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Jim reached for the incessantly beeping alarm clock on his nightstand, fingers lingering for a moment over the snooze button before resolving to turn the contraption off for good. With a tired groan, Jim blinked his eyes opening, taking in the view of his dormitory bedroom in the soft morning light.
The room was small, but he had carefully curated the space to be his own sanctuary, away from the large lecture halls and crowded corridors of the academy. A narrow bed took up was pushed against the back corner of the room, with a nightstand and desk adjacent. There was a wardrobe behind the door, with some extra storage space in the form of drawers under the bed. When Jim arrived at the beginning of the school year, he had discovered with disappointment the many places on the walls where the paint had been ripped off by prior residents’ carelessness. Jim covered the spots with posters, and stuck pictures of his friends from back home against the back of the door. In the months since, Jim’s bedroom had become a place of peace and calm, and the first place that had ever been truly his.
Putting his feet on the rough carpeted floor, Jim shivered in the cool air. He wished more than anything that he could go back to bed, but he knew he had slacked off too much during winter semester to miss any more classes. He shuffled to the communal bathroom and winced at the fluorescents that pierced his still-waking-up eyes. Jim made quick work of using the facilities, giving his teeth a brush and splashing cold water over his face.
“Shit,” he murmured, glancing at his reflection in the smudged mirror.
Jim looked a little worse for the wear. His slightly greasy blond hair was sticking up in all kinds of directions, and his face was swollen from the night of sleep. The bags under his eyes were the least fixable of his appearance, even next to the acidic smell of his underarms.
Back in his bedroom, Jim did what he could to appear presentable for a day at school. He dressed, applied deodorant, brushed what he could of his short hair, and packed his bag, mentally running through what he needed for each class. Jim’s mind hesitated at his recollection of advanced astrophysics, remembering suddenly why he had bothered to set his alarm for so early.
Blushing, memories of a certain fourth year science major flooded into Jim’s head. The older boy was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and a particular voice that a caused another, very different type of shiver, to run through Jim’s body.
They had met in an advanced astrophysics lecture a few weeks ago. The boy, who introduced himself only as “Spock”, sat next to Jim in the crowded hall. They had exchanged a few brief pleasantries, but it was enough to make Jim dutifully attend every lecture thereafter, trying his hardest to sit with the best view of Spock he could find.
Later, after a quick breakfast at the dining hall, Jim scurried to his 0800 class: piloting of major starships. Though the class was one of his favourites, Jim frequently slept through his alarm, leading to the unfortunate reality that is missing important course details. Still, when he was in attendance, Jim tried his best to take diligent notes and listen carefully to the professor for all 75 minutes of the lecture.
Today was much different.
Jim’s head was spinning. He was unable to stop his mind from wandering, picturing the elegant figure and intelligent face of Spock, advanced astrophysics boy. Jim surrendered to the fantasies, imagining Spock’s delicate fingers ghosting over Jim’s body, or how his stoic face might look after being kissed and touched by Jim.
Feeling heat begin to pool in his gut, Jim stopped himself from going too far. It was a Thursday morning, for fuck’s sake, he needed to reel it in.
The rest of the class passed by as usual, with Jim distracting himself from his thoughts by scribbling wildly on his Padd, trying to keep up with every word of the professor. Luckily for Jim, the lecture ended a few minutes early, giving him enough time to get himself across campus to the physics building without needing to resort to his usual rushing.
The spring air was cool when Jim stepped outside. It being early in the season, though, the grass was still dry and brown, and the buds on trees were not yet visible. The air smelled like earth, and the sun was warm as it shone on Jim’s face. He felt a rush of joy, as the winter had been long and exhausting.
The walk to the physics building was not terribly exciting, but Jim was still happy to take his time. Students milled about, chatting with each other about the upcoming end of semester and their plans for the break. Jim was beyond excited to be part of Starfleet Academy after so many years of wishing he were already there. He was, like most 18 year olds, more than eager to establish his individuality and move away from home. And though the first few weeks of school were lonely and stress inducing, Jim had managed to make a good number of friends, attend parties, and get to know San Francisco in just a matter of months.
Jim’s general good mood turned into a bout of pure exhilaration upon entering the physics building, however, and his stomach twisted as he walked through the corridors to the lecture hall where advanced astrophysics was about to begin.
Arriving at the door, Jim opened it and crept inside. His eyes scanned the room for Spock, but his heart sank as there was no sign of him amongst the seated cadets.
“Excuse me,” a voice behind Jim suddenly stated.
Jim whipped around, startled, forgetting that he was blocking the entrance to the hall. Upon doing so, his heart started pounding in his chest as he came face to face with fellow student, and the object of all of Jim’s current fantasies, Spock.
“Sorry,” Jim murmured, eyes wide.
“It is quite alright,” Spock said, and cocked his head at the recognition of a familiar face. “You are… James Kirk?” He asked.
“That’s right,” Jim beamed, elated that Spock remembered him.
There was an awkward beat of silence as Jim tried to build up the courage to ask Spock if he wanted to sit with him. Unfortunately, his one track mind forgot that he was in fact still blocking the entrance.
Spock cleared his throat and asked, “do you require assistance in finding a place to sit, James?”
Jim blushed, embarrassed but also thrilled at hearing his name spoken by the boy.
“It’s Jim, and no I’m alright, sorry, just a little tired,” he said awkwardly, stepping out of the way to let Spock pass.
The boy did not move, however, instead asking, “Jim, would you like to sit with me?” While making strong and unwavering eye contact with his classmate.
A flurry of butterflies began flapping their wings wildly in Jim’s stomach as his face heated up further. It was too perfect. Jim wondered what prompted Spock to ask him that, but he was not about to think about it for a long time, as the answer to the boy’s question was clear.
“Sure,” Jim replied, feigning nonchalance.
As they walked down the stairs next to the many rows of seats, Jim could hardly contain himself. It was just like his fantasies, except that in his fantasies this part would only be a precursor to Jim inviting Spock back to his dorm. Luckily in real life, this was more than enough for him to feel excitement course through his body.
The two decided on seats in a middle row, and the lecture begin quickly afterwards, with the professor jumping into a long tangent on the importance of knowledge of a celestial body’s chemical composition. Jim was immediately tuned out, focused instead on the boy next to him. He tried to steal inconspicuous glances at Spock, even if it was just his elegant hands or shoulder. Suffice it to say, Jim had never learned less in a class in all his life than he did in that one.
When the professor concluded the lecture and students began shuffling about, packing up bags and scurrying eagerly out of the room, Jim turned to his companion, anticipation building within him that this would not be the end of their time together.
“Got any other classes today?” he asked casually.
Spock turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “I do not,” he replied.
Jim’s shoulders sagged.
This guy is impossible to make small talk with. He must be Vulcan or something , he thought to himself.
“I am now going to study on the fourth floor of this building,” Spock said, standing from his seat and swinging his bag onto his shoulder.
There we go , Jim thinks.
“The fourth floor? I’ve only ever been up to the second,” he says.
Spock turns again to look at him, “You should visit the upper floors. There are comfortable spaces available, allowing one to sit next to the large windows that I find to be the ideal environment for a quiet study session,” he explained.
Jim just stared up at the boy, affection swelling in his chest.
“You could show me,” he said, suddenly overwhelmed by bravery. Or maybe it was just desperation to get in the guy’s pants, Jim wasn’t sure.
Spock considered this for a moment, and then nodded quickly as Jim hurried to pack up his things.
They travelled to the fourth floor without exchanging too many words. Jim was not usually quiet, but his nervousness around Spock made him feel unlike himself, preoccupied with thoughts of what the other cadet’s impressions of him might be. Spock himself was not a big talker, as Jim had already deduced, but the silence was still somewhat awkward.
Stepping out of the turbolift, Spock gestured to Jim to follow him down the corridor. They walked side by side as Spock led them around corners, past classrooms, and other students.
Eventually, the two came to a more secluded area at the end of a short hallway. The space contained large windows, like Spock said. The windows all had very deep sills, and suddenly Jim could picture Spock sitting in one, curled up slightly like a cat, bent over his Padd while deep in thought.
“This is where I like to spend my time,” the older boy announced, and Jim gazed at him.
The midday sun was shining through the glass, and Jim allowed himself a long moment to take in Spock’s features. He had such beautiful, dark eyes which each featured a slight downturn at the corners. His bone structure was fine and delicate, with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. A large yet elegant nose was sculpted beautifully in the center of his face, above full lips and a brush of near-undetectable stubble. Jim was correct about him being Vulcan, as Spock sported pointy ears, framed by a precise cut of his thick, jet black hair.
Spock fixed his own gaze on the younger cadet, aware of Jim’s staring.
“Jim,” he began.
Jim blushed, embarrassed of his blatant gushing.
“I’m sorry!” He blurted. “I just zoned out.”
Spock said nothing and instead walked over to a windowsill. He sat down on it, facing Jim as if he was about to reprimand him for being rude.
“There is nothing wrong with looking at someone,” he said instead.
Jim’s curiosity was piqued, and he took a few steps to stand closer to the boy.
“From your body language over the course of the past 18 days I have come to understand you are infatuated with me. Your behaviour towards me is justified,” Spock stated matter-of-factly.
Jim was more than mortified. The accusation in that monotone voice was much less romantic than what Jim had hoped Spock’s discovery of his feelings would produce.
“I-,” Jim faltered, embarrassment sending waves of heat into his face and turning his gut.
Spock waited patiently, his eyes not falling from Jim’s uneasy figure. The latter was actively trying not to flee from humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” Jim said finally. “I shouldn’t have been so weird to you, I should have known it would make you uncomfortable,” he fixed his gaze on the floor, not daring to look the boy in the eye.
Spock sighed quietly. “Jim, you have done nothing wrong. There is no need to apologize. I simply wanted to spare you the pain of human pining,” he said.
If Jim could be even more embarrassed, he was after being patronized like a child who had done something they should have known not to do.
Fall for a Vulcan, get your heart shattered , Jim thought cynically.
There was a beat of silence as Spock let Jim fidget with his hands and consider a response that had the potential to restore a shred of his dignity.
“Jim,” Spock started, snapping Jim out of his spiral of anxious thoughts.
“Will you please come closer to me?” Spock asked.
Jim obeyed, wondering as he stepped forward if this was so that Spock could somehow humiliate him even more intimately and deeply. When he was just a foot away from the older boy, Jim finally, bravely met his dark eyes.
A shock was sent through Jim as he detected something tender within those eyes, even something desperate under the surface. His gaze shifted lower, and Jim noticed with a spike in his heartrate that the boy was gently holding out two of fingers.
Oh my god he wants to kiss me , Jim thought, his brain short circuiting.
“Spock,” he said under his breath, hardly believing that his dreams were coming true.
The Vulcan just kept staring, the need in his eyes growing the longer Jim made him wait.
Finally, Jim pressed two of his own fingers to the other boy’s, Spock making just the quietest gasp at the contact.
Heat rose in Jim’s cheeks as he pressed himself closer, working his knee gently between Spock’s legs. The contact of their fingers was not at all like holding hands with another human, Jim noticed. He could feel a surge of energy strike its way through the point of contact, snaking up his arm, through his chest, and eventually releasing a burst of ecstasy in his brain. Jim figured he would never want to kiss another human again.
Jim’s all too human need for kisses using the lips had not vanished entirely, and without a second thought he lifted Spock’s chin with his free hand, brushing a thumb over his soft, slightly parted lips.
Spock was flushed green, long eyelashes fluttering, and Jim would be more than happy if this was the only thing he would ever see again.
Eventually, Jim’s desire overtook him, and he pressed his lips against the other boy’s.
Spock was clearly not an experienced kisser in this way, and the realization that Jim might be the first to do this with him sent a thrill down the human’s spine.
After a moment of both cadets being completely swept up in the kiss, they broke apart gently.
Jim noticed again the blush across Spock’s cheeks, and his half-lidded dark eyes seemingly looking far away. He thought those eyes looked like deep space, and suddenly yearned to be on a starship with Spock, perhaps working together as ensigns, sharing chaste looks of longing across rooms.
Jim chuckled despite himself.
“Was I not satisfactory?” Spock asked.
Jim looked at him, horrified the boy would even consider that would be the reason for Jim’s amusement.
“No! I mean, you were incredible, Spock, I’m sorry,” Jim reassured.
Jim detected a hint of a smile on the Vulcan’s usually emotionless face. His heart leapt.
“As were you,” Spock responded.
Jim sat down next to his companion, swinging his feet up to sit cross-legged, leaning against the glass. The sun warmed his back and he closed his eyes.
“Are you infatuated with me, Spock?” Jim teased, eyes still closed.
If Jim’s eyes were open, he would be able to see Spock’s cheeks flush green once again, and watch the boy shift uncomfortably, gazing at the golden haired human slouched against the window.
But Jim’s eyes were closed, and so what he felt instead was a brush of fingers against his, and the warmth not only of the sunlight but also of a tall, lanky, sweet young Vulcan leaning into him.