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Meditation is a key component to Vulcan culture, a daily ritual; Spock is no exception to this. Given his Captain’s propensity for sleeping late and their tendency to spend a significant portion of the day in each other's company, it has been Spock’s standing practice to engage in meditation in the early hours of the ship's day.
Today was no exception; that afternoon they would be arriving at Horkut IV and embarking on a multi day stay on the planet's surface. Having slept a sufficient nights sleep, Spock completes his morning ablutions and settles onto his mat to begin his meditation before embarking on what is sure to be a busy day.
Clearing his mind, he swiftly recounts the previous day's events and sifts through the information he absorbed throughout the day. Human brains, Spock knows, do something similar as part of their sleep cycle; by being more proactive in the sorting of information in their minds, Vulcans have superior recall to humans as a result. Spock sorts the information into broad categories, shifting his experiences of the day into Ships Business, Science Related, Social Interactions, and last but not least, Jim.
Spock is meticulous with his processing and assessment of each experience, taking them apart and putting them back together until he is satisfied that he will retain every aspect of the event. He swiftly completes his analysis of the previous day, before attempting to tackle the one subject that he refuses to rush; Jim Kirk.
Methodically, he repeats each interaction with his Captain from the day previous. Behaviors that have been observed in the past are lovingly tucked away in his mind for a ‘rainy day’ as his mother would say; new behaviors are meticulously analyzed.
One such new act being the actions of Jim’s feet the evening before. Sitting at the table over a game of chess, this time in Spock's quarters, the captain had kicked his feet out in a sprawling fashion. Where normally he would do so to the side of the table, the evening prior, Jim’s bare feet had instead stretched towards Spock's own. Jim had tangled their legs together under the table, slouched as he was in his seat from the relaxing heat of the Vulcans quarters. Though not as strong as it would have been if he’d been touching Jim with his hands, Spock had been able to discern a feeling of warmth and utter contentment from his captain and friend.
He paused in his replaying of the memory to evaluate this; as usual, the Captain’s unique ability to bypass and wiggle through Spock's mental shields was perplexing. Despite years of rigid discipline and constant interaction with humans having strengthened his ability to guard his telepathy, Spock was nigh defenseless against the Captains mind. It wasn’t as if Jim was particularly strong in psionic abilities; the issue seemed to stem more from Spock's own mind as it reached for Jim.
Constantly.
No sooner would Jim enter a room or Spock's awareness and it felt as if something were attempting to break free from its confines within his mind and stretch towards the captain. Spock theorized that this may actually be part of the reason for his daemon’s fascination with the man. She desired constant attention from Jim, would hardly leave his side if Jim was near enough to Spock that it did not stretch the link between daemon and Vulcan to the point of unpleasantness.
Spock filed that away with another thought that he had previously analyzed; since serving on the Enterprise, the range that he was comfortable and able to function without his daemon nearby had increased exponentially. Andariel had always circled Spock like a satellite, never more than a few arms lengths away. But that distance had stretched to accommodate her desire, Spock's desire, to be closer to the captain.
Returning his focus to the evening before, Spock continued to replay the memory of his game of chess against Jim. Spock had won the first round, and lost in the rematch that the captain insisted he was owed. The loss was only partially due to the Captains unorthodox play style; Spock could attribute a lack of concentration on his part to the unfettered touch of Jim's bare calves to his own bare ankles.
Jim often wore soft looking and well worn pajamas into the Vulcans' warmer quarters; more often than not, he would roll the hems up to his knees for ‘air flow’. The resulting revelation of pale skin and lean muscle had cost Spock more than one chess match, Vulcan discipline helpless in the face of such casual intimacy. When the fine hairs on Jim’s legs had first brushed against Spock's skin, the sensation was so absolutely unique and unfamiliar that Spock had closed his eyes and focused solely on the sensation.
Thankfully, it had been Jim’s turn, and deciding on how to outmaneuver Spock's Queen with only a Knight, two pawns, and a King left on the table had taken him some time. Time enough for Spock to compose himself and still promptly lose the game anyway. Spock had decided early on in their friendly competition that losing to Jim was perfectly acceptable; no doubt he would glean some insight into the Captains strategies and eventually be able to beat him consistently.
Though he could admit to himself, in the privacy of his mind, that Jim’s exaltation over every victory won had some bearing on the decision. Those bare feet had kicked excitedly as the captain threw his hands up in the universal earth gesture for ‘goal!’. His antics had shaken Andariel, who lay sprawled in his lap, but she had merely gurgled impatiently at him and resettled herself.
Spock found himself wishing that he could resettle as easily; but the bare press of Jim’s skin left a hunger burning in Spock that he was reluctant to address. To face the betrayal of one's own mind sabotaging its protections in an effort to form a connection with another’s was one thing; the Vulcan mind was a powerful thing. But the Spock's body was usually held to an equally strict discipline.
Vulcans were capable even of slowing their very blood flow from a wound to lessen the loss of blood from an injury; Jim’s proximity had the unfortunate effect of drawing Spock’s blood as often to his cheeks as to… more troublesome parts of his anatomy. The intense desire he felt to make and hold contact with Jim’s skin was terrifying for a Vulcan who had spent his entire lifetime forming a rigid discipline over his body to cover his human heritage's shortcomings.
Though countless hours had been spent in meditation over the matter, Spock had no solution. Jim was free with his physical affection with many of the crew, and despite the feelings that seeped through even the slightest contact between the two, Spock knew that feelings did not always equal intent. Especially with the cultural differences concerning casual touch between Vulcans and humans. Just because Jim touched him constantly did not mean that he felt anything deeper than friendship for the Vulcan.
Nyota was a good friend to Spock. And he had other friends amongst the crew, the most unlikely and unexpected being the ship's chief medical officer. But, defiant as ever to conform to any quantifiable categorization, Jim was simply… more.
More than a shipmate, more than a captain, more than a friend. As close and loyal as a brother and as affectionate as a lov…
Spock froze.
Oh.
Oh.