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“I tell you nearly every time this happens captain, but this is possibly the worst decision you’ve made to date.”
Jim clenched his fists. Not out of anger, but to make sure he could keep the blood flowing to his finger tips. Him and Spock were trapped, not surprising as this always seemed to fucking happen, but this situation was more dangerous than previous entrapments. The temperature outside was plummeting, and spiraling down fast. There wasn’t any chance for them to escape as frostbite likely would take only minutes to latch on. And unfortunately for Spock, it looked as though the tips of his ears were headed that way.
“You’re right.”
Spock prepared for the argument. They always argued about Jim’s poor judgement. He was too impulsive some days and Spock warned him that it would end up deadly.
“Yes, I am.”
They were lucky to be near an emergency cabin. They were lucky that the planet’s citizens had the same rescue systems in place for lost hikers that they had on Earth. Jim sat Spock down on the floor while he rummaged through some boxes. He found blankets and immediately wrapped Spock up in one.
“I’ll see if there’s any way to get a fire going.”
Spock shivered, watching his captain silently taking inventory of everything he found. It wasn’t so much the cold at this point that was bothering the Vulcan. It was the pain in his ears, the slow degradation of his ear tips as the warmer air of the cabin hit them.
“This is getting incredibly painful.”
Jim looked back at Spock whose face was scrunched up. He raced over to a first aid kit he saw in the corner.
“Shit, I wish Uhura was here.”
“Bring the kit over.”
He sat the kit in front of Spock, sitting down as well. Jim kept his sight on Spock’s ears, blisters were starting to appear. Of all the things that Jim could have done on this stupid mission, flirting was the thing he should have avoided. He shouldn’t have teased Spock as they were hiking on an isolated trail. He shouldn’t have assumed they were going to beat the storm. He shouldn’t have grabbed at Spock’s hat, and threw it off where the wind caught it and carried it down into the river gorge. He definitely shouldn’t have thrown off his own hat, exclaiming about the fact they were both in the same situation.
Jim had taken any kind of training he had in Starfleet and absolutely ignored all of it. Spock was paying for it.
“I can gather that this package and this package might have some pain relieving components, but I wasn’t really briefed on this language.”
Spock only looked at Jim, not surprised that was Jim’s answer. He knew Jim was briefed on the language but chose not to do any prior engagement with the documents both he, Uhura, and the sociologists gave him. It was his own damn fault Jim couldn’t read any words.
He ripped the packages out of Jim’s grasp. Spock wanted the pain to subside, he was desperate for it.
“Your guess is correct.”
The cold not only penetrated their clothing and their skin, it was starting to penetrate their thoughts. It was ugly, the way Spock responded, and highly emotive for such an emotionless being. Jim’s guilt tore at him. He stood, going back to his previous task. If only to get Spock out of his sight.
“I fucked up. I royally fucked up. I put us in danger, and what’s worse is I put you in danger. And it was all needless.”
Jim sought any tools that could help. Of course they had to be in here, it was an emergency shelter, and the planners had to assume someone had to go chop firewood. He might not be able to find a tree, but there was a bulky wooden dinner table that caught his attention.
“I’ll get this fire stared, we’ll get your ears warmed back up. We’ll go from there. We’ll wait out this storm and once we can get back in touch with the ship all will be fine.”
“And until then?”
Spock wrapped the blanket tighter around him.
“I’ll try not to give you any more reasons to murder me.”
A hatchet was stashed away in a far corner of the cabin. Jim juggled the weapon a bit to gauge the weight and balance of it. He effortlessly broke down the table, laying each piece of wood in the fireplace. Spock expected Jim to grab his phaser to start the flames, but he witnessed Jim shake out a small flint from a pocket in the forearm of his jacket. He shook his head. Of course it would be more logical to use something that doesn’t use a precious resource.
“Spock?”
He looked up. His head was heavy, his eyes too. Trying so hard to warm up was quickly depleting the little energy Spock had left. He shivered, despite being wrapped tightly in wool.
“Okay, how about this,” Jim threw off his jacket. “Let’s move closer to the fire and we’ll share some blanket.”
Jim knelt down, just to gauge how Spock was doing. He was starting to catch flickers of emotions in the Vulcan’s eyes, or at least he thought he was starting to. Perhaps his ability to read Spock’s face was just projection, but he had to try.
Spock sighed.
“I’m serious, commander.”
He grabbed Spock’s icy hand. They slowly walked towards the fire and sat once more on the floor. The burning at the tips of Spock’s ears increased with the heat. He winced, gritting his teeth.
“Ears still bothering you?” Jim looked them over. He noted the blisters, increasing in size.
“And toes.”
Jim huddled under the blanket with Spock. Despite his own ability to warm up, Spock was still icy cold. He was used to Spock radiating heat, but there was no more heating coming from him than a typical human. His arms slowly wrapped around the Vulcan. Of all the things he imagined himself doing to Spock, this wasn’t the situation he wanted to share such an intimate hold.
“I’m sorry. I was trying—it doesn’t matter what I was trying to do. I put you in danger.”
“And what were you trying to do,” Spock shivered.
“Uhm,” Jim chewed on his lip. He wasn’t expecting to fully divulging his feelings this soon, but Spock could call out his lying easily. “I was trying to get us into a position like this, but uh…more promiscuous in nature.”
“If you weren’t helping my body regulate its temperature I would ask you to let go of me and find refuge elsewhere.”
“Well, at least you don’t sound revolted.”
Spock picked up on the dejection. By no means was he revolted by Jim Kirk. He was smart and aesthetically pleasing. What bothered him was the disregard for his responsibility to pursue personal matters instead. It was the only part of Jim he actively disliked.
“I would say I am displeased with your actions during a volatile weather situation.”
“When we get back to the ship, I’ll make it up to you.”
Jim heard the small sigh emanate from Spock’s chest. It was another thing Jim couldn’t ignore in this quite strange, uncomfortable, yet desirable position: Spock’s heartbeat was distantly thumping away. Actually hearing the difference between his and his own anatomy gave Jim some clue as to why Bones was so fascinated with anatomy.
“I’ll report myself.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“So you can do it instead?”
“No.”
They stayed silent. Jim overthinking the response. Spock growing uncomfortable.
“Jim?”
“What,” he said slightly irritated. Yes, he was overthinking quite a bit about how Spock was going to get him into trouble with command this time.
“I—There’s a much better position for you to be in. If you still desire to keep me from hypothermic shock.”
“Er, right! Anything.” Jim couldn’t control the shaking in his own voice. He was overwhelmed. Nervous. Frazzled.
“I wish to face the fireplace. Equalize the heat on both of my ears.”
Spock nudged Jim away, recognizing the fragile emotions the human was experiencing. He did after all just confess he was engaging in flirtatious behavior. It didn’t help that he rejected that.
Then again Spock hadn’t thought much about Jim in that way. He was acceptable to be around and when he did concentrate he was a great leader. When Spock rarely engaged with his emotions he liked being around Jim. He was a good friend.
Maybe this long stay in this rescue cabin would be one of those times where he had to engage in his emotions once more. He had to question himself.
“You’re really okay with this?”
Jim cautiously, yet swiftly grabbed the blanket wrapping it around himself while Spock moved even closer to the fire. He sat down behind the Vulcan, wrapping his arms and the blanket fully around them.
“Yes, but your legs will quickly tire,” Spock grabbed Jim’s ankles, propping his legs on top of his own thighs.
He blushed, thankfully going unnoticed. Now he had to keep his thoughts clear. Clear and focused on the task at hand, which was a very very cold Vulcan.
“You desire to be romantically involved with me.”
“I—“
“The way your muscles tensed up, I am correct in that assertion? This response coupled with your statement earlier. At first I considered you only wanted to try something physical yet—“
“Spock please stop sounding so clinical about this holy shit. I’m sitting here flush up against you with both my arms and legs wrapped around you and you’re starting to do that thing you always do. Just stop and I dunno sound less like you’re trying to code something okay?”
“You like me.”
“Yes! I like you. I really like you. I have explicit dreams about you. I get nervous around you! I imagine us sneaking off to a turbo lift, an empty conference room, turning off the gravity in the middle of gamma shift in cargo bay.
“But I also imagine quieter things. Moments like this that aren’t brought on by you being close to dying or my being a fucking idiot. Small moments where our friendship solidifies into something more intimate.”
He wanted nothing more than for Spock to warm up. He was so cold. So fucking cold it was starting to scare him.
“But none of that doesn’t matter right now.”
“Mmm.”
“How are feeling right now?
“You’re asking that of a Vulcan?”
“Spock.”
“Apologies. I was attempting humor.” He grabbed onto Jim’s hands that were splayed across his chest. “I suppose there is a universe out there where you and I do not coexist. This is not one of them.”