A/N: Peter's such a little bitch. ;)
Chapter 7
Jim was still fast asleep when Spock awoke the next morning. As it was a Saturday, there was no need for them to be anywhere that day. This resulted in Spock allowing himself to lay in bed and stare out of his window at the grounds as the sun rose slowly in sky. As the day progressed, the heavens transformed in colour from dusky oranges and pinks to a dull grey, clouds pervading the sky heavily.
By the time Spock's watch read 10:27, rain was pouring down outside the window and the dark purple of the clouds suggested that a thunderstorm was close on their heels. Spock was not perturbed by the thought. He had often gazed curiously at the lightning storms that sometimes struck near his home on Vulcan.
Jim did not wake until the first loud crack of thunder echoed across the sky. He sat bolt upright before becoming aware of his surroundings and falling back against the covers with a drawn out groan. He rolled over groggily and buried his head in Spock's shoulder, clearly unhappy with his newly gained consciousness.
"God," he moaned miserably into Spock's nightshirt. "I am so hungover." Spock felt him close his eyes and relax his muscles in an attempt to ease the pain that he was no doubt experiencing, as a result of his excessive alcohol intake on the previous night. Another, considerably louder thunderclap caused Kirk to squeeze his eyes shut even tighter and press his fingers to his temples.
"Oh fuck," he said, his voice hoarse. Spock, wishing to alleviate Jim's pain in anyway he could, withdrew gently from James' hold and rose from the bed, returning soon after with a glass of water.
"Here," he said putting the brim of the cup to Jim's dry, swollen lips. "Drink." Jim did so obediently, eyes still squeezed shut tight.
"Ugh," he said after a few gulps. "Got anything stronger?"
"I am not providing you with more alcohol if that is what you are suggesting James," Spock said firmly.
"Shhh," Jim said, extending his arm to rest his index finger on Spock's lips. "Too loud," he whispered, before limply dropping his hand. "If you won't get me booze," Jim said croakily, "at least get me a bucket load of some sort of pills." Spock, not having need of any medication, contained no such pills in his possession.
"Jim-" he began, attempting to inform Kirk of his inability to fulfil the request.
"In your bed side table," Jim said, cutting him off.
Puzzled, Spock looked over at the small table. It was just how he had left it. Slowly he reached over and pulled out the first little draw, which had been empty since he had taken up residence in the room. Inside now sat three small cardboard containers, all of which had information about the medicine they carried written on the side of the box. Spock fished them from the draw and looked at Jim quizzically.
"I took the initiative of putting those there last night, when I was rejecting your terrible clothes. Figured one of us would thank me later. Turns out I was right."
Jim took the boxes from Spock's hand, took one pill from each container and placed them in his mouth before chasing them down with a swig of water. He looked dejectedly at the boxes and shrugged, taking out three more and swallowing those too.
"I am not certain that is wise," Spock said as he observed Jim finish the glass of water to aid in taking the pills.
"Nothing I do is wise Spock, you ought to know that by now," Kirk replied groggily, setting the empty glass down beside the bed and handing the pills back to Spock. Spock considered what Jim had said and was inclined to agree.
"Do you wish to travel to the cafeteria in order to ingest sustenance?" Spock asked of Jim after a time.
"No," Jim said into his pillow.
"Do you not require nourishment?" Spock asked.
"Yes, I do," Jim said, still talking to the pillow.
"And I assume you are not starved enough to summon the motivation required to assist yourself in overcoming your hunger," Spock asked.
"Too many words."
"Roughly translated, I asked you if you were too lazy to get food," Spock explained, feeling unsettled at using Jim's vernacular.
"Food good. Movement bad," Jim said, not offering anything else in answer to Spock's question. Not wishing Jim to go on being hungry simply as a result of his refusal to get out of bed, Spock got to his feet and began getting dressed. He turned to see that Jim was nearing the brink of unconsciousness once more and declined to disturb him.
Quietly, he slipped from the room and made his way down to the cafeteria. There he found Uhura and Leonard. They were sitting close together, though they did not appear to be talking to one another. Nyota was wearing large sunglasses that eclipsed most of her face and her companion appeared even more haggard and surly than was usual. Spock regarded that as saying something substantial.
After obtaining two plates and filling them with an assortment of breakfast foods, he wandered over to the two.
"Hi Spock," Nyota said, her voice quiet and slightly strained as she gulped down water from a two litre bottle that was resting next to her.
"Hungover too, eh?" McCoy asked, seeming to be exhausted.
"No, alcohol does not affect Vulcans as it does humans. And regardless, I did not consume any last night," Spock explained.
"Lucky bastard," the boy grumbled. "Oh, by the way, when we got to the room last night, Jim wasn't there. Is he with you?" Leonard queried, sounding slightly worried.
"Yes," Spock confirmed, "as I did not know the number of your room and James was in no state to provide me with the information, he spent the night in my room."
"Ok then," McCoy said, his concerns quelled. The conversation had clearly come to an end, so Spock bid the two goodbye and returned to his room, bearing the tray of food.
He opened the door and found Jim half fallen from the bed. His legs were spread across the sheets and the upper half of his body was hanging from the mattress, fingers trailing the ground as he breathed deeply. Spock strode across the room and set the food down on his desk, the sound of his entrance waking Jim. The boy opened his eyes groggily and seemed to take a while to become fully conscious and responsive. When he looked over at Spock, a relaxed smile fell across his face. He still seemed to have limited motor control, however, as he remained in the seemingly uncomfortable position of being half extricated from the bed. Spock walked over to him and helped him to sit, before placing the loaded tray of food onto his lap.
"Eat," Spock commanded, taking a seat next to Jim on the bed and spearing pieces of food with a fork of his own. Jim looked slightly surprised by the direct order, unaccustomed to doing as he was told. However, James did not question the command and began to eat the food that Spock had placed in front of him.
"How do you intend to occupy yourself today?" Spock asked after the food had been entirely consumed and the plates set aside. Jim looked pointedly from Spock to the downpour outside the window.
"I gonna go to an outdoor rock concert, obviously," Jim said dryly, "perhaps go on a rollercoaster too, should help settle my stomach."
"There is no need to use sarcasm James. I was merely giving you the opportunity to inform me on your plans for the rest of the day," Spock said.
"Right, well, I have no idea what you just said. My brain is closed for business today, but I'm gonna guess it was something contrary and annoying," Jim said tiredly. "So, with that in mind, to answer your earlier question: today I plan to stay in bed and never get out, ever. And you can't make me," Jim said the last part rather fast paced and petulantly. Spock smiled lightly at the boy's expression.
"Considering my increased strength and your disadvantaged state," Spock said, "I am sure that I, in fact, could make you. If I so desired." Jim didn't look worried by the thought.
"Ok, Spock," Jim smiled, burying deeper into the bed and bringing the covers up over his head, "give it your best shot."
"You possess the maturity of a young Terran child, James Kirk," Spock said, pulling the covers away from Jim's face with ease, in order to look down into his wide eyes.
"Do not," Jim said and stuck out his tongue at Spock. Spock shook his head in mild exasperation.
"You are certainly a unique specimen of the human race," He remarked, causing Jim to laugh.
"Shut up baby, I know it," he replied confidently, his smile wide. Spock never found himself tiring of looking at Jim's smile.
The two of them spent the rest of the day in bed, periodically sleeping and conversing about varying subjects. The breakfast they had eaten had been exceedingly large and as a result, the boys did not find themselves hungry again until it was late in the afternoon and dinnertime was drawing near.
Kirk was still suffering from his hangover, having drunk quite a lot, though his pain had eased substantially over time and he longer responded in sentences devoid of conjunctive words. Soon the promise of a meal had the two out of bed and getting ready. Jim pulled his heavy denim jeans on over his boxer shorts and tugged one of Spock's sweaters over his head, the Vulcan studiously averting his gaze as Kirk changed.
They made their way down to the cafeteria slowly, Jim's movements stiff as he walked. This caused Spock to retain a firm grip on his arm, though James insisted it was unnecessary.
When they arrived at the cafeteria, soaked from the rain outside, dinner was already in full swing. Students with dripping wet hair were shaking their heads like dogs in attempts to splatter their friends. Girls sat, wringing out their clothes, creating small puddles on the floor. The weather outside seemed to have everyone in a mood of camaraderie and spirits were high as more and more people came pouring inside in a bid to escape the relentless rain. Spock and Jim made their way over to their table where most of their group was already seated.
Spock noticed that again, Nyota and Leonard were sitting next to each other in what appeared to be a comfortable silence. Most of the people present, having drunk multitudes of alcohol the night before, were abstaining from conversation. All except for Pavel, who was animatedly chattering about warp core stability to an extremely tired looking Scotty.
"Goddammit man," voiced McCoy after a while of listening to Chekov's incessant talking. "How're you not bloody hungover like the rest of us? You must've drunk almost twice as much as me and I feel like my head is about to explode right now."
"Bones, your head is always about to explode," said Hikaru tiredly, he sounded very worn out and had a beanie pulled down over his face.
"He's Russian," Scotty said, raising his head slightly, enough for Spock to see the prominent bags under his eyes. "What do ye expect?" Jim laughed hoarsely at this comment but added nothing further before returning to his food.
A student Spock recognised as the boy Peter from detention passed their table then and stopped at Leonard's shoulder.
"Wow," he said loudly, causing a number of the party to wince slightly. "This table, quiet? Why, I never. How on earth did this miracle come to pass? I don't think I can recall having ever been able to eat a meal without constantly hearing Jim Kirk's whiny, obnoxious voice."
"Oh, fuck off, Percy," Jim said, voice strained with effort.
Spock leaned in, "his name is Peter," he murmured in Kirk's ear.
"Fuck off, Peter," Jim amended, unfazed by his mistake.
"Yeah, get your ugly face to the other side of the room, where your stuck up friends who pretend to like you are," McCoy grumbled, not turning to look at the intruder.
"McCoy, isn't it?" Peter said, a smirk on his face. "Aren't you the one who has a mysterious object of unknown origin permanently lodged up your ass?" He laughed pompously at his own joke. Kirk, who looked furious, began to speak in his friend's defence.
"Now, listen here, you little bitch-" he began, before Nyota was on her feet and staring down the boy, a furious expression twisted her features, causing her to look genuinely frightening.
"How would you like my shoe lodged permanently up your ass?" she asked menacingly, her voice raised louder than Spock had ever heard the level headed girl speak before. Peter was making a visible effort to maintain his nonchalant exterior.
"Getting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you? Very brave McCoy," Peter taunted at the back of Leonard's head. Bones, Spock noticed, appeared to be supremely unperturbed by the entire situation.
"Seeing as you pose no threat to us whatsoever, except that which you pose upon our patience, talking to you requires no bravery at all, rendering your sarcastic insult both inconsequential and poorly reflective of your own intelligence," Spock pointed out evenly, looking into the eyes of the older boy and feeling a strange dislike towards him: something that Spock was aware he should have more control over.
Jim burst out into laughter at Spock's comment and while Nyota still faced Peter threateningly, the corners of her mouth had turned up slightly. Peter himself appeared to be simply bewildered by Spock's statement, evidently having not entirely grasped its meaning.
"In truth, though I have not seen his bravery tested first hand, I believe Leonard to be one of the most hardened people I have encountered and, by my estimations, it is extremely likely that you would succumb to fear before most at this table and certainly long before McCoy." Across from Spock, Bones raised his head to regard the Vulcan with an expression akin to surprise and gratitude.
Nyota looked fondly down upon McCoy's brown haired head, before shoving her palm into Peter's chest. As he stumbled backwards, shocked, she stepped forward, bearing down upon him.
"Now, listen here you little bitch," she said, repeating Jim's words. "I could stand here and tell you about how Bones is ten times the person you could ever be, or how Jim's voice isn't a fraction as whiny and obnoxious as yours, but I'm pretty sure Spock already covered all of that when he verbally kicked your ass just then. So instead I'll just say this: fuck off, before I physically kick your ass." Peter had the sense, then, to be truly worried. He cast one last accusing glare at the company before turning, rather dramatically, on his heels and marching to the other side of the room where he joined his table, looking extremely ashen faced.
Uhura looked angrily after him before sitting down and rubbing her forehead. "Great, that dick gave me a headache. I was just starting to feel better," she said rather forlornly and continued to eat her food.
"What a little bitch," Jim said, squinting his eyes in the direction Peter had walked.
"I find I must concur with that statement," Spock said coldly.
Jim looked disbelievingly at the Vulcan, but appeared to either be too tired or grateful to comment on what Spock had said. Following the altercation, everyone once again held their eyes downcast, still feeling the effects of their hangovers. Chekov, of course, being the only exception. He continued to talk merrily to members of the group, grunts and murmurs being the only response he received.
Gaila was absent from dinner that night on account of the fact that she was probably the worst affected of their party. She had drank parallel to what Jim had consumed and did not possess nearly the same level of alcohol tolerance. Nyota told Spock of how she had been extremely sick all day: weak and vomiting violently.
After witnessing the reactions of his classmates to alcohol, Spock was left to wonder why one would willingly ingest such a substance, knowing full well the horrible ramifications. When he posed the question to Jim he had simply been told, "Human's are idiots, Spock. When you drink, you borrow happiness from tomorrow," Spock had countered that Jim had not been particularly happy when he was intoxicated, "yeah well," Kirk had said, "I'm an idiot too."