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The ship’s artificial gravity systems gives out the third time that week and Leonard curses as he realizes he’s suddenly floating several inches above his chair. The PADD that he was working on floats lazily in the direction of the door and he unceremoniously windmills his arms and snatches the PADD before it can get too far.
“Damn Romulans,” Leonard grumbles. “Can’t they shoot at somebody else for once?” According to Jim, Scotty has been doing everything he can to get the gravity systems working again, but they are being temperamental and finicky.
Leonard tries to continue his work but it’s very hard to concentrate when suddenly he can't tell what’s ground and what’s ceiling. He’s about ready to give up when the door opens and Spock drifts serenely into his office.
“Doctor, I must speak to you about our upcoming science expedition on Cassius III,” Spock says. His hair, normally flawless, is floating in a dark halo around his head. Spock bobs in place, hands clasped behind his back like always. Even upside-down, Leonard can tell that this is all too much.
Spock’s only reaction is to raise an eyebrow when Leonard begins to laugh.
“I have observed that the absence of gravity seems to increase the incidence of human frivolity,” Spock says, as he watches Leonard. “In fact, I recently passed a nurse who had taken it upon himself to begin practicing some form of gymnastics that involved wheeling around the sickbay.”
This, if possible, makes Leonard laugh even more. He begins to rotate in midair with the force of it, and since his eyes are shut, he doesn’t realize this until he actually collides with Spock.
Spock’s hands immediately shoot out and grip his hips to steady them both. It almost works, but then Leonard realizes their heads are dangerously close to hitting the corner of his desk and he kicks off the wall a bit to steer them away. He misjudges the force of his kick and they are sent spinning even more, until Leonard has to close his eyes, stomach sick with the sight of his office careening haphazardly around them. He finds himself focusing on the feeling of Spock’s warm, steady hands.
“Doctor, open your eyes,” Spock says softly, and Leonard can tell from his voice that he’s close.
“No way, Spock,” Leonard says, eyes still tightly shut. “I, unlike you, know what vomit in zero gravity looks like, and trust me, it isn’t a pretty sight.”
“Leonard,” Spock says again, and the use of his first name gives him pause. “We have stopped spinning.”
He opens his eyes cautiously, and finds that Spock is right. They’re relatively motionless again, drifting vaguely upwards at a leisurely pace that’s much more bearable than the chaotic spinning from before. The ceiling brushes gently against his back before Spock’s body makes contact with him, pushing them both into the ceiling.
Leonard finds his face buried into Spock’s shoulder, and the only good thing about this is that Spock can’t see his face as he struggles to regain his composure.
“You are shaking, Doctor,” Spock says, and there is something that sounds vaguely like concern in his voice. Leonard can’t tell for sure, is too busy trying to stifle the nausea. Interpreting the subtle slips of emotion from their resident half-Vulcan usually requires all of his mental faculties, and he’s lucky if he has any right at this moment.
“I hate space. Humans weren’t meant to survive in zero gravity. I can just feel my bones losing density by the second.” Leonard does his best to keep his voice from shaking but it doesn’t completely work. He’s mortified that Spock, of all people, is the one to see him lose control like this.
“Engineer Scott has been able to identify the source of the gravity flux. I have high expectations that the problem will be resolved in a matter of days,” Spock says. Leonard blinks. It’s almost like Spock is trying to comfort him, in that strange, Vulcan way of his.
And, despite himself, Leonard finds it all oddly reassuring, Spock’s complete faith that everything will resolve itself and be orderly once more. He feels himself stop shaking, and at the same time he becomes aware of how Spock’s hands on his hips are still keeping them both steady, how their legs are slightly tangling with each other in the absence of gravity.
And then Leonard begins to feel heavy again. Slowly, they begin to drift down towards the floor as the artificial gravity reasserts itself. The two of them disentangle, settling onto their feet once more. Leonard feels slightly unsteady, and he leans back against the wall and takes a deep breath. Even without looking, he can feel Spock’s eyes on him.
Leonard clears his throat and finally looks Spock in the eye. “You wanted to talk to me about Cassius III, right?”
“I believe it can wait. I must talk to Engineer Scott about the gravity systems,” Spock says, seeming to speak faster than usual as well. One hand goes up to pat down his hair and it’s the first time Leonard has ever seen Spock look self-conscious. The sight of it leaves Leonard dumbstruck for a good minute after Spock has left his office, and he wonders if he had imagined the slight green flush on Spock’s cheeks.
-
Leonard bites back a moan when Spock finally manages to stick his hands up his shirt despite Leonard’s defensive flailing. Their science expedition to Cassius III has taken an unfavorable turn with a sudden, brutal ice storm, and Leonard doesn’t like it.
“Good God, Spock, you can’t just stick your hands up my shirt!” Leonard protests, but he makes no move to push Spock away. Heaven help him, but it’s hard to argue when Spock’s warm hands are heating him up faster than he thought was possible.
“It is logical to conserve heat,” Spock says again, just like he had said earlier when he first suggested using his own body heat to warm up Leonard. Outside the cave they took shelter in, a cold wind howls.
“I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Leonard grumbles, even though the thought of it oddly makes him want to tear something in half. Obviously, the cold has turned his brain into icicles.
“This is, in fact, the first time I have ever said that at all,” Spock replies. Leonard finds himself strangely touched. Not sure what to say, he settles for snorting loudly.
“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Leonard tells him, and then he’s clenching his teeth because a particularly brutal cold wind chooses then to howl through their little cave, making him shiver uncontrollably. He feels Spock come closer until he’s pressed against his back, his hands shifting so that they’re curled around Leonard’s torso. Distantly, Leonard realizes that one of Spock’s hands is resting protectively over where his heart would be, if he were a Vulcan.
Leonard closes his eyes and lets the warmth suffuse over him.
“Try to get some sleep, Doctor,” Spock says softly. “It will be a few hours before the Enterprise can penetrate the storm and beam us up safely.”
Leonard thinks that it would be a miracle if he managed to fall asleep like this, but he must have managed it somehow, because he finds himself dreaming. In it, he’s on his back, propped up on his elbows. Spock is on his knees in front of him, inexplicably shirtless. Spock comes closer, extending his first two fingers towards him. He takes one of Leonard’s hands and begins to run his own fingers over Leonard’s fingers, over his knuckles, over the vulnerable inside of his wrist.
Even in his dream, Leonard is confused at what is happening, and why Spock is doing this. It seems so bizarre and incomprehensible. And then he realizes that Spock is breathing heavily, almost panting, and that his eyes are dark with arousal. One of Spock’s fingernails briefly scrape over one of his knuckles, like teeth pulling at lips in a kiss, and Leonard finds himself gasping.
The dream ends abruptly. Leonard falls into a deep sleep after that. It’s only later that he learns that Spock had been unintentionally projecting his own dream onto Leonard through touch telepathy. The dream ended when Spock pulled away slightly in his sleep, severing the connection.
As it is, in the morning, when they are found by the rescue party, the dream is only a hazy half-memory for Leonard, and he spends the next few weeks wondering why Spock is suddenly avoiding him.
-
“I always said the two of you bickered like an old married couple. But here’s the proof!” Jim looks so pleased that Leonard is ready to throttle him, and from the way Spock is glaring, he guesses he feels the same way.
“Jim, this is ridiculous. Tell the Saeiens that Spock and I are not married,” Leonard says, nearly shouting.
“They saw you and Spock talking,” Jim tells him. “Actually, ‘talking’ is too dignified a term for what you were doing. I’d say ‘squabbling’ is much better. And in the Saeien culture, they consider squabbling to be something reserved between married couples. In fact, you basically scandalized half the royal council with your ‘public show of affection’ and they think you’re all newlyweds who can’t control themselves. You’re lucky they’re giving you your own room and excusing you from the rest of the day’s activities instead of throwing us off their planet.”
Leonard grinds his teeth. He turns to Spock. “Why haven’t you said anything yet?”
“I believe we should avoid shocking the royal council any further,” Spock answers.
“You can’t honestly be agreeing with this!” Leonard says.
“Doctor, if you could only keep your rampant emotions at bay, you would realize that cooperating with the Saeiens is in the best interests of the Enterprise’s diplomatic mission.”
“And we cooperate by lying to them about how we’re newlyweds? I thought Vulcans didn’t lie,” Leonard argues, but he already felt like he was fighting a losing battle.
Spock finally turns to him. It is the first time he has made direct eye contact with Leonard since that incident in the cave on Cassius III. “As always, your knowledge of what Vulcans do or do not do is regrettably flawed, Doctor.”
“Wow, you two, squabbling again already? I’m still standing right here!” Jim jokes, clapping Spock and Leonard on their shoulders. “I’ll come by and check up on you when we’re done with all the meetings.” Jim catches sight of their faces and he immediately backs away. “Or not?” Jim hurries away, leaving them alone, in their nice, cozy little private room.
To be fair, it’s a pretty nice room. It’s got a gorgeous view of the famous red mountains of Saeien. It’s quiet and peaceful. But the fact that he has to share this room with Spock is keeping Leonard from relaxing enough to enjoy it.
“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t been avoiding me,” Leonard tells Spock.
Spock raises an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“You’ve been avoiding me for some reason since Cassius III and you know it. This diplomatic mission was the first time I’ve been able to be in the same room with you without you finding a way to leave. I was trying to find out what was bothering you.” Leonard sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. He turns to face the window, looking out at the crimson red mountains. “But apparently we can’t have a decent conversation without ‘squabbling’, like Jim calls it.”
When Spock doesn’t say anything, Leonard turns to look at him. “Why were you avoiding me?” he asks.
But instead of answering, Spock begins to walk away.
“Oh no you don’t,” Leonard growls, grabbing Spock’s arm. “Like it or not, we’re both stuck in this room. There’s no running away anymore.”
“I can choose not to answer.” Spock’s face is unreadable, completely blank.
“Yeah, I guess you could,” Leonard replies. “But I just want to know what I did wrong so I don’t do it again. I just want to understand.”
“Are you so sure that the fault is yours, Doctor?” Spock asks.
“Why else would you be avoiding me?”
“Why indeed. Have you not considered that I could be the one at fault?”
Leonard doesn’t reply. He hadn’t considered this at all.
Spock continues to talk. “I am ashamed by my emotions when I am around you, I am ashamed by my lack of control. I am ashamed by my actions.” Spock reaches out and Leonard thinks that he’s going to hold his hand, but instead, he runs his first two fingers lightly across Leonard’s own fingers.
And suddenly, Leonard remembers. “My dream. This was happening. You were doing this.”
“It was not your dream.” Spock’s voice sounds strained and he withdraws his hand. “It was mine. I simply projected it onto you with my touch telepathy.”
The realization of what is happening here hits Leonard like a train. He swallows, throat suddenly dry. Fuck it, he thinks.
“Spock,” Leonard says, gripping Spock’s chin with one hand so that he can’t look away. Leonard doesn’t miss the way Spock tries not to shiver. “What you said earlier, about me not understanding what Vulcans do or don’t do? I’m counting on you to tell me if I’m doing anything wrong, all right? I’m counting on you.”
And Leonard leans in to kiss Spock.
At first he’s worried that Spock will push him away, but then Spock parts his lips. Leonard feels the tension bleed out of the other man’s body and he can’t help himself from breaking the kiss by smiling against Spock’s lips.
Spock lets out a noise of disapproval, and he settles a hand on the back of Leonard’s neck, insistently deepening the kiss until Leonard is out of breath, dizzy with sensation. All thoughts of diplomatic missions are thrown right out the window.
They move until the backs of Leonard’s knees hit the bed and then Spock is straddling his hips. He strips off Leonard’s shirt, and then goes back to kissing him. Leonard, suddenly struck by an idea, lifts his fingers to the hand Spock has cupped around his cheek. He traces his first two fingers across Spock’s knuckles, mimicking the gesture from before. Spock moans, actually goddamn moans into Leonard’s mouth.
Leonard pulls away slightly. “I was right! That’s how Vulcans kiss, isn’t it? These are erogenous zones for you, aren’t they?”
“You are insufferable as usual,” Spock says, but admits nothing, even though the green flush to his cheeks and the obvious erection that he’s sporting is proof enough.
Leonard smirks. He strokes Spock’s fingers again, but this time he gently scrapes his fingernail across Spock’s hand, like he remembers from the dream. Spock moans again, and his hips rock forward like he can’t help himself. The friction has Leonard bucking his own hips in response and loosing a string of profanities.
He is quickly divested of his pants after that, and they are unceremoniously discarded on the floor. All coherent thought follows soon after that.
-
Their five-year mission ends, as missions do. Near the end, Leonard sets up plans for what he’s going to do back home, but he ends up discarding every single one. The truth is, he has no idea. He has no idea what his life is going to be like with all that free time. Until something else comes up, and he inevitably has to go off with another ship and another crew, he’s feeling pretty lost.
So when he off-handedly mentions to Spock that they should take a week off together in Georgia, it’s hardly a brain-scratcher. He’s terrified of feeling lonely. He knows Spock is in high demand at Starfleet, so he’s expecting Spock to say that he has to stay in San Francisco. But to his surprise, Spock agrees immediately.
“I would like to see your home,” Spock says, when Leonard asks him what made him decide to come.
He finds himself nervous when he shows Spock around the house. He’s worried Spock won’t like it, or will be bored by it. It’s definitely nothing like the buildings at Starfleet or the Enterprise. It’s a simple, old-fashioned house, with walls that don’t open automatically if you walk up to them, and lamps that require you to actually flip the switch to turn them on.
But instead, Spock seems to be fascinated, especially by the pictures hanging on the wall. He asks Leonard many questions during the course of the short tour, most of them pertaining to Leonard’s childhood. Leonard remembers with a pang that Spock’s own childhood home isn’t there anymore. He tries to answer the questions as best as he can.
Spock seems especially fascinated by the upright piano in the living room.
“Can you play it?” he asks.
“I’m way out of practice. I took lessons until I was eighteen and had to go to college,” Leonard explains. “After that, there wasn’t any time to keep in practice.”
“It would honor me if you would perform a piece,” Spock says, suddenly formal.
Leonard laughs. “I was never a good pianist to begin with, Spock. Without practice, I’d be even worse. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Spock answers, and the look in his eyes is enough for Leonard to agree. He knows from past experience that when Spock has that look in his eye, it usually means great sex. So with this in mind, he manages to dig up a sheaf of old sheet music.
“This is all Christmas music. It’s supposed to be played in the winter time. Is that okay?” Leonard asks.
Spock nods and sits by him on the piano bench. He looks so eager to see Leonard play. Leonard hopes that he won’t make a fool out of himself. At random, he chooses “Silent Night”. Leonard plays tentatively at first, but he gains confidence when he realizes that he still remembers how to do this, finds his fingers moving on their own and falling into old patterns that he thought he had lost a long time ago.
The piece ends, and Leonard smiles a little with satisfaction. His fingers haven’t even left the keys before Spock is kissing him.
Spock makes him play all of the pieces one by one, rewarding him with a kiss after each one until the house sounds like Christmas and Leonard’s lips are kiss-swollen. He stumbles through the last piece, a jazz rendition of “Jingle Bells”.
“That’s the last one, Spock,” Leonard says when he’s done. Spock’s response is to drop to his knees and suck him off, right there on the piano bench.
-
“Thank you for showing me your home,” Spock says afterwards, when they are sitting on the swing together on the porch. The stars are out tonight, and it’s slightly chilly, so Leonard has brought out a quilt from inside. By now, he and Spock are experts at conserving heat together.
Leonard sighs. “I’ll be honest with you, Spock. I haven’t thought of this place as my home in a long time. Maybe before I even joined Starfleet.”
Spock makes a noise of confusion. “Where then?”
“It’s out there.” Leonard waves his hand out at the stars. He feels a strong sense of loss that he is back on Earth, instead of on the Enterprise.
Spock is quiet for a long moment before beginning to talk. “You are always talking about my humanity and how I should take it into consideration. But how can you talk about humanity when you do not even consider the Earth your home? What is humanity then?” Spock sounds genuinely confused and almost hurt, and Leonard finds he isn’t sure himself what the answer is.
“Humanity is something else, Spock,” he says slowly. “It doesn’t have to do with a place. It’s how you think about yourself and other people.” Even to his own ears, this answer seems unconvincing.
He tries again. “The truth is I’m not sure. But maybe humanity could be looking out at this huge, terrifying, uncaring universe. And then turning to the person next to you and loving them despite all that.”
Spock turns to look at him. “I love you, Spock,” Leonard whispers. “You didn’t have to come to Georgia to see my home. You were home with me all along.”