Chapter 12

Spock was not one for public displays of affection, a fact which made his sudden confession all the more special. Yet, despite his reservations, he openly held Jim's hand whenever it was presented to him and even went as far as leave a small kiss on his new boyfriend's forehead each morning as they parted at Jim's locker. Spock also now drove Jim to school each morning, insisting it would rain. When Jim questioned his behavior he discovered that Spock was quite the romantic.

"Why is it that every time you offer me a ride it's going to rain?"

"I require an excuse to spend more time alone with you."

"Spock, you never need an excuse."

The next few weeks were blissful when he was with Spock. Just the thought of him made living with Frank more bearable. Spock treated him with care and love, he paid attention to Jim and never overlooked him as his mother did or abused him as Frank did. With Spock, Jim was no longer alone.

Since Winona had left for her new ship, Frank had taken to throwing empty beer bottles at Jim's head when he was angry—which was most of the time—but he had yet to follow Jim upstairs again. Still as long as Jim had Spock none of it mattered, even the taunts of the ignorant students at school who called them fags and sinners. Jim had had to help Monty restrain Pavel one Wednesday after a particularly rude student jeered at Jim just before history class. Pavel was small, but he was brave and fiercely loyal. Despite any obstacles, being with Spock made Jim absurdly happy and even Spock let a few more smiles slip past his lips once they started dating.

Jim's happiness, however, did not improve his health. As Spock was declared cancer-free, and continued to be, Jim was getting sicker by the day. It was a gradual change: difficulty climbing stairs, fatiguing easily, and breathlessness when walking, but to Jim it felt as if he went from relatively active youth to sickly old man overnight. He tried to pass it off on the cold weather or the stress of his mother leaving him alone on Christmas, but he knew he had a real problem when he found himself around the corner from the astronomy classroom gasping for air.

"Jim?" It was Spock who found him leaning against the wall for support, sweat on his brow, breathing as if he had just run a mile.

"Spock," he gave his boyfriend a small smile, "I'll be right there."

Spock closed the distance between them in a few strides. "You should go to the nurse," he said, relieving Jim of his book bag before he could protest.

"No, no…just need to…catch my breath."

"You need to lie down and see a medical professional." Jim straightened up as he caught his breath.

"That old hag probably isn't even a real nurse. I'll call McCoy when I get home." Spock decided it was best not to argue.

"But can you make it through the day? If you refuse to see the nurse you should at least go home and rest." Jim privately agreed, but the idea of going home early wasn't appealing. He couldn't be sure that Frank would be unconscious until at least three, three-thirty.

"You can go to my house, no one is home." Spock, the mind reader. Over the past four weeks since they had started dating Jim had begun to slowly open up about Frank, and Spock was well are of the brute's heavy drinking.

Jim nodded. "Okay, but we can't sneak out with me stopping every two feet and you shouldn't ruin your record just for me; let's wait until lunch." Reluctantly Spock agreed, but he hovered protectively beside Jim as they walked to class. They were both late that day.

Spock unlocked his front door and followed Jim to the couch. His boyfriend (he illogically loved using that word) was far too proud to ask for help, and Spock did his best not to hover too closely. It was disconcerting to watch Jim's slow deterioration. He had seen old footage of Jim and his friends preparing for high school lacrosse tryouts the summer before freshmen year. That Jim had run, jumped, and pushed past peers much larger than he was, all while wearing a cocky smirk. The Jim before him now couldn't walk down the hallway without having to stop and rest every few feet. Ignoring his own fears, Spock retrieved a spare pillow and blanket from the guest bedroom.

"Do you want something to eat? I can heat up the leftover pasta from last night."

Jim shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. You should eat before you go, though. Wasn't M'Benga going on about keeping up your immune system?" Spock raised an eyebrow, which brought a smile to Jim's lips.

"I am not the one currently immobile on my boyfriend's sofa."

"Aw, that's a low blow, Spock. I just don't want you to get sick."

Spock's brown eyes widened. "I didn't mean to insult you, I was simply making an observation-"

Jim raised a hand. "I know, I know. I've become quite fluent in Spockish, if you haven't noticed. I'm not angry and I promise I'll eat later."

Spock nodded, looking relieved, and leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on Jim's forehead. He ran his fingers over Jim's upturned palm, their own private gesture of affection, before turning to leave.

"Do not forget to make an appointment with Dr. McCoy." Jim's affectionately sarcastic "Yes, Mother" followed Spock as he shut the door.

Until Jim came along, Spock had been content. He excelled academically and with music. While he did not always see eye-to-eye with his father, particularly over his future (Spock wanted to go into the sciences, specifically astronomy, while his father wanted him to study politics and international relations as he himself had), he felt he had a good life. Then he met Jim. Cancer was a setback in Spock's plans, but it had brought them together, and having Jim in his life was worth all the setbacks in the world. Jim made him happy, truly happy, not just content. Jim was free and alive and he wasn't put off by Spock's stoic reserve. Now that he had Jim, Spock refused to let him slip away.