Chapter Text
(Kirk POV)
Kirk was freaking out. Nothing bad had happened. In fact, the opposite. He had been handed his dreams on a silver platter; he was getting what he had been wishing for for years. At least, he thought he was. He didn’t really understand what this meant, in a lot of ways. That was part of what he was panicking about.
He had finished his shift on the bridge, and headed down to his quarters to work on some day-to-day, routine, completely normal paperwork. And that is what he had done. After approving a relationship request and authorizing a couple of modifications in engineering, he opened Spock’s report for the day. He skimmed over the information: a brief update on the progress of the science lab’s experiment, a recount of a minor crew incident, and a note of a replicator repair he had completed. All normal, standard, routine stuff. With the exception of the attached message.
Captain, I thought it proper to inform you that you and I have developed what is known on Vulcan as a T’hy’la bond. I am prepared to discuss what you wish to do about this at your leisure.
When he opened the message, he had expected one of the many things such messages usually contained. An invitation to play chess. A less official take on the happenings of the ship. A note about which crew members he recommended not be scheduled together. Honestly, he was halfway through the second sentence before he really recognized it was not one of those things. He reread the message, the strange feeling of nervous anticipation he had felt for hours increasing. He could feel his heart pounding. To be honest, he had never heard the word “t’hy’la”, but he got the feeling it was meaningful somehow. Besides, Vulcan bonds were hardly casual things, at least to his knowledge. He had only really heard of bonds in the context of marriage(or what was more or less the Vulcan equivalent), but he was hardly an expert on the subject.
He supposed it made sense that they might exist in other contexts- he and Spock worked closely together, and spent much of their recreation time together as well. If there was some other sort of bond, it probably wasn’t too wild an idea that they might have one. And he liked the idea of his mind being connected to Spock’s, although he didn’t know if Spock felt the same. He requested the computer provide him with information on the word, and that is when he, for lack of a better term, “freaked the fuck out”.
The computer was still on, despite the fact that he had surely been pacing around his quarters for at least half an hour. I really need to change the shutdown time on that, he thought. He felt silly acting like this- he had wanted this, hadn’t he? He loved being near Spock, spending time with Spock… and as much as he might try to deny it, he loved Spock. But… did this really mean Spock loved him? The message was so formal- sure, he knew it was Spock he was talking about, but still- what if Spock just wanted to discuss when and how it could be removed? Maybe Spock doesn’t want this at all. He ignored the voice in his head telling him there was an obvious way to find out what Spock might want.
He needed a drink. He very much did not want to go through Dr. McCoy to get said drink, but he had none in his own quarters, and this was not a time for replicated. However… he knew Bones had a bottle in sickbay. Its absence would be noticed, sure, but he would deal with that later. For the time being, he took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, and prayed for empty halls. Stepping out of his quarters in as calm a fashion as he could manage, he began the journey to sickbay.
When he finally arrived(was sickbay always that long a walk?), he faced another obstacle. Bones may not have been there, but Doctor M’Benga greeted him as soon as he came in.
“Is there something I can do for you, Captain?”
“No, thanks. I’m just…” aware ‘stealing a bottle of alcohol so I don’t have to talk to Bones’ was not an appropriate answer to give, he grasped desperately for a believable(and befitting of the Captain) excuse. He spied a nearby box of tapes, and grabbed one. “I’m just here to grab some reading material. See you later!” he said, already on his way out the door. Well, probably a D for believably, but it could be worse. He glanced at the label on the tape. And I suppose I’ve had weirder interests than a study on blood regeneration rates in Andorians. Still, he could be certain he’d get some questions about it from Bones. And he hadn’t even gotten alcohol for his troubles.
He was growing yet more restless, so he decided to head to the gym. Perhaps he could rid himself of some of the restless energy, and even eventually calm down enough to figure out his next steps.
*****
(Spock POV)
Spock had known he needed to inform the Captain of their newly developed bond as soon as he had felt it. It was the logical decision; he had already neglected to recognize and address what was happening, and what he was feeling, for too long. And now the bond had finished forming. It was new, but undeniably there. A part of him, illogical as it was, did not want to tell the Captain. To tell Jim. He did not know how Jim would feel about it, and he very much did not want to lose him. Still, Spock knew he could not keep their minds shielded from each other forever, and it would be unethical to allow their minds to bleed into each other’s without Jim’s consent, if he could prevent it. So, he resolved to message Jim about it tonight. He would allow Jim time to think about it, and make a decision on his own time.
At lunch, he had drafted the message, deciding to send it with his nightly report. Jim would be able to read it in the privacy of his quarters, with no pressure to act. He, however, illogically felt as if there was a great weight pressing at him. His movements felt heavier, his actions more forceful. It took more energy than normal to suppress the feelings threatening to come out of him, but if someone noticed his struggle, he saw no sign of it.
What Spock had failed to predict was the sheer amount of energy it would take to shield their minds. He did not know how much was due to the fact his new bondmate was human- and not even aware of the bond- and how much was the nature of the t’hy’la bond. Not much research existed on either; he figured it unlikely there was even a single reported case on both. Not to mention he was half-human himself, as much as he might try to discount it. While his mental abilities were that of a full Vulcan, his human side may assist in the compatibility of their minds. And, if he was honest, handling his own feelings about this was no small task.
He left the bridge early, feeling unable to stand there any longer. He gave the excuse that he was going to check on the science lab’s progress, which, while doing so was a good idea, he knew that was not his true reason for doing it. Nevertheless, he proceeded to the science lab, and obtained a brief update of the progress from the Lieutenant on duty. While Spock might have normally found the update interesting, despite it being rather uneventful, he now could barely focus on it. When she was done, he nodded, thanked her for the report, and went to his quarters to draft his nightly report.
Once the report was sent on its way, message attached, Spock decided he needed to meditate. He took a little longer than he normally would to settle into a full meditative state, but that wasn’t too surprising. After 1.6 hours, he was interrupted by a sudden thought entering his brain. A thought that was decidedly not his. It was, however, about him, which is likely why it was able to penetrate his shields.
Jim had started reading his nightly report.
He tried to reinforce his shields, and reenter his meditative state to provide the strength it was clear he would need to keep their minds fully separated. He had almost succeeded when waves of emotion began to wash over him: first, confusion. He could feel his own nervousness building within him, unable to quell it. Other emotions from Jim begin to join the symphony, although he did not identify most of them. He was trying very hard to keep them away, to allow Jim his privacy.
Perhaps it would help if he were to leave his quarters; the proximity to Jim- to the Captain- would only strengthen the connection. And maybe it would help him calm down to focus on exercising. He calculated a 62% chance that the gym was unoccupied at this time.
It was, in fact, empty, and he was able to mostly free his mind from Jim’s. A few stray thoughts and threads of emotion made their way through despite his efforts, but he did not allow himself to dwell on them. After 47 minutes, he felt Jim’s mind approaching. He was coming to the gym, likely to attempt to relieve his own emotions through movement. Spock couldn’t be here when that happened, which by his estimate was in only a minute and 15 seconds.
He made the logical decision, and promptly entered the Jefferies tube. The entrance panel clicked back into place not 5 seconds before he heard the whoosh of the doors.
*****
(Kirk POV)
As Kirk approached the gym, he felt a sense of urgency. To do what, he did not know. At the moment, he had no shortage of feelings he did not understand. The gym doors came into view, and he felt a sense of relief he stepped in front of them.
Practically as soon as he was inside the gym, he was on the treadmill. Normally, this was not his machine of choice. However, right now, he needed to run.
So he ran. And when he began to feel he was about to fly off the back of the treadmill, he approached the punching bag. He had no clue how long he did either, but after however long it was, he noticed he was very tired. He sat down right where he was, figuring he would sit on the mat for a minute while he regained the energy to return to his quarters.
As he sat there, his mind began to drift. He thought of sitting on the bridge, Spock by his side, his hand on the arm of his chair. He thought of Spock at the science station, speaking to him in a low tone as he leaned over his shoulder. He thought of Spock across a chessboard, studying the game intently as he planned his next move. He thought of Spock, with his infinite curiosity, his dry sense of humor, and his acceptance of all that Kirk was. He thought of his eyes, with all the subtle ways they changed, his lips, twitching at the edges as he watched Kirk, how soft they looked…
And then he fell asleep.