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“I am not avoiding him.” Jim sat his plate down with a little more force than necessary and gave Bones an irritated look.
“Yes, you are!” He shot back. “You two were basically joined at the hip until a few weeks ago. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two had a fight”
They hadn’t. Quite the opposite really. Jim and Spock had been as close as ever.
The Enterprise’s Captain found himself looking most forward to the time he spent with his First Officer. They played chess almost on the daily. Conversation flowing easily between them as they took their meals together.
Spock had taken to bringing Jim his morning coffee every day, preparing it exactly the way he liked. In return, Jim listened to Spock ramble on about atmospheric readings and the like, oftentimes more occupied with studying the Vulcan’s features than actually taking in anything he said.
It felt so right, the casual closeness he had with Spock. They just fit together so perfectly, as command team as well as in private, his fondness growing with every moment they shared.
That was the problem.
Every lingering touch, every quirk of his eyebrow, every rare but oh so rewarding smile made Jim’s heart swell and face flush.
Just thinking of it now, he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks.
“It’s complicated,” he sighed.
“Well you better uncomplicate it, then. You’re making the crew nervous.” Jim’s shoulders stiffened. “We are?” He knew that Spock had noticed Jim keeping his distance the last few weeks. They hadn’t played chess in what felt like ages and off-hours were mostly spent alone in his room.
Even bridge-banter had all but disappeared between the two. He missed it, badly, but Jim just didn’t know how to face his friend after the revelation that he was indeed, deeply in love with him.
He was sure that the Vulcan would be able to tell instantly and Jim wasn’t ready to have that conversation. He wasn’t ready to be rejected. Not yet, not by him.
“I overheard Chekov telling Sulu he feels like a child of divorce.”
McCoy replied, sounding slightly amused, before he gruffly added “Even the crew is getting fed up with you two dancing around each other.”
Jim groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“I just don’t know what to do, Bones,” he said, his tone defeated.
“Jim, I have known you for almost ten years now. I’ve seen you fall in love countless times during those ten years. It is obvious to everyone but that pointy eared pain in my ass that you have feelings for him- heaven knows why. You’ve never had any problems wooing people you’re infatuated with before. What’s so different about it now?”
“Because it’s Spock, Bones! It’s different with him. I can’t just- It's not that simple.”
Jim sighed again, running a hand down his face.
McCoy, taking pity on his friend, said “Fine, you’ll figure it out. But you can’t keep avoiding him during work hours. You’ve got to show the crew that nothing about your ability to command as a unit has changed.”
“Okay, that I can do. I’ll just… take him with me on our next mission.”
“You do that, Jim. Now, let us please change the topic. Discussing your love-life is making me lose my appetite.”
Jim refrained from reminding Bones that he was the one who brought it up in the first place and instead started picking at his dinner.
What could go wrong, he thought.
They didn’t have to wait long for the next mission.
While transporting some valuable cargo, a small vessel had been hit by a meteor shower. This had sent them hurtling down on a largely unexplored M Class planet. The ship had broken in half on the way down, separating the crew from said valuable cargo. The man who was expecting the shipment was apparently very rich and influencial, so star fleet had ordered them to secure the contents of the ship as quickly as possible.
After beaming the survivors of the crash aboard the Enterprise, Kirk prepared to send down a search party.
Given how much ground they had to cover, Spock thought it most efficient to form 9 teams consisting of 2 people each, that would comb through the possible area of impact in a grid pattern.
“Sounds good. Mr. Spock, you’re with me.” If Spock was surprised by being picked, he didn’t show it.
The planet’s terrain was difficult to get through. Large boulders littered the ground, making it a challenge to look for the fallen cargo without slipping on the smooth rock covered in sand or dried out fungus.
They were more climbing than walking at this point, with them having to stop every few boulders so Kirk could catch his breath, the dry air making his throat feel sticky. The situation was also not helped by the gusts of wind that occasionally blew sand in their faces.
So far, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words. Instead of their usual, comfortable silence, it felt awkward, the air thick with tension.
Kirk hated it.
You’ve really done it now, Jim, the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously close to Bones’ whispered. ”So… any life-readings in the area?” It was a feeble attempt at striking up conversation, but Kirk was just desperate to break the silence at this point.
Without slowing his pace, Spock looked at the tricorder. “Not in our general vicinity, though there are humanoid life forms residing on this planet.” he stated, not looking at Kirk.
“I wonder how they managed to survive around here, given the unfriendly terrain and seeming lack of anything to eat,” the human said, while trying to hoist himself up on a particularly large rock.
Now, Kirk knew that normally, this question would’ve made Spock start ranting about humanoid development and agriculture on multiple, seemingly hostile worlds, ending in an analysis of the planets soil and access to water within the area. Instead, he replied with “Unclear.”
“Right.” If Bones were here, he would’ve made fun of the way Kirk’s facial expression resembled that of a kicked puppy.
This was going to be a long mission.
Kirk frequently checked in with the other teams, none of them having had any luck at finding what they were searching for. It had been hours and the wind was not letting up anytime soon.
In fact, it seemed to get worse by the minute, now not only slapping them in the face with sand, but also small twigs.
The sky had also started to darken, thick clouds now blocking out most of the sunlight. He had given up on trying to start a conversation, having only been met with short, curt answers.
Kirk knew that he himself was responsible for the way Spock was treating him, though it hurt nonetheless.
He shuddered at the thought of having to endure this for another few hours, when Spock suddenly stopped. “Captain, I have located our target.” Kirk looked in the direction his First Officer was pointing to and lo and behold, there it was.
Through squinted eyes he could make out the vague silhouette of a ships tail. It looked even worse for wear than the front, having seemingly been ripped open by the rock it crashed into.
Kirk flipped open his communicator and ordered the other search teams to beam up immediately, not wanting his crew to stay on this frankly awful planet any longer than necessary.
They made their way to the crash site, Kirk stumbling his way over and between the rocks, while Spock manoeuvred through them easily, to Kirk’s chagrin.
After going inside the wreckage and checking that the large metal box labelled “VALUABLE: DO NOT OPEN” was miraculously still there, Kirk was just about to tell Scotty to beam them up as well, when Spock spoke up again.
“Captain, we seem to have not been the first ones to find the wreckage. The box is empty.” Though he said this with without any intonation, the slight crease between his eyebrows told Kirk that the Vulcan was just as irritated at this new piece of information as he was.
His communicator beeped, with Scotty sounding rather grainy on the other side.
‘Ca-ain, shou-d I be-m ya up n-w?’
“No, hold off on that a bit, Scotty.”
‘A-e, capt-n.’
“Captain, we should not linger much longer. The atmosphere readings indicate an upcoming ion-storm.
"It would be unwise to wait until communications have ceased completely.”
Kirk was inclined to agree with Spock, but they had orders to retrieve the lost cargo as quickly as possible and having to wait out an ion-storm was certainly going to be anything but quick.
Kirk really wasn’t in the mood to deal with any angry Starfleet officials today. If they could find it, they should try.
“Let’s make this quick then.” He sighed, making his way over to the Vulcan, who was busy inspecting the infuriatingly empty box. One glance at the inside told Kirk what this “Valuable cargo” really was.
“They had guns stored in here. Antique, 20th century pistols and rifles.”” Indeed.”
So this is what was so important? Some very old, very expensive guns, probably meant for some rich guys's personal collection. And someone had taken them. Kirk didn't know much about this planet and it's inhabitants, but he was pretty sure firearms hadn't been invented yet.
Fuck this, Kirk thought. He wasn’t gonna get himself and Spock shot by whoever stole those weapons, Starfleet orders be damned.
Flipping his communicator open again, Kirk gave Scotty the all clear on beaming them up.
‘So-y -ir, b-t – can- -g-t a h-ld o- -our l-ca-ion’
“Scotty? Scotty, can you hear me?”
The wind had gotten even stronger now, Kirk unable to make out the broken pieces of speech over the howling storm.
Damn it, come on! He started hitting the communicator with his palm, without any effect.
“Captain.”
“Not now, Spock”
“Captain,” he said again, a bit louder this time.
“WHAT?” Kirk snapped, whipping around to face his First Officer.
With a facial expression that gave no warning for the words spoken next, he said
“We seem to be surrounded.”
The residents of this planet were humanoid alright. They could even be mistaken for humans, if it were not for the unnaturally large eyes and lion-esque tail swishing back and forth like that of an irate cat.
Their clothing reminiscent of the early middle-ages. Rough cloth with frayed edges hung from the creatures’ bodies.
They were also unfortunately intelligent enough to figure out how to at least hold a gun.
The one standing closest to them had a small pistol pointed at their general direction. Behind them, he could see at least three more of them, obscured by the now raging sand storm. The one standing closest to them was speaking in a language neither could understand, though judging by the tone of voice, they didn't seem very friendly.
Instinctively, Kirk moved to stand in front of Spock, but was stopped by the Vulcan’s hand on his shoulder.
Do not move, his eyes told him. With slow, deliberate movement, Spock opened his satchel and started pulling out the universal translator.
Try to communicate with them, good idea. Maybe they don’t know what the guns actually do.
Surely they weren’t loaded.
The shot that zipped by Spock’s hand and imbedded itself in the metal behind him squashed that small hope thoroughly.
As the humanoid started coming closer, it continued to talk, the words intersected by hissing or snarling sounds. Sharp teeth bared in an angry growl, tail still whipping back and forth. Spock’s grip on his shoulder tightened.
Quiet, in a voice barely audible over the loud storm around them, he whispered “Run.”
Not having to be told twice, Kirk started booking it, Spock close behind. They managed to round the metal wall of the wreckage before shots were fired at them, which promptly bounced off it with a loud clang.
The storm seemed to be their biggest advantage. The two men were mostly obscured by the sand and dust that filled the air, but that meant that their phasers were useless. Kirk’s mind went a mile a minute, trying to find a way to get them out of this.
They couldn’t fight, they were on the creatures’ home turf and getting gravely injured while they were unable to contact the Enterprise would be a death sentence.
Their only chance of survival would be somehow outrunning these creatures. If they were able to find shelter, they could wait out the storm and call for help.
His lungs were on fire, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. They were still trying to shake off their pursuers, who were seemingly unbothered by the sand, though Kirk was sure that they at least couldn’t smell them. Gunshots still cut through the air. One of them had slightly grazed Kirk’s arm.
Spock was still right behind him, occasionally turning around to see if the creatures had gotten any closer. It was almost impossible to make out anything in this weather and they had no inclination of where they were headed. It was only a matter of time until they reached them.
Another gunshot. Kirk flinched, his boot slipping on the smooth stone. His hand shot out for something to grab onto, but found nothing. With a yelp, he started sliding down the boulder he was on. Kirk expected to be met with another rock, but to his surprise, he wasn’t. At least not yet.
He continued falling, until his feet were met with hard ground. His legs promptly buckled, sending him onto the stone with a dull thud. His vision went dark for a few seconds. Still dazed, Kirk blinked.
Stars were dancing in his periphery as he slowly lifted his head, trying to take in his surroundings. It was mostly dark down here, the only light coming from the narrow slit he had fallen through. The air was cold and damp, sending a shiver down his spine. He could still hear the roaring winds above him.
And a voice, calling out his name.
“Jim!”
“I’m down here, Spock,” Kirk replied, before erupting into a coughing fit. He could hear his First Officer sliding down the wall after him, landing with only a bit more grace than he had.
The Vulcan looked like he was about to say something, when his Captain signalled him to be quiet. They could hear their pursuers loud footsteps up above, amplified by the hollow space.
They stayed there, trying to keep as still as possible until they were sure the creatures had moved on.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Kirk let out a shuddering breath, allowing himself a moment to get his bearings. They were out of immediate danger, at least for now. He sat up, the adrenalin slowly leaving him, making his limbs feel like lead.
“Are you unharmed?” Spock asked, extending an arm. He grabbed it by the wrist and was promptly pulled upright. Upon first inspection Kirk seemed to be fine. Yes, his legs felt like jelly and there were still a few black spots blocking his vision, but nothing felt broken, just bruised.
“I think so. You?” he said, voice hoarse.
“Nothing that would require immediate attention.”
Kirk felt a weight lift off him. They were fine enough. They’d find a way out of this, surely. One step at a time.
He nodded and took another look around. With his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, he could make out the walls of the cave. They weren’t just stone. Long, thick roots covered the sides of the tunnel, digging into the ground and the roof above. Leaves and moss all around them, dripping with water. It was a stark contrast to the dry and dusty land above.
“I guess now we know how the humanoids could survive out here. We should keep moving, those things could come back any second.”
He tried to take a step forward, his knees giving out under him. He would’ve landed face-first on the gravel below had Spock not grabbed him by the shoulder, before slinging Kirks arm around his own.
“Captain, you are in no condition to travel right now,” he said, voice steady.
“Well, we can’t stay here, it’s not safe.” He was now leaning heavily on the Vulcan. His right leg throbbed with pain. It might not be broken, but was definitely sprained.
Spock seemed to contemplate his words for a moment, before, without uttering a word, he placed one of his hands on Kirk’s back and the other one under his knees. He then gently lifted him up in a bridal-carry, before turning his head to face him.
Kirk, too stunned to say anything, quickly wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck.
He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks when Spock asked “Is this comfortable?”
Kirk, not trusting his voice, simply nodded. He thanked whoever may be out there for making the tunnels dark, as he was sure his face resembled a tomato by now.
They had never been this physically close before and Kirk found it increasingly difficult not to stare at Spock, as they made their way through the underground maze. He chastised himself for making it awkward and forcefully put his attention onto their surroundings.
The underground was a stark contrast to the land above. It was really quite beautiful down here, with lush greenery and bioluminescent fungi growing in every nook and cranny. He could hear small footsteps scuttering around the now widening tunnels’ edge. The water that flowed down the gigantic root systems throughout the caves formed fast flowing torrents at its sides. Vibrations caused by the storm above ran through the walls, making droplets fall and the ground shake slightly.
They were still trudging forward, Spock’s steps muffled by the soft moss and fine gravel beneath his boots. Both were silent again, though felt it a bit less suffocating than before. Kirk tried to think of something to say, but decided against it. Now was hardly the right time to talk about what was going on with them, although-
Stranded on an unexplored planet, unable to contact their ship and with murderous aliens most likely still on their trail, he didn’t know when they’d have the time to talk again.
This mission had made it all the more clear to Kirk, how much the emotional distance between him and his best friend hurt. It bothered him to no end, not being able to tell what Spock was thinking, he missed the way they would communicate without having to say a word. He needed to set things right, or at least try. If that meant having to face rejection, then so be it.
Kirk was ripped out of his thoughts by Spock suddenly halting in his tracks. They had reached a part of the tunnel that looked to have caved in, giving them only one possible direction to follow.
However, that direction was also a dead end. Upon closer inspection, it was made increasingly clear that something- or someone had once lived here. The walls were smoother than the ones they’d previously passed. Wooden beams protruding out of the ground gave the space the impression of multiple, tiny rooms, which were illuminated by glowing mushrooms growing out of the wood. A large fur blanket, a few small rugs and wooden logs covered the dry, stone floor.
“Whatever resided here seems to have departed quite a while ago,” Spock remarked.
Kirk thought so too. A layer of dust coated everything in the small space. The fireplace in the centre was empty as well, soot smeared on the ground around it.
“You think it’s safe?”
“It should be.”
Spock entered the abandoned home and walked to the nearest wall, where he crouched down and gently lay Kirk on one of the rugs. He then grabbed the large, furry blanket and patted it to get the dust off, before wrapping it around his Captain’s shoulders.
Kirk’s heart fluttered in his chest. He hadn’t expected to be treated with such care.
Especially by his First Officer. It made Kirk feel incredibly warm, which soothed his still aching body. His ankle had started to swell a bit, so he propped it up on a small log, hissing when his leg hit the cold surface. He tried sitting up, but quickly found this to be a very bad idea and plopped back down with a pained grunt.
Upon hearing this, Spock crouched down next to Kirk and slowly pulled back the fabric of his pant leg, as well as his boot. The cold air felt good on his now black and blue skin.
“Thank you. Goddamn that hurts,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I think I may be able to assist you with that,” Spock said, carefully lowering himself down next to Kirk, who couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle.
“Did you bring drugs? That’s not very professional of you,” he replied, trying to crack a joke, though the fact that he said this with a strained voice kinda made it fall flat.
Even in the dim light of the bioluminescent mushrooms, he could make out the slight raise of Spock’s eyebrow. “No. I did not.
“If you would permit me, I could however help your mind block out the pain.” Kirk remembered the last time he had done this, though it had been Bones he’d used it on.
After nodding in approval, Kirk could feel Spock’s warm hand on his face. A presence started making its way into his mind and he welcomed it without any resistance. Closing his eyes, he felt near instant relief as the sharp pain in his leg dulled to a slight throb. His muscles relaxed, making him sink further into the soft blanket with a sigh. The hand pulled away and Kirk immediately missed its warmth.
He hadn’t realized how tired he was, but now his eyelids seemed heavy as lead and he struggled to keep them open. Which was really quite difficult with how surprisingly cozy and soft it was.
“Sleep, Jim,” he could hear Spock say.
“I will keep watch.”
Murmuring something that sounded vaguely like ‘Thanks, Spock,’ Jim let his eyes fall shut and drifted off into a deep sleep.
Jim awoke after what felt like years, his mouth dry and body numb. It had taken him a few seconds to remember where he was, the events of the previous day coming back to him. He wanted more than anything to just go back to sleep. Instead, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the light.
It hadn’t been this bright when he fell asleep. Warm light bounced off the stone walls, making them shine slightly, though it still wasn’t easy to see by any means.
Jim lifted himself up a little more, pleased that his body didn’t hurt as much in the process. Checking his leg, he could also see that the swelling had gone down significantly.
That power-nap had really done him some good. Now sitting, Jim could see that the fireplace had been stacked with more wood and lit, the flames dancing around the circular pit and making the room pleasantly warm.
The smoke flew up to the ceiling, but seemingly disappeared between the cracked stone. Must lead to the surface, Jim thought. Turning to his right, he found the space empty. Jim sat up even more, his eyes now scanning the cave for his First Officer, who was nowhere to be found.
“Spock! Where are you,” he called out, already starting to get worried. Jim could still hear the faint rumbling of the storm above. He wouldn’t have climbed back onto the surface, would he?
No, he calmed himself, Spock was probably just gathering some more wood for the fire or examining some of the strange flora they’d seen down here. It must’ve been rather boring, just sitting around while Jim slept.
Damn, I hope I didn’t snore too loud.
Still, now that Jim was awake, he might as well take over on keeping watch. He was just about to call Spock’s name again, when the Vulcan in question rounded the corner, arms full of dead roots.
“Captain, I am pleased to see that you have awoken,” he greeted, putting the roots down next to the fireplace, before picking out a few to throw into the flames.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks again for the uh-…thing.” Jim replied, pointing at his head.
Feeling a little awkward, he sunk back down and started fiddling with the blanket.
“You are welcome.” Spock sat with his back to him, continuing to feed the fire.
“How long was I out?” Jim wondered, now realizing how hungry he was. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in days, which was confirmed by Spock replying with “thirty-one hours.”
Jim thought he hadn’t heard correctly at first, gaping at his friend in shock.
“Thirty-one-! That certainly explains the cottonmouth.”
How he had managed to sleep that long eluded him, though he had a sneaking suspicion his First Officer had something to do with it.
“About time I woke up then,” Jim remarked.
“You’ve been awake for at least two days straight. I know that you technically don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but we need to stay alert if we’re planning to get off this damn planet anytime soon.” He started patting the space next to him, signalling the other man to sit down.
Without protest, Spock made his way to the wall Jim was leaning against and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Had he been anyone else, Jim might not have noticed that the Vulcan was moving a little more stiffly than usual, putting one hand on the smooth stone for extra support, the other one at his side. In the warm light of the flames his skin also seemed a bit pale.
“Hey, you okay? You look a little green around the gills,” Jim asked, worry once again creeping its way into his stomach.
“Captain, Vulcans do not have gills.”
Spock now turned to him, sounding confused. Though he couldn’t completely make out his features in the dim light of the flames.
“No, I- I know. I mean you look like you’re not feeling well” He scooted closer, put a hand on Spock’s arm and was immediately surprised by how cool it felt. The skin was cold and clammy, which was even more worrying, given that the Vulcan’s body temperature should be higher than that of a human. Without thinking, he brought a hand up to Spock’s forehead, who pulled back slightly, startled by the sudden contact.
“You’re running a fever. Did you catch a cold down here?” with his hand still on Spock’s arm, Jim moved a bit closer, concern etched into his features.
“I believe I may be suffering from minor bloodloss,” Spock stated, removing his hand from his abdomen, the palm covered in a green liquid.
His side was wrapped in a make-shift bandage, blood seeping through the cloth and staining his torn uniform.
The smell of copper filled Jim’s nose, who stared at Spock with his eyes wide open.
“You got shot?! Why didn’t you tell me??” He all but shouted at his First Officer, expression horrified.
How had he not noticed it before? Had he really been that out of it?
“I was still perfectly functional. The damage is not life-threatening. Therefore, it was not relevant in the moment,” Spock replied, matter-of-factly, not meeting Jim’s eyes. The human looked taken aback by this, eyebrows knitting together in irritation.
“’Not relevant’? Of course it’s relevant that you got hurt!” Jim wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake the man, though he thought better of it.
“God damnit, Spock, I’m your friend! You should be able to tell me when something’s wrong with you.”
At this the Vulcan whipped around, finally meeting Jim’s eyes. “How can I do that, when you do not extent that same courtesy to me,” he shot back, tone challenging. He looked more frustrated than Jim had ever seen him before, seemingly not caring to hide his anger. Hands balled into fists, body now completely facing him.
Jim could only stare in return, too stunned to say anything.
Still looking directly into Jim’s eyes, Spock continued. “You have been keeping your distance. I have noticed you avoiding our usual shared activities. Evidently, you are upset about something I have done, yet you have not expressed a reason for your behaviour thus far.” Spock paused for a moment, taking a shaky breath, before ending with “I have elected to, as you humans say, ‘give you space’.”
Jim could see the hurt flashing in his friends eyes as he said this and his heart clenched painfully.
He really had fucked up.
Tearing his gaze away from Spock, Jim pulled back and ran a hand over his face with a sigh, before letting it fall to his lap. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the cold rock behind him. “I am such an idiot.”
Jim could practically feel Spock’s questioning eyes on him and told himself now or never, Kirk.
His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, the thumping so loud that Jim was sure the Vulcan could hear it. Mustering up the last bit of courage he had, he opened his mouth to speak.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. The opposite, actually and I am so sorry for making you feel like you did, because-…” he started explaining, hands fiddling with the blanket between his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep his voice from shaking.
“You are amazing, Spock. You’re talented and brilliant and kind and you- You mean so much to me. More than I ever thought possible, really. I-… I love the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about your interests, I love your appreciation for art and I love spending time with you- Both on shift and in private.
You keep me grounded whenever I feel overwhelmed or hopeless. Hell, you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. You seem to know me better than I know myself, sometimes.” Jim let out a dry chuckle, pausing for a second. He could feel a lump starting to form in his throat, but forced himself to continue speaking.
“You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
“And I was afraid of telling you how I feel because it's unprofessional and illogical.
You are the best First Officer I could ever ask for and my best friend and I don’t want to lose you because I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you.” Jim was unable to look at Spock, instead staring at the hands in his lap.
Silence stretched between them for what felt like an eternity, with Jim steeling himself for whatever came next by closing his eyes again, his cheeks burning.
His breath hitched when he felt a cold hand atop his own.
“Who said that you would lose me?”
Jim’s head shot up to look at Spock, who returned his gaze, expression soft and a tinge of green on his cheeks. Hope started blooming in Jim’s chest as he stared at his friend in surprise.
Spock lifted up a hand up to cup Jim’s cheek and gently brought their heads together, making their foreheads touch.
A presence once again tugged at the corner of his mind and Jim opened up, letting in a stream of emotion. Closing his eyes, he felt them flow into him.
Surprise, happiness, relief and an overwhelming amount of affection flooded his consciousness, sweeping away any lingering traces of fear and nervousness he’d felt. Jim tried sending something back in return, delighted when he could feel a wave of joy radiating from Spock’s mind.
They stayed like this for a while, basking in each other’s presence, just letting the other feel, before both slowly pulled back, opening their eyes again. They looked at each other for a moment, Jim unable to stop grinning like an idiot and Spock giving him a small smile.
The tightness around Jim’s heart, which had been plaguing him for way too long now had ceased, leaving only warmth in its stead. He looked at their entwined hands in his lap- When had that happened? - and marvelled at how perfectly they fit into each other.
Though now that the question of their feelings was out of the way, Jim’s focus was pulled back to Spock’s injured side. With a comforting hand on his shoulder, he asked “How’s the pain?”
Spock once again covered Jim’s hand with his own and answered “It is bearable.”
Jim frowned at that. He could see the slight bags under his eyes, beads of sweat on his pale skin and the way his breathing came out more shallow than it should. Spock desperately needed some rest and Jim was determined to let him have it. He reached forward, laying his hands on the Vulcan’s arms, before gently guiding him to lay down, his head resting on Jim’s lap. Mindful of the man’s side, Jim used some of the furs that were lying around as pillows for his back.
At Spock’s confused “Captain-?”, Jim pulled the large blanket over both of them and whispered “My turn to take care of you, okay?”
The Vulcan didn’t seem like he wanted to protest and relaxed against Jim, who started running his fingers through Spock’s hair. He could see some of the tension leave his friend as he closed his eyes and let out a quiet hum.
He continued doing this until Spock’s soft humming turned into more of a purr, sending vibrations through Jim’s fingers. He’d never heard his First Officer make such a noise before and hoped to get to hear it again once they were back on the Enterprise.
After a while Jim could hear Spock’s breathing evening out, as he finally fell asleep. Jim gazed at him, fondly and pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face.
He pulled the blanket a bit further up, before leaning his head against the stone behind him, closing his eyes as he listened to his friend sleep.
The muffled beeping of his communicator is what shook Jim out of his half-sleep. He had barely touched it when Bones’ slightly panicked voice yelled at him from the other side.
“JIM! Answer, goddamnit! You better not be dead, I swear to-“
“Bones?” Jim answered groggily, voice hoarse.
“Oh thank heavens” “Good ta hear yer voice, Captain.”
Jim let out a sigh. He was more than relieved to finally get off this planet and see the Enterprise again. Looking down at the still sleeping form next to him, he felt his still way too hot forehead with the back of his hand.
“Hey Bones. Good to hear you too, Scotty. You ready to beam us up?”
“Aye, Captain,” he could hear his chief engineer’s enthusiastic voice through the communicator.
“Just give me a few more seconds.”
“Thanks, Scotty. And tell Bones to get the med bay ready.”
Jim though he could make out something along the lines of ‘I knew they’d get themselves hurt, those goddamn idiots-’ before he felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam.
Several nurses were waiting for them in the transporter room, carting both men off to sickbay immediately after materializing.
Spock hadn’t woken up yet, which worried Jim a little, but M’Benga gently reassured him that he was going to be fine after getting his side stitched up and sleeping off the bloodloss with the help of a pack of his own blood they had for exactly this type of situation.
McCoy was less gentle throughout the whole process of giving Jim a thorough check-up, berating him while putting his foot in a brace and cussing him out as he used the dermal regenerator on his arm.
Jim could tell how worried his friend had been about them and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, before teasing him with a “love you too, Bones.” McCoy just gave him an exasperated huff, though Jim could see him smiling slightly as he told him to get some rest.
“Doctor’s orders. Not that you ever listen to those anyway.” With that he left the sickbay, leaving Jim and Spock alone in the room.
Feeling restless, Jim picked up the PADD from his bed’s side table and started filling out the mission report. It was going to be a hassle to take those guns away from the planet’s inhabitants, especially if they all lived in the elaborate tunnel systems he and Spock and seen down there.
That, however, was going to have to be a job for someone else, because Jim was not planning to spend another minute on that wretched planet, no matter how pretty the flora. Though his First Officer was most likely going to request another expedition, ever the scientist that he was.
Speaking of-
Looking over, he could see Spock start to stir. Jim swung his legs off his bed and hobbled over to the other, steadying himself with an arm on the wall. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, just as the Vulcan slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden brightness.
“Hey there,” Jim greeted, smiling softly.
“Hello, Jim,” came Spock’s still sleepy response.
The human in question started looking around to check whether the med bay was still empty, before cupping Spock’s face, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead, which earned him a soft purr in return. Spock leaned into Jim’s hand a bit more, which made his heart flutter a little.
“You should get some more rest,” Jim said, his thumb stroking Spock’s cheek.
He was just about to lift himself off the mattress, when he felt a tug on his arm. Jim looked at Spock, who just stared at him for a moment.
“Could you...stay, for a while, please,” he asked, averting his gaze. Jim huffed fondly, amusement in his eyes, before laying down next to Spock and wrapping his arms around him gently, burying his face in the crook of his neck, before whispering “of course, love.”
He could feel Spock snuggle up next to him, humming happily, before closing his eyes again.
Jim let out a sigh, letting his own eyes fall shut and relishing the warmth of the body pressed up against him, feeling the rise and fall of Spock's chest.
He was right where he was meant to be.