling him it was a lot longer than he thought. He looked down at the PADD he didn't remember getting, and couldn't read a single thing on it. His lungs were heavy, like some viscous, dense gas, not a liquid, was filling them. Jim stood, and immediately regretted it as the PADD slipped from his hand with a crash. It felt like people were turning to him in slow motion.
"Spock." Jim whispered, voice feeling like it was cutting his throat.
"Captain?" Spock was across the room, at his side in a second.
"I think I need Bones." Jim whispered, scared, or maybe he shouted, he didn't know. Spock nodded, gripping his arm softly. "Take the con."
"I will accompany you to sickbay." Spock challenged him easily, the look in his eyes making it clear he wasn't going to let him go.
Jim didn't shake his head, but he met Spock's eyes. "I can walk to sickbay on my own."
Spock's nostrils flared with an angry exhalation, soft. "Lieutenant Uhura. Accompany the captain."
Uhura was on her feet in seconds, placing a gentle hand on Jim's shoulder. "Yes sir."
Jim was grateful they were off the bridge when his knees gave out. He looked up blearily to see Uhura speaking into her communicator. He didn't know what she was saying, his ears flooded with silence, but the look on her face was tight and concerned. She was kneeling next to him, soft brown eyes filled with concern. One word broke through the haze, Kirk, and then darkness engulfed him.
… .. . .. …
Jim woke up to a very unusual sensation. Specifically a warm pair of lips pressed to his. Jim had half a mind to pretend he was still asleep, because he could already picture Bones' fairytale princess jokes about being woken by a kiss. The worry flaring through the completely open bond at the back of his head, and the sneaking suspicion that no one would be stupid enough to kiss him while he was dating Spock, caused him to blink his eyes open. Spock pulled back, expression tight.
"Ha!" Bones laughed from somewhere near by. "I told you."
Spock straightened up, tugging his shirt down. "Indeed. It would seem your assessment was correct. Intimate physical contact was sufficient for allowing me to draw forward the Captain's conscious."
Jim had to smirk, tiredly. "Not that I mind, but you know you could have just melded with me, right? Or was this some kind of bet?"
Spock stiffened, giving Jim a wide eyed look. "It is highly unethical to meld with one who is unconscious, especially without consent, Captain. The situation was not so drastic as to require I break this convention."
Bones smirked, shoving Spock to the side so he could run a tricorder over Jim. "It was also a bet."
Jim chuckled softly. "Awesome. From now on you have my consent Spock. You can meld with me whenever you want."
McCoy glanced up sharply, eyes a little wide. He shook his head with a smile, though, returning to his readings. Spock just stared at him, eyes wider than they should be, then they had any right to be. And Jim frowned, squinting, he could swear there was something different about him.
"What happened?" Jim rasped, and realized there was a dryness in his throat and an IV in his arm. "When did that get there?"
McCoy snorted. "About two hours after you collapsed in the hall, when we decided we had no way of knowing when you would wake up. Spock's been acting captain for six days."
"Six days!" Jim's voice creaked in protest at his higher volume. "What...what happened? Bones, what's going on?"
"Nothing too bad." He assured, injecting something into the IV to be processed into Jim's system. "You're just sick. Turns out one of the ensigns that was charged with going through your things missed decontaminating something and you caught a pretty nasty virus. We've already created a cure and a vaccine."
Jim groaned, throwing his head back a little into the pillow. "No one else was affected?"
"Lieutenant Uhura experienced elevated internal temperatures, but she recovered quickly without the aid of the Doctor." Spock informed him curtly, still watching.
Jim sighed, relieved. "How did everything go in my absence?"
"The health inspection proceeded as scheduled with minor incident. The only notable problem on the ship is the wide spread discontent at Doctor McCoy's orders that no one is to visit with you until he is assured that you have fully recuperated."
"So how did you get in here?" Jim teased. "Abuse of the Captain's powers?"
Spock raised his eyebrow in amusement. "I did no such thing."
McCoy snorted. "No, he certainly didn't. Did you know, Jim, that Starfleet says that even as CMO and in the event of a severe biological contaminate I have no legal authority to prevent a Vulcan from being with their significant other?"
Jim glanced between them in surprise, before bursting out laughing, never mind how it hurt his throat. He coughed and wheezed a bit because of it, until finally his throat stopped spasming and gave up. McCoy gave him a gruff look, but he was nice enough to provide Jim with a cup of ice chips, which was promptly taken from him when he nearly dropped it. Jim didn't really mind Spock's fingers brushing against his lips everytime he delivered an ice cube though. The approving look McCoy was giving was moderately unsettling all the same.
Jim pulled back after a bit, when his throat seemed more cooperative. "So how am I doing? Can I go back to my room?"
"Your room is still being decontaminated." McCoy smirked. "Not that that seems to be much of a problems since you've been spending so much time with Spock."
Jim didn't quite have the energy to blush. "Still? Why?"
"Being thorough." McCoy shrugged. "Ask Spock. He's the one who ordered it."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "As the contaminant was placed with Jim's items, it it not unreasonable to assume it may have spread. It is prudent to decontaminate the entirety of his room, rather then risk some item retaining the unusually resilient virus and possibly infecting other crew members."
"Mm. Very logical." Jim agreed. "I don't think anyone answered my first question..."
"You'll live." McCoy declared in much the same tone he might use to announce Jim had caught some kind of STD. "You'll be weak for a little while, but I think we can get all those tubes out of you and let you stop taking up one of my medical beds."
Jim froze, giving him a worried look. "Are you okay Bones?"
"Why wouldn't I be kid?"
"Because you just offered to release me from sickbay." Jim knew he sounded worried. "Seriously. I literally just woke up and you are letting me go? What's going on?"
McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm releasing you from sickbay, not for duty Jim. And I'm remanding you to Spock's care."
"Whoa there." Jim protested, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "I can take care of myself."
McCoy sighed, glancing at Spock, who was being patient and not protesting. "I'm going to leave you two alone for a moment and you're going to discuss this. When I get back, I expect you to have reached a reasonable conclusion, like adults. Remember Jim, you currently have an IV and a catheter. You aren't going anywhere."
Jim stuck his tongue out at him, before relaxing back onto the bed because he really was still exhausted. "Look. It isn't that I don't want to be around you, I just don't need to take up any more of your time. I'm sure you've got duties to attend to. I promise I'll just go lay down and you can wake me up when you get off shift."
Spock gave him an unimpressed look. "Jim...you have been unconscious for six days."
Jim cocked his head to the side, utterly at a loss for why that was an argument, until he felt a flair of frustration through the bond. "Oh."
"Indeed." Spock gently brushed his fingers against the back of Jim's hand, before lifting it into his own carefully.
Jim smirked. "I can't believe you're such a sap. You can't even go six days without spending some time with me?"
"You were injured and-"
"And you spent every night right here, didn't you?" Jim accused softly, looking for some understanding. "Spock, you've got to stop doing that. You don't have to be with me every free second when I'm not feeling well."
Spock stared at their hands, lips pursed ever so slightly with regret. "I was negligent in-"
Jim interrupted him again. "No. You weren't. Hell, if I'd spent two more nights in your room, we probably would have never found out about it. Don't even start protesting that I should have gone back to your room that night. I can see the look on your face, I know you want to. This...staying here with me, it's above and beyond the call of best friend."
Spock closed his eyes, almost like he was in pain. "I have already begun to suspect this."
Jim furrowed his brow. "Hey. I'm not complaining. Like I said, it's...amazing that you're here for me. You're one of the first and I'm not going to let you stop if I ever have a say in it. But I hate doing this to you. I can't help it when sheer dumb luck makes things go wrong. And it has a bad habit of happening around me. I don't want to upset you, and I don't want to think of how you must feel, sitting by my bedside while I'm completely non-responsive. I know, now, that I'd do the same in an instant. I'm not so sure Bones could convince me to leave for my shift, either. But..." Here Jim moved his hand, so his fingers were caressing Spock's gently. "It makes me feel selfish keeping you here."
Spock didn't open his eyes, but pulled Jim's hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I do not care."
Jim sighed, letting the back of his hand run over Spock's cheek and finally figuring out why Spock looked subtly different. "Spock, you've got stubble. Just a little, but enough to tell me you probably haven't gone back to your room once. What would I do if I woke up and found out you had collapsed from the strain of watching over me? How do you think that would make me feel?"
"I did not consider this." Spock nuzzled Jim's wrist. "If you desire, you may accompany me to my room and ensure I attend to my basic needs."
Jim smirked. "You're a sneaky guy, you know that?"
Spock's eyes smiled and then he set Jim's hand down and went to retrieve the doctor. The doctor who promptly locked his ass out of the room to muffled protests. McCoy glared at the door for a moment before moving to disconnect all tubes attached to his Captain. Jim wasn't particularly enthused about that. As a rule he hated having tubes in him. The only things he hated worse was having the tubes shoved in him or taken out. It also wasn't something he particularly wanted Spock to be around for, so he was grateful for Bones' interference. He was sure his dignity had been compromised enough, he didn't need him glaring at McCoy as he pulled a catheter out.
"Did he sleep at all?" Jim asked, trying to ignore McCoy working.
"He meditated." McCoy said conversationally. "It's actually the reason I made the bet with him to wake you up. I wasn't too worried about you, I figured you'd wake up soon, but he couldn't keep that shit up. Got less sense than what god gave a goose."
Jim chuckled. "Good to know my best friend cares more about my boyfriend than me."
McCoy paused. "Don't tell me you're jealous. He's the one who sat down here. Had to give him hypos...Damn hobgoblin is so skinny he could use a clothes line as an umbrella."
"Where the heck would he get a clothes line?" Jim murmured. "Does this look like backwoods Georgia?"
"Alright. All done." Bones moved to clean up, still watching Jim from the corner of his eye. "Go back to his room, get a shower, get some sleep. You aren't going to be on duty for another couple of days. I'm giving Spock tomorrow off. By which I mean if I hear he set foot on the bridge he'll be sedated for a week."
Jim laughed, moving to stand up. "You're using your doctor's voice. You must like him."
"Don't worry." McCoy smirked, heading over to help him stand. "I'm not interested in stealing your boyfriend. Might genuinely have that father-suitor talk though."
Jim wobbled a bit. "Lay off right now Bones. I'm tired. I don't feel like being teased."
… .. . .. …
For about half an hour, there was a steady stream of crew members stopping by Spock's room. Jim would have been embarrassed that everyone knew he was staying there, but it kind of seemed like a moot point. He was tired, and unclean and he wanted to cuddle up with Spock and sleep. His crew just wanted to see him though. So he obliged for a bit until Spock started standing at the door silently glaring down anyone who knocked. About ten minutes later the procession had stopped. Apparently word had gotten out that they wanted their privacy. Jim collapsed onto the couch, giving Spock a grateful smile.
"Thanks for putting up with them as long as you did."
Spock moved to stand over him. "You must rest now."
Jim nodded, raising his hands up. "Okay. I'll go get a shower."
Spock pulled him up easily. "You were exhibiting difficulty with remaining standing. Do you require assistance?"
Jim paused, leaning heavily on Spock's hands. Normally he would say no instantly, but he was having difficulty standing. And it was just Spock. Spock, who had stayed with him for six days and wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him and take care of him. Jim nodded wearily and allowed Spock to lead him to the bathroom.
Spock proceeded to stand in the bathroom with his back to Jim while he showered like an absolute gentleman, there if he needed help, but unobtrusive. Jim had to admit to himself, he probably wouldn't have been as well behaved. There was such a burning curiosity about Spock that Jim didn't want to ever take his eyes off of him. Not even just about his body or anything. He just wanted to see him in every situation. He wanted to know if Spock kept his eyes closed when he washed his hair, or the pattern he used to wash himself. Most people had a pattern. Did he start with his chest? Or did he wash his face first? Maybe his right arm? He wanted to know everything there was to know. Even the stupid stuff that didn't matter.
Spock was right there with a towel the second Jim shut off the shower, even though it had been on the sonic setting, wrapping Jim up like he were a little kid. His eyes never left Jim's.
"I'm starting to think you don't like my body." Jim teased as he was lead towards the bed.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "It is illogical to-"
Jim cut him off with a chuckle. "So that's a no, you don't like my body." He mock sobbed. "I might as well just give up on it. What does it matter if my boyfriend doesn't think I'm hot?"
Spock pushed Jim down to sit. "You are ascetically pleasing Jim. I will retrieve clothing for you to rest in."
Jim beamed, tucking the towel around himself a little more. "Do I get to watch you shower?"
"No." Spock turned around, handing him the clothing. "I will return shortly."
Jim stood up, tossing to towel sideways with very little concern. He was minutely glad that he had left some of his night clothes in Spock's room, because as fun as it was wearing his clothes, he wasn't going to wear Spock's underwear and that generally meant he probably shouldn't wear his pants either. Propriety and all that. Jim felt a curl of apprehension in the back of his head and frowned. He hadn't realized the bond was still open. It was...comforting. He liked having that channel, and hadn't been at all bothered by Spock's presence in his mind. He doubted Spock was bothered either, other wise he'd have shielded. It occurred to him, a second later, that Spock had probably been using the bond to check on him while he was on shift.
Jim felt warm and amused and incredibly affectionate just then. And there was a spike of confusion from Spock. That just made Jim more embarrassed and happy. Damn it. He tried to squash the feeling. He felt so warm, his chest filled with some strange feeling, some appreciation. Jim curled on his side, trying to reign in the feeling in his chest, but it just blossomed in him, spreading. He really, really wanted Spock there next to him now.
It was only a moderate surprise when he felt Spock kneel on the bed behind him within a minute. Apparently he decided that whatever he was getting from the bond was significantly more important than finishing his shower. He was about three minutes faster than usual. Jim sighed contently when Spock gently rubbed his shoulder, before settling behind him. Spock wrapped a warm arm around his waist, pulling him closer and nuzzling the back of his neck. Jim wanted something more, but he wasn't sure what that was.
"Rest for now." Spock murmured into his skin. "I will be here."
Jim nodded. "I know."
When he woke again, he was half wrapped around Spock. It was a brief thing, and he was out again like a light. For a guy who had been asleep for six days, he was exhausted.
It must have been several hours later, when he next woke, because he was curled up on Spock's chest, and Spock was awake, but relaxed. Spock was gently carding his fingers through his hair, one hand rubbing his back pleasantly. Jim snuggled against his chest, feeling content. Spock halted his movements and shifted like he was looking down at Jim. Jim grinned against his chest, but remained perfectly still. He wasn't getting up yet. Spock was lean and warm and pleasant. Jim was going to see about making him a permanent pillow.
"Are you well?" Spock murmured, and Jim nodded because he knew he wasn't going to get away with pretending to be asleep.
"Comfy too." He added, just in case Spock was getting any ideas about moving him.
"Good." Spock's chest rumbled as he spoke.
Jim shifted so he could look up at Spock. "What about you?"
"I am adequate." Spock's hand snaked down to squeeze Jim's hip.
Jim hummed in appreciation of the act. "Are we getting out of bed any time soon?"
"Not if you do not desire to do so." Spock let his fingers dance up, ghosting over Jim's ticklish spot for only a second. "I may request one of the crew bring us nourishment."
Jim chuckled, leaning up to kiss him. "Pretty sure this is all I need right now."
Spock pulled him a little closer, flush against him. "As you wish Jim."
Jim grinned, moving to kiss Spock's neck. "Feels good. I think I'm still a little out of it. Everything's...hazy."
"You will recover." Spock flipped them over, so he was leaning over Jim. "Inform me of what you need or desire."
"I don't know." Jim admitted.
Spock hesitated a moment, before placing a kiss on Jim's neck. He was careful as he moved down, lips ghosting over his collar bone, down his sternum, down to the ticklish spot below his ribs. Jim stared at him in wonder, reaching down to tangle his fingers in his too neat hair. Spock sucked gently at the spot and Jim groaned, throwing his head back. It was a very nice sensation. He could feel strange hesitation from the bond, but it was quashed quickly with immense curiosity. Spock rubbed his thumbs against the flesh just above Jim's pants, cataloging the gooseflesh that rose in response. Jim let out a shaky breath.
Spock's breathing was warm and steady on his stomach as he fluttered soft, curious kisses back up towards Jim's neck. Jim felt like he was melting. He also felt impatient, and pulled Spock the rest of the way back up, crushing their lips together. He let his hands wander down Spock's back, absolutely relishing the way it moved. He could feel the flesh pull and shift over tight muscles, never tense with him. He didn't know when the desire to touch started, but he was relishing it now that he was getting the chance to fulfill it.
The kiss was languid, making the bond positively glow. Spock shifted against him, pulling him up closer. Jim gasped at the sensation, grip on Spock tightening.
"More." Jim whispered nervously, stomach trembling.
Spock leaned down to his throat, teeth scraping gently over his pulse point. "What do you desire?"
Jim whimpered. "I don't know."
"I can not assist you if you do not know what you desire." Spock bit his collar, and Jim writhed in surprise.
Jim dug his nails into Spock's shoulder blades. "I...I think I want...Ah...I think you're doing great on your own."
Spock smirked, an honest to god smirk, against his skin. "I see."
"What do you want?" Jim groaned as Spock sucked on the skin at his collar, worrying the mark his teeth left with his lips.
"I do not know." Spock froze, leaning back to look Jim in the eyes. "I am well beyond my area of expertise. If you are a willing participant, however, I would be willing to conduct sufficient experiments to determine the nature of both of our desires and the most logical course of action to fulfill them."
Jim didn't know what he was about to get himself into, but he nodded eagerly all the same. Spock hesitated only a moment before leaning in to kiss him. Jim knew he should probably be a little less comfortable with the gesture. Guys didn't kiss their best friends like that. In fact, he was pretty sure only Orions kissed their best friends like that. And sure, Jim had gotten used to it because of the bond, but that just highlighted how weird it should have been. He was engaged to this man. Jim was going to have to admit to himself that he was making out with his fiance eventually.
Once Spock stopped leaving bright red hickeys on his neck.
Jim pushed at Spock's shoulder and he allowed him to roll them half way. Jim took the opportunity to bite Spock's ear. It was fun. Spock didn't seem to mind all that much, hands running up and down Jim's chest. Jim licked his way down until he could bite Spock's neck. Spock's hands scrabbled at him for a moment, perhaps out of surprise. The bite left a fierce green bruise on his neck and Jim wondered if his uniform would cover it. Spock made a rumbling sound and dug his fingers into Jim's sides.
"Spock." Jim gasped. "Spock. Spock please."
"What Jim?" Spock dragged him closer.
"I don't know." Jim whimpered, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his chest.
Spock rubbed his hands over his back, soothing him. "Relax."
Jim sighed, melting against him. He tangled their limbs as well he could, resting his head on his shoulder. His heart was throbbing in his chest, and Jim felt like he was about to enter a firefight. Spock pressed a kiss to his temple, first with his lips and then with his fingers. He wrapped himself contently around Jim, and for the life of him he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He sank back into sleep feeling blissful and alright in his skin.
… .. . .. …
"Oh my god."
Jim blinked wearily, distinctly aware of the female voice coming from a few feet away. He didn't quite feel like sitting up, still a little out of it.
"I do not wish to discuss this Nyota." Spock's voice was hard, quiet.
"I'm sure." Uhura sounded amused. "Are you going to need a dermal regenerator for that?"
"No." Spock didn't sound amused.
"Is he going to need a dermal regenerator?" She didn't sound convinced.
Spock made a noise in the back of his throat. "He will not. Is there further reason for your visit?"
"McCoy asked me to bring you some food." She sounded amused. "Should I go get anything else from him? Maybe lubricant?"
Jim felt a wave of pure embarrassment from the bond and could hear Spock growl. "Jim is a close and respected friend, Nyota. He and I are not, nor have we ever been engaged in a sexual relationship. It has been made abundantly clear that our relationship is purely platonic in nature. Your insinuations are insulting and unjust."
"Right." She didn't sound insulted, but she wasn't quite as cheery. "I apologize. Obviously it's unfair to accuse the man who left those kind of marks on you as being anything more than a friend. I know you can be incredibly dense at times for such a smart man, but I'm convinced that you're trying to lie to yourself now. You don't want to confront what ever is happening here, but you can't deny something is happening. And I'll be damned to let you used this bond as an excuse to ignore it."
Jim was sitting up straight now, his heart thundering, but he tried to keep himself calm. Tired to keep his emotions calm.
"Enough." He snarled. "Leave."
There was a long pause, and then Uhura's voice replied softly. "I care about you. You are my friends. Don't forget that."
The door slid shut and Spock marched back to the bed. He froze when he saw Jim sitting up. Jim's heart leapt into his throat. There was something about Spock standing there, in loose night pants and a short sleeved shirt, a shining green bite mark on his neck, and a tray of food in his hands that screamed of a domestic nature. Thoughts of domesticating his first officer were pushed aside, however, because they were awkward and weird. Spock set the food down with a blank look on his face.
"You were listening to my conversation with Nyota."
Jim gave him a guilty little smile. "Yeah...uh...sorry."
"There is no need to apologize. As the discussion pertained to you, you have the right to be privy to it." Spock sat gently on the edge of the bed. "I apologize if it made you uncomfortable."
Jim shook his head. "No. It's fine...Heh. I guess Chekov's finally starting to get to them."
Spock stared at him, quiet. Jim wasn't entirely sure it was the right thing to say. He wasn't really sure what he should say, if there even was a right thing to be said. But his eyes fell to the bite and he found himself reaching out. Spock hissed, ever so slightly, as Jim pressed his fingers to the wound. He could feel the ache from his own bites, the dull sting Spock left in his skin. Spock reached up to catch Jim's hand and he expected Spock to twine their fingers together, but he simply removed his hand.
"I am unsure that is wise, Captain."
Jim tensed. "Captain?"
"No matter the supposed logic of our actions, we are furthering a misunderstanding we desired to correct." Spock said softly. "I can not accept your affections, no matter how platonic they may be."
"Bullshit." Jim snarled.
"Captain-"
"Fuck you." Jim stood up, ignoring the food. "Give up. Change who you are to be what everyone expects of you. Fine. I'm done giving up on the things I want. I don't care if our friendship doesn't fit into their little neat categories and I sure as hell don't care if they don't understand us. I like what we have, even if it doesn't make sense to me. And you can't tell me that you don't. I know better. I can feel how much this, how much us, means to you. So if you want to spend the next three weeks staying away from me, distancing yourself so everyone believes our 'relationship' is over, than fine. But then what? What do you do afterwords? Only spend time with me in the rec room and during our shifts? Screw that. We'll find some other way to make our relationship clear, but I won't let them change what we have here. I refuse to."
Spock stood slowly, eyes locked on him. "If we change nothing about our interactions, we will be incapable of convincing others of the cessation of our supposed romantic relationship."
"We're geniuses." Jim challenged. "We'll figure something out."
Spock exhaled sharply, terse. "The statistical likelihood-"
"Statistics! What possible fucking statistics could you even have for this situation? I don't care about the statistics." Jim snarled. "They're bull and you know it."
"Captain-"
"Call me that again. I dare you." Jim stepped into his space, eyes narrowed.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You are behaving illogically."
He didn't call him Captain though. Jim surged forward, crashing his lips into Spock's. Spock pushed back, walking Jim to the wall and pinning him there. He could feel frustration and confusion and anger through the bond. He understood that completely. Spock was no longer being a gentleman, digging his fingers into Jim's hips and lifting him. Jim wrapped his legs around his torso, because it reduced the ungodly pressure from Spock's hands. He gasped when Spock slid his hands down his legs, pressing him harder to the wall to keep him up. Definitely not a gentleman as he pressed his tongue into Jim's mouth. Jim was never one to sit idle though, pulling on Spock's hair with one hand to better angle his mouth.
Jim's other hand was roving over Spock's chest and shoulder and he wasn't sure if he was looking for purchase or not. He managed to get the nightshirt Spock had pulled on before answering the door hiked up fairly well though. Spock shrugged out of it one arm at a time, before finally breaking the kiss so Jim could pull it over his head. Spock leaned back in panting, and Jim tossed his head to remove the sweat dripping to his eyes. Spock brushed his mouth over Jim's jaw, rubbing their temples together and moving down to mouth at his shoulder. Jim gasped against his temple, tangled his fingers in his hair and arched himself so their chests were pressed together. Spock's heart in his side thundered and Jim could feel it, like butterfly wings in his stomach.
"Spock." Jim pleaded. "Spock please. Please. I want this."
He could feel Spock's Adam's apple bob against the skin of his shoulder. "I do not know what you are asking of me."
Jim groaned. "Fuck. I don't know either. I just...Fuck."
Spock leaned back to look at him. "Our actions are illogical Jim."
"Oh, so it's Jim now? Ah!" Jim squirmed when Spock bit him in reprimand. "Is it illogical if we're doing something we like?"
"We are not in an intimate, physical relationship."
Jim shrugged. "Well...if you're going by the paperwork...Fuck! Don't bite me so hard!"
Spock leaned back, licking his lips to clear Jim's sweat from them. "Do not present illogical arguments. The paperwork was created to further a lie. We are not in an intimate, physical relationship and the bond no longer requires physical contact to satiate your lack of telepathic capabilities. Nor are we attempting to present such a relationship for the benefit of either party at this juncture. To engage in behavior reserved exclusively for intimate relations is illogical. To desire such contact is illogical."
Jim huffed and folded his arms over his chest, relaxing back against the wall, which he only just realized was colder than he'd like. "Why is it reserved for intimate relations? It's not like it has to mean something like that. It didn't when we were just keeping the bond happy, why should it now?"
"Because our actions were done out of necessity." Spock furrowed his brow a little. "It is illogical to perform such actions for the sake of pleasure."
Jim shivered and Spock pulled him back from the wall, lacing his hands under him to offer support. Jim threw his arms around his neck, so he didn't lean back and topple over.
"Why?" Jim pressed. "Give me one good reason why. If you say the only reason to do something like this is to express gratitude and affection in a relationship, then you've lost. Because the motivation is reassurance of some kind of bond and its not about pleasure."
"Jim-"
"And if we happen to derive pleasure from knowing a close friend cares, then that's only logical." He locked his fingers behind Spock's head. "You wouldn't be in a friendship that was not beneficial and enjoyable. Not a friendship. It would be an illogical thing to do."
"Jim..." Spock's tone darkened, hardened.
He slid Jim's legs down, so he was standing. "If it already doesn't have to mean something intimate then why should be find a different way to express our regard for each other?"
"Jim!" Spock rumbled, pulling him flush against him. "I-"
Jim steamrolled right over him. "So why does it have to be a strictly intimate gesture?"
"Because I wish it to be!" Spock snapped.
Jim froze, eyes widening. "I...I-"
Spock surged forward, kissing him deeply, before yanking himself back with a low growl. "I do not desire to engage in these acts with you Jim, but I am incapable of denying myself the pleasure I derive from your touch. It is illogical and shameful that I lack the control to cease these activities at once." He punctuated his sentences with swift, bruising kisses. "I find myself experiencing the human sensation of craving your lips against mind and the insistent press of your mind against every one of my barriers. I allow myself to monopolize your affections in an unhealthy and unacceptable way. I have found myself developing a dependency on these disgraceful, flagrant displays. I have experienced difficulty in meditating and in controlling my emotions in their absence."
"Withdrawal." Jim provided helpfully, a little overwhelmed.
Spock growled against his lips. "To behave in such a disreputable manner is licentious. No matter our own causation, the act itself is intimate in nature. There are acts suitable for the expression of affection between friends. If our actions were fulled only by this, if our pleasure derived only by confirmation of mutual friendship then these acts would prove enough."
Jim growled right back, nipping at Spock's lips. "It's friendly. Just because the thought of being friendly makes you uncomfortable doesn't mean anything."
"And yet you expressed difficulty the first time you kissed me because it was not a friendly gesture." Spock argued. "It was a gesture used to cultivate intimacy and physical pleasure."
Jim snarled, yanking himself out of Spock's arms entirely and folding his arms over his chest. "That's not the point! It isn't the same thing. What do you want me to do to prove that?"
Spock raised a dangerous eyebrow, locking his hands at his back, voice frigged. "I believe the Terran phrase is 'blow me'."
Jim's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
Spock's eyes flicked over Jim, appraising. "Is this not just another expression of affection, fondness, and gratitude?"
"That's different!" Jim bellowed.
"Why?" Spock challenged, voice still cool and revealing nothing, just as the bond was silent, shielded.
"That...you..." Jim laughed, on the verge of hysterics. "I'm not going to have sex with you! I don't fuck friends."
"Then do not kiss me."
"Oh, so now we're negotiating?"
"I am attempting to explain to you what you will not accept with reason alone." Spock didn't look all too happy to be doing it. "Our actions have been intimate in nature."
Jim laughed, scrubbing at his face. "I guess that's it."
He turned on his heel, heading to Spock's dresser to snag one of the black undershirts he kept there, a clean one. Spock furrowed his brow slightly, watching Jim with confusion. Jim was biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from speaking. Spock didn't say anything as Jim stormed out of the room. He stared after the door a moment before turning away. The tray of food sat on his bed mocking him. He backhanded it into the wall.
… .. . .. …
"Kirk!" Sulu rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Jim's torso to keep him from falling. "Captain, what are you doing?"
Jim tried to push himself up the wall, but ended up having to rely on Sulu instead. "I'm heading to sickbay."
Sulu glanced over at Chekov, who moved to support Jim from his other side. "Vhy are you heading to sickbay?"
"Because my room is in lock down." Jim growled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
They exchanged another glance across Jim's chest. "Weren't you...ah...staying with Spock?"
Jim tensed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"But-" Chekov started.
"Look." Jim snarled. "Either leave it alone or let me walk to sickbay on my own."
There was a terse moment of silence before they started walking. Jim was unsteady on his feet, the exhaustion coming back like a tidal wave. He felt cold, in the normal temperature of the ship, wrong. McCoy glanced up from whatever he was doing when they entered the room, eyes instantly widening. He was by Jim with a tricorder in a second, but it didn't tell him anything useful that he didn't already know. Jim felt like his vision was swimming and hardly noticed Sulu straighten in alarm and start tugging Chekov out of the room.
"What happened?" McCoy directed him to a bed. "Jim, what happened?"
"I..." Jim choked. "It doesn't matter. Can I stay here?"
"Jim..." McCoy's voice was soft. "Jim, you're crying."
"It's nothing." Jim gulped, wiping at his eyes. "Please. Please just let me stay here."
"Sure kid." McCoy felt guilty as all hell. "I'll...Jim...what the hell it that?"
He reached over, tugging down the collar of Jim's shirt and his eyes widened with horror. Jim blushed, curling in on himself and shaking his head. So Bones didn't ask, just grabbed a dermal regenerator and helped pull off his shirt. Jim hadn't gotten a look at his chest, but by the tight lipped stare, he suspected that was a good thing. McCoy left briefly, before returning with a damp wash cloth. Jim couldn't help but notice that it came back from each painful swipe a little more reddish-brown. He hadn't seen any blood before, so he supposed a couple must have ripped open when he was pushing at them when he first started towards sickbay.
"Say the word and he's dead." McCoy whispered, voice tight.
Jim shook his head. "No."
Bones didn't press the issue, instead working to heal the damage he found. And if Jim just happened to cover the mark on his collarbone with his hand and not remove it when the rest of the wounds were healed, well, McCoy didn't press that issue either. He eyed the bruises critically for a moment, but made no effort to deal with them. He left him in a private bed to sleep, collecting a few medical devices and slinking out of sickbay silently.
A few minutes later he was chiming at Spock's door. There was absolutely no wait; Spock flung the door open, tense. McCoy felt guilty, at the helpless look Spock momentarily let slip. He stepped aside silently to let him in. McCoy eyed the angry green bite on his neck as he did, looking him over for any other signs of injury or discomfort. Spock hadn't even put a shirt back on yet.
"After I patched Jim up, I figured you might need a dermal regenerator too." McCoy explained. "He didn't do as much damage as I would have figured."
Spock stiffened, eyes widening, lips pressed in a tight line. "Explain."
"He was bleeding in a few places." McCoy surveyed the sudden shut down of all expression. "I doubt it's entirely your fault...If he wanted I would have been down here to poison your ass. But no, he's being quiet about it. I supposed I should offer you the same."
Spock glanced sideways, and McCoy narrowed his eyes, wondering at his stiff, awkward way of shifting. "Do not feign propriety on my behalf doctor."
McCoy snarled. "Damn you! Don't you start with this like Jim and pretend you don't have friends on this ship."
His shoulders tensed. "I did not mean to accuse you of such."
"I don't supposed you have any more light to shine on this?" McCoy watched him move to remain facing him. "Didn't think so. If there's nothing else to say here, then I guess I'll leave."
"Doctor." Spock tensed. "I...would be remiss if I allowed you to leave without attending my wounds."
"Wounds?"
Spock hesitated, before turning. McCoy grit his teeth, eyes narrowing at the long, bloody gashes in his back. He wasn't so naïve not to recognize them for what they were, but he wondered how long it had taken them to bleed, because Jim's fingers had been completely free of any traces of green. McCoy cleaned his shoulders off, relieved to see the scratches weren't all that deep. They looked like they had been agitated to the point of bleeding, most likely by slumping against the wall. McCoy wasn't going to accuse him of slumping at this point.
"So will you tell me what happened? Not to get these. I don't think I want to know about that." McCoy took his time, stalling in the hope that Spock might actually start talking.
"I do not wish to discuss it."
"What do you wish to discuss?" McCoy snorted.
Spock shifted awkwardly. "Could you convey an expression of regret and apology to Nyota?"
"Not if you aren't going to tell me what I'm apologizing on your behalf for. I'm a doctor, not a candy-gram."
Spock was silent long enough he actually thought he had decided against it. "I expressed...displeasure with her assessment of my relationship with the Captain."
McCoy paused. "And what would that be?"
"That is not necessary information."
Gears were turning though. "She saw the bite mark when she brought the food I asked her to. Knowing her, she wanted to be positively sure...and when it turned out that you two aren't in a romantic relationship, she got upset."
"It would seem..." Spock hesitated. "You are at times capable of not entirely erroneous deductions doctor."
McCoy snorted. "Jim heard and got antsy?"
"No." Spock didn't elaborate, so for the second time McCoy decided not pressing the issue would be most beneficial at the moment.
He collected his gear when he was finished, not even having considered fixing the bite mark. "You already know this, but I'm going to remind you anyway. You're off work tomorrow. Don't even think about reporting to the bridge." McCoy hesitated, before nodding firmly to him. "We don't talk much, but I'm still here if that's what you need. Friend to friend confidentiality."
"Thank you...Leonard."
… .. . .. …
"Rise and shine Jimmy boy." Bones beamed at him in a way that really wasn't fair.
"Leave me alone." Jim groaned. "I'm sick."
"Not anymore you aren't." He chuckled, yanking the blanket off of him. "You're restricted because of the exhaustion, not because you're sick. Because we all know you'd spend three days awake on the bridge if you could right after every crisis."
Jim made a vaguely rude gesture as he struggled up. He rubbed at his face a bit, frowning at the slight roughness of his skin. He was going to need to do some manicuring in a week or he'd start to get scruffy. A shower and some lotion would be a big help. He did feel better. Significantly better than when he had lost consciousness, and marginally better than the day before. Well, he thought grimly, better except for the twisting guilt and disgruntlement that made itself known now that he was fully awake.
"Do you think I could get back on the bridge tomorrow?" Jim asked, already braced for the glare, and boy did he get it. "Just light duty Bones. Sp-Uhura will be there to keep an eye on me."
Bones' eyes tightened at the aborted use of the commander's name. "We'll see how you're feeling at the end of the day."
Jim beamed, before forcing himself to his feet. "Hey Bones, I need a couple things, and then I'm going to take my breakfast in the rec room, is that okay?"
Bones eyed him for a moment. "What things?"
"Just some paper and a pen." Jim waved him off.
"Why not used a PADD?" McCoy frowned. "What could you possibly need that for?"
Jim shrugged. "Just a hobby from the academy. You don't want me trying to find another way to entertain myself for the day, do you? Because I'm sure I could think of something...or I could always ask Scotty for ideas."
He blanched. Nothing Jim could do with a piece of paper could possible be that bad. He ordered Jim to stay put while he replicated the items, to ensure that none of them could be fashioned into a weapon. Not that Jim couldn't get his hands on a weapon, but somehow it seemed more likely that he would just make on out of the nearest items. Jim thanked him just a little too enthusiastically and asked him to send Rand over with something edible when she got the chance. The fact that he was letting McCoy handle his dietary needs was nothing less than terrifying. That had to be at least a yellow alert.
Rand also took the opportunity to immediately tell McCoy that Jim hadn't protested about the vegan meal he had been give, tucking in and focusing intently on his papers.
So probably closer to a red alert.
And then he was getting reports that Spock wasn't leaving his room or accepting food from yeomen so he had to just shake his head and sigh. He'd go hypo him after his shift. Because he could give him that long, at least, as a courtesy. And then he'd give them both hell for being such stubborn, stupid, baffling idiots. But he was still hedging his bets and believing Jim and Spock would just have to work this out on their own, because they couldn't stay mad at each other that long.
… .. . .. …
"Uhura, please!" Jim let just the slightest bit of whine tinge his voice.
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "Captain. I'm working."
"I know." Jim huffed. "That's the problem. I'm not allowed on the bridge, and I really need you here right now."
She pursed her lips, considering it. "What could possibly be so important that you want me to leave my post, Captain?"
There was a long hesitation, before Jim came back with a slightly conspiratorially tone. "My relationship with Spock?"
She was on her feet, directing her replacement to take over immediately. "I'll be there in five minutes."
Uhura set foot in the deserted rec room 4.58 minutes later. Jim beamed at her, before waving her over with a suspicious look. He peered around for a little, before placing his communicator on the table. He watched her expectantly until Uhura set her own next to his. He seemed to relax immensely, and she wondered just what it was he wanted to discuss with her. Her eyes scanned over the table, noticing the piles of crumpled paper and ink stains. She assumed they were from the same pen Jim was chewing absently at. He reached up and rubbed his lips, smearing a blot of ink at the corner of his mouth.
"I need you to translate something for me." Jim said seriously.
Uhura cocked an eyebrow. "That was worth dragging me down before my shift was over?"
"Your shift ends the same time as Bones'." Jim shrugged, try to act casual. "I kind of want to get a jump on this, before he can banish me back to sickbay."
She considered it for a moment, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table. "Is what's going on between you and Spock my fault?"
Jim shook his head immediately. "No. It's our own damn fault."
"What does this translation have to do with you and Spock?" She pressed. "Did he say something?"
"No. I..." He hesitated, sure he didn't want to tell her the entire true story. "I saw it somewhere and I was curious. I...well, something Sulu said actually made me kind of realize that I haven't been trying to accommodate him at all, so I'm a shitty friend. This...text? Just made me think about it. And then with everything, well...I decided...that is, I was sort of hoping you would agree to try to teach me Vulcan."
Uhura straightened in her seat, eyes brightening just a little. "If that's all, then sure. I might not have gotten along with you, but I remember how fast you picked up languages at the Academy."
Jim gave a grimacing smile. "Yeah. Well, I remember enough to get myself slapped most of the time."
She smirked, clearly remembering those incidents fondly. "Now I'm really curious though. What Vulcan text did you see?"
Jim passed her a messy, ink stained paper covered in a multitude of swirls. "I think I wrote that down right, but I could be way off. It's been a little while since I looked at it."
Uhura whistled lowly. "I always was a little impressed by the way you could snap an image of some text in your head and then copy it without being able to write a word in the language." Jim flushed at the praise. "Well, lets see what you have here."
She glanced over it a moment before rolling her eyes and flipping the paper over, flattening it on the table so the words showed through the paper clearly. Jim shrugged at her inquisitive look, but wasn't all that surprised that it had been backwards. After all, it had sort of been written that way. Her brow furrowed at the sight in front of her and she leaned closer to the paper, scowling. Jim played idly with his glasses, which had mysteriously shown up in sickbay a few days ago apparently.
"Where did you even see this?" Uhura finally leaned back, misgivings clear on her face.
Jim flushed, lying through his teeth. "I just saw it in a book."
"In a mirror?" She scoffed. "Right. If you don't want to tell me, than fine."
Jim straightened in apprehension at the predatory smile on her face. "What? What is it?"
Uhura leaned back, smugness radiating from her as she folded her arms over her chest. "Well for starters, it's Pre-Surakian. If nothing else you can tell because of how flowery it is."
"Flowery?" He gulped, mouth dry.
"Quite. But that's pretty typical of very old Vulcan poetry." Here she leaned forwards a little, small smile broadening. "Especially love poems."
Jim flushed, letting that bang around in his head a little. "Oh."
Uhura nodded, gesturing to the paper flippantly. "That is a very old love poem, half religious practically. It talks about love as a transcending thing, more than just an emotion. Before Surakian times, it wouldn't have been much different than human wedding vows. It's...deep."
Jim felt like his brain had shut off, but something caught well enough he could force a sentence out. "All that in those few lines?"
It was her turn to blush. "Well, no, but I recognize the poem and I know how it ends."
Jim send her a sidelong look, because it put off having to think about her previous statement. "And just how and why were you reading sappy old Vulcan poetry?"
Uhura narrowed her eyes. "While they pride themselves on logic, Vulcan's aren't ashamed of their art. You could find it in several poetry books."
Jim grinned. "You were totally reading this mush and swooning over Commander Spock when you were at the academy."
She had to smile, in spite of herself. "Yeah, well, clearly I was projecting the image of some romantic, emotional Vulcan archetype that doesn't exist anymore. Not even in private. Can you imagine that? Spock being a romantic?"
Jim flushed, glancing down at the paper guiltily. "No. That'd be weird."
He wasn't sure why she let that go, but he was grateful that she did. Uhura spent the next few hours, until her lunch, chatting amicably with him and teaching him a few 'important' Vulcan phrases. She did inform him curtly that she wasn't going to spend the second half of her shift with him, no matter how much he begged and pleaded. He reasoned that that was okay, because now he was really hoping to set things right. He'd been a dick. And while that wasn't really that unusual for him, he didn't have to be that guy anymore.
And he finally mustered up the self-decency to admit that maybe there was something weird about their making out. Now he was fairly positive of it.
He still took as long as he possibly could with eating and dawdled around talking with his crew more than strictly necessary. Somehow, even with this revelation, and the admission that he really had no right to be mad at Spock for once again pointing out everything Jim did that was illogical, irresponsible, or otherwise just not up to par, he didn't really want to go admit that.
He spent about an hour drafting an apology before he realized that the second he walked through that door he was in the dark and couldn't predict his own actions, let alone Spock's.
He was so utterly screwed and he sincerely hoped that Spock would decide Jim was just too illogical to stay mad at and forgive him. He was getting lonely in his head and wanted the indulgent little smile in his eyes and the soft, calm feel of his mind, intrinsically linked to his katra, always brushing against his own. Maybe that was a little sappy. But Jim was also just barely brave enough to allow the mutinous parts of his brain to admit that maybe he wouldn't be all that unhappy if Spock was willing to forgive him with a kiss, whatever the hell it meant between them now.
The first step to that, however, was actually mustering up enough courage to walk himself over there and ask Spock to be willing to see him and listen to a wild and completely improvised apology.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Did you spot the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference? It's okay if you didn't.
Next chapter is probably going to be the last, unless I decide on an epilogue. I'm not a big fan of those though...
