Work Text:
Being forced to cohabitate with a human was always going to be a challenge regardless of which human it was. Spock had known that going in. It was why he'd strongly recommended he be given private quarters upon his arrival on Earth but Starfleet academy had been insistent that he was required to bunk with someone as one of their students. To avoid the appearance of favouritism they'd claimed.
They're more concerned with the appearance of fairness than seeing to the specific needs of their students. Illogical. But there'd been no arguing with the decision and he had been the one to send himself to Earth, against his father's wishes no less. It followed that he had to deal with the consequences of that choice and it seemed a roommate was that consequence. A tolerable compromise that won't have any effect on my studies, he reasoned when he'd sat alone worrying over the possibilities.
Not even his greatest nightmares at the time could've conjured up James Tiberius Kirk however. The messy, loud, oversleeper with a seemingly never ending, all consuming need to talk. He'd almost jumped on a ship back to Vulcan one week in, pride be damned.
But as the year progressed he found himself glad he'd endured the difficult times. True Mr Kirk had no concept of tidiness or organization but he was surprisingly studeous when he found a topic of interest. He sometimes had insights or formed connections even Spock hadn't considered and though he'd never admit it out loud, for fear of feeding Kirk's ego any further, he was outstandingly intelligent.
But more than that Kirk was far more caring than his outward persona might suggest. As the ice between them thawed to something more comfortable, he realized Jim would sometimes do things just for Spock's benefit. Stay with his friend so Spock could have the room to himself when studying for something particularly stressful. Keep their shared bookshelf organized the way he liked it even though he knew Jim didn't personally care. He'd even started leaving articles he thought Spock might find interesting on his desk and took a genuine interest in listening to his thoughts. All without ever having been asked to do anything. No one outside of his own mother had ever been so thoughtful around him before.
His mother.
Spock breathed a harsh sigh as he approached their shared quarters. Regardless of how close they may or may not have grown he had no desire to deal with his roommate today. Kirk would want to talk. He always did. And he wasn't in the mood today.
As the door opened he blinked, taking in the space with surprise. It was immaculate, almost as clean as the day he'd moved in. Even Kirk's side of the room was clear of clutter which was even more surprising considering said human was currently hovering around his own side of the room like he was waiting for someone, a smile on his face. “The room is...tidy." He observed alloud.
Jim's smile broadened, reaching his eyes now. It made his heart flutter in his side which was completely illogical. “It is, are you impressed?”
“It certainly seems to be a milestone for you,” the blonde winced in response. Spock almost felt bad for being so harsh but it really wasn’t his responsibility to take care of another grown man no matter how bad losing that smile made him feel.
“Ha, ouch, Okay I guess I deserve that,” Kirk straightened up, taking a bowl of the desk next to him, "But I have something for you."
Spock immediately recognized the scent. "Plomeek soup?"
"Yup, I found a little place around campus that makes it ages ago," he held out the bowl, eyebrows raised expectantly. Spock took it instinctively. "The guy there promised it was an authentic Vulcan recipe so I hope it tastes like a little bit of home."
Spock stared at it. It certainly smelled exactly like he remembered which in itself was amazing. It meant this hadn't been made with a replicator. Swallowing he met Jim's hopeful gaze. “Why?”
“Well, you've been...different the last few days." Spock tensed. He was so sure he'd been concealing his emotions appropriately and yet Kirk, a man incapable of finding his own boots in the morning, had read his disquiet. I have been too careless with my emotions around him. Father would be disappointed. "And I think, I mean I hoped I could make you feel a little better."
His grip tightened on the bowl involuntarily. He was used to snide comments about his lack of control from his peers but he certainly didn't need a human passing judgement. The nerve. “I don’t require your pity, Mr Kirk."
“Jim, Spock. I've told you call me Jim. And it’s not pity, it’s empathy," Kirk frowned, "Look I didn't mean to pry, I know you like your privacy-"
“A fact you know yet apparently ignore," Spock interrupted, his eyes narrowing.
Frustration finally broke in the other man's expression, "I wasn't trying to pry! For God's sake Spock, I was just trying to make you feel better because I could tell you were upset, I wasn't demanding a detailed explanation about your problems or anything!"
"And why would you try to do such a thing?" Spock paced forward and set the soup down on his desk, eager to look away from those burning blue eyes, "What concern is it of yours if I'm upset, as you put it?"
"Oh I dont know, maybe because we're friends, Spock? And I care that you're not happy or not at full effiency or whatever you call it." Kirk threw up his arms behind Spock's back, exasperated, "What friends don't have duties to each other on Vulcan?"
Spock turned to glare at him, insecurity flaring into annoyance before he could stop it. “I am at full efficiency and I do not appreciate your doubt in my ability when you have so little of your own. We are not friends and it is no way your duty to quote ‘make me feel better’. This is an unfavourable living arrangement, Kirk, nothing more.”
As soon as the words left his mouth Spock wanted to take them back. Jim's entire posture shifted into something more defensive, less sure, taking a step back as if to distance himself from Spock lest he strike out again. It was like watching a cloud cover the sun, leaving only a memory of warmth.
He snapped his jaw shut, feeling far more guilty and frustrated than any Vulcan ever should. Without another word he stormed out of their quarters. He needed to think, to meditate. Most of all he needed to forget the look of mingled hurt and disappointment in Jim's eyes or he feared he'd never be able to sleep again.
~~~~~
By the time Spock had built up the nerve to return to his quarters it was dark out. He'd tried meditation but his thoughts were full of too much chaos for him to concentrate for long. So he'd opted to study in the library instead. When even books offered him no peace he'd accepted he'd have to confront Kirk and apologize before he'd be able to concentrate properly again.
Surprise was once again the overriding emotion as he stepped into his quarters. This time a small collection of pillows and blankets had been pulled on the floor close to his bed, with a pile of books he didn't recognize in the center. Candlelight lit the room with a warm glow, the scenes of cinnamon and spice in the air.
“Yes it is,” he spun around, finding Kirk leaning against the doorway to their shared bathroom, “I don’t care what you say, you're my friend and I'm gonna try and make you feel better when I think it's necessary."
Spock's throat tightened and for a moment he couldn't speak. Jim did this...for him? Even after his harsh words and coldness he still wanted to make him feel better? Affection, gratitude, guilt and longing swirled inside him, mixing the words in his head in a way no one had been able to do to him before. "Kirk-"
“Don’t say anything. I just made you some space to read and relax for the night. Just enjoy it,” Jim smiled, edging around him towards the door.
“You are not staying?” His heart sunk. He couldn't leave, not now. Not before Spock had a chance to say...well anything.
Kirk shrugged, “Figured I’d get out of your hair. Give you some space and all that. I’m gonna stay with Bones for the night.”
"I-"
"No it's Okay, Spock, really. I know I'm not easy to live with and I really like having you as a roommate so if it's space you need I got your back," he grinned but it didn't reach his eyes the way it usually did.
Spock reached out a hand to stop him before he could move any closer to the door. "Wait," Jim obeyed instantly, sending another bolt of longing running through him that he didn't understand, "I do not want you to leave. If...if you do not want to leave that is."
"You don't?" Surprise coloured Kirk's tone.
"No. I wish to apologize for my earlier behaviour," he lowered his hand to his sides, making sure to keep eye contact to convey his sincerity in human terms, "What I said was untrue and unfair. You were correct Jim. I am...more emotionally compromised than I find acceptable and I took my ire towards myself out on you."
Jim's eyes were soft and free of judgment as he spoke, "Apology accepted. And if it means anything the only reason I could even tell something was up was because I spend a lot of time with you. You're not obvious, far from it. I don't think anyone else would think you're anything but the picture of emotionless logic."
"Thank you, Jim," he couldn't help the small smile of delight at Jim's words, flattered despite himself.
"You called me Jim!" His eyes shone with delight making his heart skip a beat.
"Yes I suppose I did," Spock took a pace towards pillows on the floor before turning to meet those beautiful eyes again, "Will you join me?"
"Sure," he said easily, shrugging off his jacket as he settled on the floor next to the Vulcan. "Dunno how good I'll be at debating stuff as advanced as this though."
"Then perhaps I can read these another time. Have you ever played 3D chess?"
"No," Jim grinned, "Teach me?"
He nodded, reciting the rules of the game as he assembled the set he kept under his bed. As they played and Spock settled in to watching Jim's mind turn over this new scenario his own mind finally figured something out.
I love him, he realized, his gaze flicking to Jim's face, his expression serious as he studied the board intently, and quickly away before he could be noticed. It should have terrified him, suddenly seeing how deeply he needed this infuriatingly illogical being. Or at least made him want to put as much distance between himself and any possible distraction as he could.
But he knew, right then, he could never put distance between himself and Jim. Never again. Not for any reason. And what's more he didn't care.
How illogical.