Work Text:
“YOU NEVER LOVED HER!”
The noise that Spock made was thunder and crashing landslides and pure rage in the form of sound. It was an inhuman, deafening roar that resonated in Jim’s very chest.
Stunned, Jim hardly saw the fist before it was inches from his face. His body reacted swiftly to the pain though. He blocked the next blow and tried to hit back, but Spock was too fast. The Vulcan’s face was murderous, contorted in a way Jim had never even imagined.
Actual fear clawed its way into Jim’s chest. He had purposefully goaded Spock; regardless, this was much more than he bargained for. Spock might actually kill him.
Almost as soon as the thought crossed Jim’s mind, Spock forcefully threw him against a console. Jim immediately tried to get up, only to be pinned back down by his throat.
The more you panic, the faster you run out of air, Jim’s mind helpfully reminded him while he spluttered and struggled. Tears sprung in the corners of Jim’s eyes. Pain grew and grew in his head, in his lungs, around his throat. His ears rang, but he could still hear a low growl from above him.
Then, the hand around his throat suddenly released.
****
On some vague level, Jim knew that Vulcans were descended from cats. There were some similarities of course—the aloofness, the pointed ears, the sharp canines—but that wasn’t something Jim dwelled on. He didn’t dwell on it for the same reason he didn’t dwell on how humans were descended from apes.
Getting roared at by one furious Vulcan did spark some curiosity in Jim though.
That was normal. Totally normal. It was normal to become curious about personal experiences. Especially life-threatening ones. Who wouldn’t want to know more about the species of the person who almost killed them?
This absolutely wasn’t going to be a weird obsession.
…Anyway, Jim had a totally normal, scientific curiosity about the feline characteristics of Vulcans.
Thus, he went on a research binge after the events of the Narada. There were a lot of historical accounts theorizing about the catlike characteristics that Vulcans could have inherited from their ancestors. These accounts ranged from respectful to downright perverted, and the Vulcans responded with scathing retorts about how sad humanity’s efforts to other them were.
These retorts made Jim very self-conscious. He reassured himself with the fact that his research came from a place of genuine curiosity.
Eventually, the Vulcan Embassy came out with medical texts regarding Vulcan anatomy. This answered a lot of questions while also creating more. Someone went over the diagrams of Vulcan vocal cords and noted that they were similar to those of big cats. In theory, that meant that Vulcans had the ability to roar.
This theory was never addressed by the Vulcans.
Theory confirmed, Jim supposed. What came out of Spock’s mouth on that day was nothing short of a roar.
Overall, there were a few solid facts in those accounts. It was mostly hearsay, and Jim was left wanting more. He had so many questions and no one to answer them. Old Spock had asked that Jim keep his distance. This request had hurt like hell—he felt like he’d been given a glimpse of something beautiful only to have it torn from him—that being said, Jim understood why Old Spock wouldn’t want to constantly see a bastardized version of his dearest friend.
That left a handful of Vulcans that Jim knew personally, including his universe’s Spock. Jim doubted any of them would want to answer his questions though. He wasn’t exactly close with any of them. His relationship with this reality’s Spock had just barely been promoted to “cordial”. There was no way he was risking that with stupid questions like “is your tongue rough?”
Not being able to answer the questions he had just made Jim dwell on the subject more. As he and Spock started working side-by-side, he couldn’t help but compare Spock to a cat. There was the obvious Vulcan aloofness. There was also the way Spock got territorial—borderline hissy—over his science projects. In social settings, Spock would hang around the edge of the group, playing the silent observer unless the activity/topic truly interested him.
Those little, feline characteristics could all be Jim’s speculation though. That’s all it could be unless he and Spock grew close enough for him to ask his questions.
Yeah, Jim doubted that would ever happen.
Maybe, one day, he would just throw caution to the wind and hack some Vulcan databases.
****
There were times when Jim couldn’t sleep at night. In all honesty, he had never been good at falling asleep. Everything he had lived through growing up didn’t help this. So, on those nights when sleep was extra difficult, Jim sat on the Observation deck and stared out into the universe. Watching the stars streak by in streams of light.
Few people hung around the Observations deck at that time of night, or maybe his crew just didn’t want to disturb their captain. Either way, Jim didn’t expect anyone to join him there.
Then, there came a night when someone did. While he didn’t hear or see anything, Jim felt the prickling feeling of being watched. He turned his head slightly and saw a familiar silhouette.
Their eyes met, but Spock didn’t say anything. He seemed to be waiting.
There was a long moment where Jim’s hands fiddled with his pant legs before he said, “...the room’s big enough for both of us.”
“I do not desire conversation.”
“I mean, me neither. I’m not exactly here for the crowds.”
Tilting his head, Spock stared into his soul. The light of passing stars reflected in Spock’s dark eyes, painted silver streaks in his jet black hair.
Eventually, Spock sat down in a chair on the other side of the room. Jim kept looking at him. He was waiting for…something. For Spock to ask him to leave or give some kind of sign that he was annoyed with Jim’s presence.
That didn’t happen. Spock resolutely kept looking out the window, so Jim eventually forced himself to do the same.
****
Somehow, that night broke a barrier between them. Spock started popping up whenever Jim had his midnight starwatching sessions, which made the Captain go more and more.
Gradually, Spock started sitting closer. They still didn’t talk, but Jim thought the closing distance meant that Spock was getting more comfortable with him.
Then, the Vulcan started sitting with Jim during meals. It was usually when Uhura wasn’t there, but that still meant he got to spend more time in Spock’s company. This naturally led to them having more conversations.
Surprisingly, they found a lot to talk about. Their conversations flowed well once they actually got started.
Jim was ecstatic to see a glimpse of that closeness their counterparts had. They’d probably never get to that level, but they might actually have a friendship! Spock even suggested that they play a game of chess together sometime!
One chess game turned into two, which turned into a weekly tradition. What started as friendly competition became the solidification of their friendship. Jim found himself confiding to Spock over that chessboard. And, Spock proved himself to be a damn good person to confide in.
Sure, they didn’t usually see eye-to-eye, but that was part of why Jim liked telling Spock things! Spock brought a new perspective that either helped Jim find the flaws in his own reasoning or gave him the words to define why he was sticking to his guns.
Of course, Spock could be fucking judgmental and snooty about his advice. That was fine though. Jim could be juvenile and short-tempered. They both had their flaws.
During a lull in one of their regular chess games, Spock asked Jim, “Would you happen to have any spare time, Captain?”
“Yeah, I’m spending it with you. Right now.”
Spock sent him a look that said Jim wasn’t as funny as he thought he was. With an exasperated air, the Vulcan placed a PADD on the table and said, “I am in the nascent stages of an experiment, and I would have your thoughts on the matter.”
“Oh, um.” Although they talked about work over their chess games sometimes, it felt weird for Spock to bring an official request to him here. “I’m sure it’s great, Spock. You don’t have to come to me for permission on experiments though. I trust that you’re not going to blow up the ship.”
Drawing up a little straighter, Spock said, “In no way would this experiment endanger the ship.”
“I didn’t say it would! Because I know you wouldn’t do something like that, you don’t have to go through me for this sort of thing.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before Spock looked down at the board and said, “I was not seeking your opinion in an official capacity, though that is also welcome. I…had thought you might provide some insight on this prospective project. You are an innovative individual.”
Wait, had Spock just been trying to get his opinion? Like, the way Jim asked his opinion on things? Jim hadn’t considered that Spock would value his input the way Jim valued his.
“Of course, I understand that you are often busy—”
“I’m not too busy to look this over,” Jim said quickly , snatching the PADD before Spock could take it back. “Besides, I’m sure it’ll be super interesting. A lot of your projects are.”
The Vulcan seemed a bit taken aback by that. He probably hadn’t expected Jim to pay attention to his projects. Spock soon regained his composure though, saying, “Feel free to read at your leisure, I will not be implementing this project for some time.”
“Okay,” Jim said, knowing full well he’d be staying up after their chess match to read it.
****
Sometimes, you dealt with local sapients. Sometimes, you dealt with tentacle-bears whose territory you accidentally stumbled into.
Jim honestly wasn’t sure which he preferred. Probably the one that wasn’t currently trying to kill him.
Spock and the Ensign Moreau were safely on the other side of the clearing, but Jim was backed up against a cliff face. The lumbering creature covered in green fur slowly approached. Its writhing, tentacle-like appendages lashed out towards Jim. They would be able to grab him in a matter of moments. Jim wasn’t looking forward to figuring out how this creature would kill and/or eat him should it catch him.
Outside of standing around and waiting to be caught, Jim had a few options. He could try to climb and get killed immediately, try to run to the others and get killed immediately, or make a mad dash for his phaser—which was about 20 feet away—and get killed immediately.
Deciding that he had the best odds with the phaser, Jim made a break for it. He knew he wasn’t fast enough though. He could feel the shift in the air as one of the creature’s appendages reached for him.
Out of nowhere, a deafening roar filled the air.
Jim could hear the creature whip around, preparing to fight something bigger and badder than the human it had been chasing. He knew that the creature would find one trembling ensign and one incredibly loud Vulcan. It wouldn’t be able to reach the pair though.
Grinning in triumph, Jim used the distraction to snatch his phaser and fire it at the creature. Its body fell to the ground with a resounding thud.
Letting his shoulders fall in relief, Jim blew out a long breath. He met Spock’s gaze over the creature’s unconscious body and gave the Vulcan a thumbs-up.
****
Jim had some scratches—“they’re called ‘lacerations’, nitwit”—so he had to stop by Sickbay. Spock lingered during said visit. He lingered in that way he did when he had something to say. The Captain wondered what the matter was. Spock didn’t seem.
Once Bones stepped away, Spock finally said, “Though it was unavoidable, I…apologize if my actions caused you distress.”
“Um,” this was new. People didn’t usually apologize to Jim. Especially when Jim had no clue what they were talking about. “Which actions?”
“My intimidation of the creature,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow like he couldn’t believe Jim didn’t know what he was talking about. “It is a tactic I have used against you in the past.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Right, the roaring. “It’s okay, Spock. I wasn’t distressed by that.”
“It would be understandable if the sound held negative connotations for yourself.”
“The connotations I hold with that sound are ‘Spock’s going to fuck shit up’, and that’s pretty positive to me. As long as you’re on my side.”
The Vulcan stared at Jim, probably trying to decide if that was reasonable or batshit crazy. It was probably both, but who gave a fuck?
****
Overall, Jim and Spock reached a good equilibrium in their first year as a command team. What they had wasn’t universe-consuming stuff, but Jim could honestly say that Spock had quickly become one of his best friends, rivaling only Bones.
Jim hadn’t always believed that he made the right choice by going into Starfleet. When he met Spock’s gaze across the Bridge though? He knew he was exactly where he needed to be.
“Mr. Spock, report on our next destination.”
“Yes, sir. Neighboring systems have deemed the planet ‘Nibiru’. An M-class planet whose population is in an era comparable to pre-Bronze era Earth.”
****
Six months after the Khan incident…
“Is something going on with you and Spock?”
Jim paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. He put it down and frowned at his friend, “You always do this.”
Returning his frown, Bones asked, “Do what?”
“You ask me to ‘go out for drinks’, and then it turns into you trying to interrogate me.”
“We go out for drinks all of the time.”
“Ah-ha!” Jim said, pointing at Bones triumphantly. “You’re not denying that you’re trying to interrogate me!”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bones said, “Yeah, cause I, your best friend, can’t ask you personal questions.”
“Not while I’m drunk and vulnerable.”
That got Bones to roll his eyes. Jim wasn’t even halfway through his beer. Even though this was the first time they were having drinks following the whole death and resurrection thing, they both knew that wouldn’t get him drunk.
They also both knew that Jim was avoiding the question, which was why Bones had tried to loosen him up before asking.
“Look, Jim, I’m not here to criticize whatever’s going on with you and the Vulcan.”
“You criticize everything I do.”
“I just want to know—” Bones continued “—that it makes you happy.”
Thumb rubbing nervously on the side of his glass, Jim pressed his lips together. After a few moments, he said, “There’s really nothing going on.”
“Jim—”
“There isn’t,” he insisted.
“He hardly left your side in the hospital,” Bones said. “You spend near every day with each other. I had to practically fight him off to get you to myself tonight. He’s got a fucking toothbrush in your apartment, for Christ’s sake!”
“I told you,” Jim said, getting flustered. “I fell asleep on the couch. He stayed to see if I’d wake up and lost time meditating.”
Jim had woken up the next day to the sunlight painting Spock’s peaceful face. They’d ended up having breakfast together, and Jim offered him a toothbrush and use of his shower.
The fact that Jim hadn’t thrown out the toothbrush didn’t mean they were, like, together or anything. It just meant that Jim was pathetic.
“That’s bullshit: when has Spock ever lost track of time?”
“It could happen!”
“Sure,” Bones said doubtfully. “The point is, something’s changed, and you don’t have to hide it from me!”
“It’s really not what you think,” Jim said.
“What? Is it a fuckbuddies kind of thing?”
“No!”
“Why are you, Mr. Fucksaround, blushing?”
“I’m not blushing!” Jim insisted even though he could feel his face burning. “We’re not fucking, and there’s nothing going on! It’s just—we’re friends, okay? And, Spock’s probably worried and guilty because I literally died!”
Bones looked at Jim for a long moment, face unreadable. He took a drink of his beer before finally saying, “You’re not this dumb, Jim.”
“Hey—!”
“I’m your friend,” Bones interrupted. “I’m worried and guilty because you died. What Spock’s doing, that’s something else. Hell, you should’ve heard him when you died. I swear, he shook the whole ship when he yelled.”
“He yelled?” This was the first time Jim was hearing about it. “What did he yell?”
“You ever just screamed to let out your feelings?” Jim nodded. “It was like that, but times a million. It was like when you goaded him on the Bridge.”
“WHAT?!?”
Spock had roared when he died?!? That was—Jim didn’t know how to feel about that. He was kind of honored in a way? The fact that Spock had such a reaction must mean that the Vulcan cared about him.
And, Jim had known that—that Spock cared—on some level. It was one thing to know that though and another to learn about Spock breaking down because he cared so much.
Even if Spock did care though, that didn’t mean that it was…like that. Jim would definitely fall apart if Bones died, and that wasn’t romantic. What Jim and Spock had was special; nevertheless, Jim didn’t want to read too deeply into it. He didn’t want to project his own hopes onto their friendship.
Not to mention, why would Spock ever want something romantic with Jim? Even though he wasn’t with Uhura anymore, that didn’t mean he wanted Jim. How would that be logical? Or even reasonable?
****
The next morning, Jim met Spock for breakfast. The Vulcan met Jim at the front of the little diner. He put a hand on Jim’s shoulder, guiding him through the small crowd inside. Spock had been doing that—touching Jim more—since the hospital. It had started with Spock helping him walk around during his recovery and then just…never stopped.
Jim liked it. He liked Spock’s broad, warm hand on his shoulder.
Spock’s hand suddenly twitched though, and the Vulcan’s expression subtly soured. “Did Dr. McCoy spend the night at your apartment?”
“Yeah,” Jim said, startled. “My place was closer, so he crashed on my couch. How did you know?”
“Vulcans have a superior sense of smell compared to humans.”
Jim’s old, kind-of-obsession about Vulcans reared its ugly head. Outwardly, he tried to temper it to polite interest. “Oh, cool. I didn’t know that. I wonder how long that took for everyone to figure out. Like, the cultural differences that would create. If you guys can smell who’s been around who, that’s a whole layer of social implications that humans just don’t pick up on.”
“There are several Vulcan records on the subject,” Spock said, taking the seat next to Jim. He’d been doing that more often too: choosing to sit close to Jim. “I could summarize them for you or provide translations.”
“Really?!?” Jim asked, getting very excited. “I would love a translation! There aren’t a ton of public records released about Vulcan’s opinions on Terran culture.”
“I believe that may be due to the fact that the phrasing of such records could be interpreted as condescending.”
“A Vulcan? Condescending?” Jim smirked as he looked right at Spock. “I can’t imagine.”
The light in Spock’s eyes danced with amusement. “It is merely one of several interpretations. Humans are quite prone to assigning emotions to our words.”
“Well, do you want to hear my ‘emotional interpretation’ after I’m done reading them?”
“Undoubtedly. I am certain your interpretation will be insightful.”
“Oh,” the sincerity with which Spock said that threw Jim off guard. He’d expected more teasing banter. It made him feel bashful of all things. “I, um, thanks.”
****
Jim had expected Spock to be less…attentive once they got back to the Enterprise. He was sure that those feelings of guilt and worry would lessen, Spock would start to spend less time with him, and then the Vulcan and Uhura would get back together.
That didn’t happen though.
Well, the Uhura thing could still happen: they seemed pretty friendly for exes.
What didn’t happen was Spock putting distance between himself and Jim. In fact, he tried to claim as much of Jim’s spare time as he could. He even tried to tag along to a drinking session with Bones, which Jim put a firm stop to. Watching Spock and Bones bicker was fun, but he also needed alone time with his favorite doctor.
It was…nice though, having Spock seek him out so much. A part of Jim was worried that this was still the guilt. That Spock was dealing with his feelings by doting on him.
Jim tried to push those worries aside though and focus on work. They’d gotten a decent amount of transfers for the five year mission, and Jim wanted to make sure the old and new crew members meshed well.
One of their new crew members was a Dr. Carol Wallace. It seemed she had officially changed her name following the whole debacle with her father. Jim couldn't blame her. He could relate all too well with not wanting to be associated with a well-known father. At least Jim’s dad wasn’t well-known for treason and collaboration with a superhuman maniac though.
As Jim helped the new crew members integrate into the crew, he found himself paying a little more attention to Carol. Something about her felt…off. She worked hard and got along with most people, but there were alarms going off in Jim’s head whenever he was around her.
It bothered Jim, so he paid more attention to her. This was how he ended up noticing things about her. He noticed how she was rarely in the rec room; how she wore more makeup than she did when they first met; how her eyes would go a little distant when people weren’t talking to her.
Finally, one morning, things clicked in Jim’s head.
Jim bumped into Carol in the hallway, and there was a familiar smell…
The woman tried to mumble an excuse and slip away, but Jim caught her by the arm.
Carol looked startled. She quickly regained composure though and said, “Excuse me, Captain, I have to get to my station.”
“I—” Jim frantically tried to think of an excuse to pull her aside. “—I have something I need to ask you, Dr. Wallace. I’m sure Mr. Spock wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a few minutes.”
While she looked like she wanted to protest, Carol nodded.
Jim guided her to the nearest spare room, and she followed with the air of a prisoner about to be executed. She grew especially tense when Jim locked the door behind them.
He took a seat and gestured for her to do the same. After she reluctantly did so, Jim said, “Carol, you can’t go on like this.”
There was a long moment before she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cut the shit, Lieutenant. No one who’s okay drinks that much Andorian Ale.”
“How did you know?” Tears started gathering in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her posture curled defensively.
“I could smell it on your breath.” It must’ve been one of the first times she had indulged in Andorian spirits. They had a strong, distinctive smell that lasted even to the morning after. Jim knew from experience that you had to brush your teeth like six times to get rid of it.
“I swear I only drink off shift, sir!”
“I know.”
“I wouldn’t go on shift drunk.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
“Then,” Carol sniffed as her tears started to spill over. “Why are you reprimanding me?”
“I’m not reprimanding you,” Jim said. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but he suspected that this wasn’t one night of drinking.
Carol had just gone through a devastating change in her life. She was withdrawing from those around her. Jim would bet the broken, abandoned farm that he inherited that she wasn’t sleeping well. That makeup was probably covering up the dark circles under her eyes.
Given all of that, Carol could very easily get caught in a self-destructive spiral. Jim would know. Because he knew what it was like to be caught in those kind of spirals, he couldn’t ignore what this woman was going through. “I want to help you, Carol”
“I—I—” The tears kept coming, and Carol wiped them away with the heel of her palm. “—I don’t know what you can do. I can’t seem to stop. It’s—I’ve never—I’ve never fallen apart like this before.”
Gently taking her hand, he squeezed it reassuringly. Jim didn’t say anything for a while; he just let Carol cry her heart out.
****
For Carol’s sake, Jim kept her circumstances on the down-low. He wanted her to get the help she needed, but he knew how shitty it could be to have people talking about you. Therefore, he didn’t make it an official order for her to seek out the ship’s counselor.
Jim did let her know that he would make it an order if she didn’t seek help on her own. As a captain, Jim couldn’t let a crew member spiral and potentially endanger themselves or others.
Outside of the counselling, Jim also tried to help in his own way. He didn’t force her to sit down for heart-to-hearts or nag her about keeping her appointments. What Jim did was spend some time with her. When he saw her in the mess hall, he invited her to sit with him. If the bridge crew made plans to play cards, he would try to include her.
When things were bad, sometimes, what you needed most was a friend.
Spock, ever observant, seemed confused by Jim’s sudden efforts to include Carol. Dare Jim say it, he thought Spock looked irritated with it.
Upon noticing this, Jim had answered Spock’s unasked question of why he was doing this by saying, “She looks like she could use some friends.”
The Vulcan’s expression had softened as he looked at Jim and said, “I see.”
Despite that professed understanding, Spock still seemed to get irritated with Carol’s presence. Jim figured that was probably because he didn’t know her well. Spock really hated strangers intruding on his regular stomping grounds. Jim didn’t want to explain the whole situation to Spock. Carol deserved her privacy. Besides, Spock would get used to Carol eventually.
Around this time, Jim’s paperwork started to pile up, and he suddenly had zero spare time. Hell, he barely had time for sleep let alone socializing.
After a couple of days, the sleep deprivation started to set in, and Spock caught Jim nodding off at breakfast. The Vulcan subtly frowned, guilt in his eyes, and said, “Apologies, Captain, I recently began investing more time in personal projects and neglected to contribute to the influx of paperwork.”
“It’s okay.” Jim yawned again. “I’m the captain: it’s my job.”
Leaning in close, Spock softened his tone to say, “You may delegate your tasks as you see fit. That is also an essential command skill.”
“I’ve always been bad at delegating,” Jim admitted thoughtlessly, his sleep-deprived brain focusing on the shape of Spock’s lips.
“It is never too late to develop a skill,” Spock remarked. “For now, I will aid you in these tasks.”
“Thanks,” Jim mumbled. He hoped to god he wasn’t blushing. Fuck, they were talking about paperwork. This wasn’t the time to be blushing.
****
Although a few weeks passed, Spock still didn’t seem thrilled with Carol. The Vulcan got this look on his face that was kind of a glare and kind of a sulk whenever Jim spent any time with her.
If Jim didn’t know better, he’d think that Spock was jealous. But, that didn’t make sense. Spock didn’t act like this with Bones or the other crew members. Why should Carol be any different? Jim couldn’t puzzle it out for the life of him.
Things came to a head one night though.
Jim had sat next to Carol in the rec room, and they got wrapped up in a conversation. Carol was laughing at a ridiculous story he was telling. She seemed to be doing so much better than she had a few weeks ago. Like the burdens she was carrying were lighter. Her cheeks were rosy with laughter.
Then, the atmosphere changed. Carol’s amusement fizzled, and then she was looking at him intently. Very intently. She put her hand over his and started to lean forward. Her eyes closed.
FUCK, she was trying to kiss him! That wasn’t what Jim was trying to do here! This was so fucking unethical on several levels!
Before Jim could put a stop to the attempted kiss, the room filled with a bone-vibrating, eardrum-bursting roar.
Startled, everyone turned to look at Spock. The Vulcan was panting, his hands shaking, as he glared at Carol with pure rage.
The woman turned pale, and Jim stood from his seat. He took a step towards Spock, only for the Vulcan to suddenly turn around and stalk away.
Jim ran after him without a second thought.
“Spock!” Jim called out as he followed the Vulcan.
Spock did not stop, nor did he look back. He kept resolutely walking down the corridor.
Not one to give up easily, Jim caught up and matched pace with the Vulcan, saying, “Spock. Spock, just wait a second. Spock, what’s wrong?”
Abruptly stopping in his tracks, Spock got up in Jim’s face and snarled, “You are asking me ‘what is wrong?’”
“Yes!” Jim said. “You roared out of nowhere, so I’m asking you what gives? What happened?”
The fury in Spock’s eyes faltered. For a long moment, he searched Jim’s face. “You truly do not know?”
“Why would I ask if I already knew?”
“I…” Spock looked so very lost. His brows furrowed, and Jim could practically see him trying to work out some problem in his head. After several moments, he said, “I require meditation. We will speak on this later.”
Jim caught him by the arm and said, “Hey, I’m holding you to that. I’ll make it an order if I have to.”
“That will be unnecessary,” Spock said. “I shall seek you out once my thoughts are ordered.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly, Jim let go and watched Spock walk away.
****
That night, Jim paced his quarters to the point where he was wearing a track on the floor. He knew he wasn’t going to rest well while this stuff with Spock was unresolved. Fuck, Spock had him tied up in knots.
Out of habit, Jim eventually left his quarters for the Observation deck. He didn’t take any work or books with him. There was no way he’d be able to concentrate on anything in this state.
It shouldn’t have surprised Jim that—following a while of blank staring out the window—the door would open. Someone else was joining him. He knew it was Spock without having to look up.
The Vulcan’s tread was near-silent, and Jim saw Spock’s approach out of the corner of his eye. It was only when Spock sat next to him—on the same couch but a good two feet away—that Jim turned to face him.
The moment stretched in tense silence as Jim waited for Spock to speak.
“I had hoped,” Spock finally said, with that fucking starlight reflecting off his eyes again. “That, by staying by your side, you would come to understand my regard. At the very least, I thought I would be able to decipher your own, but I am at a loss. I would have waited as long as was necessary. It is no trial to wait when you are with me; nonetheless, it seems that time is not the only variable I must account for. I have come to the conclusion that it is best to be direct.”
“Spock,” Jim breathed. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but this couldn’t possibly be real, right? Because it almost sounded like—
“I adore you,” Spock said. The Vulcan’s expression was stoic, yet his voice wavered slightly. His hands were clutched together in his lap. “I do not require reciprocation, but I cannot bear the thought that you should never know. I would be more than satisfied to remain by your side in our current arrangement. However,” Spock paused, and Jim realized he was swallowing nervously. “If you would allow me, I will prove myself to you. Evidence suggests that we would have a most satisfactory partnership.”
“Evidence?” Jim echoed, smiling now. Of course Spock would have evidence for why they should date.
“Yes,” Spock straightened up like he was giving a report. “Though we are dissimilar in many ways, our strengths are complimentary.” Jim scooted closer to Spock. “Over our service, I have noted how our interactions have improved my own performance. I have also noted an increase in your competency following my counsel.” Jim moved so that their knees were barely an inch apart. “Additionally, I have found more ease in myself following our social activities. I do not presume to know your emotional state—”
Spock abruptly stopped speaking when Jim placed a hand over the Vulcan’s, still clutched together in a tight ball.
Instantly, Spock’s eyes widened noticeably, his breath catching.
Jim smiled as he said, “I’d say I feel pretty at ease after we hang out.”
“I see,” Spock said absently.
“What else you got?”
“Hmm?” Spock’s gaze raised from where he was staring at their hands, but then he said, “Ah, yes. I would also point out that our values are harmonious. We—” Jim’s thumb started stroking absentmindedly, and Spock abruptly stopped his speech. With desperation leaking into his voice, the Vulcan said, “Please, Jim, do not treat my feelings lightly. I can endure rejection, but do not toy with me. I beg you.”
“Sorry, I’m not trying to toy with you.” Jim said softly. “I want to hear about your evidence, but I’m too impatient.”
Giving into an impulse that had been nagging him for a while, Jim leaned forward and connected their lips.
It only took a moment for Spock to reciprocate. He flipped from still-as-a-statue to desperate in a heartbeat. The Vulcan kissed like it was the relief of all his burdens. Like nothing else mattered. Like this was the most important thing in his life.
His hands unfolded from their tight grip on each other. One intertwined with Jim’s hand. The other found Jim’s hip, squeezing experimentally. A sharp canine bit lightly on Jim’s lower lip, causing the human to moan.
Right when Jim was thinking he needed to come up for air, Spock broke the kiss. He didn’t travel far though. The Vulcan’s face dropped to Jim’s neck, licking, nipping, and kissing.
Jim let out an appreciative hum and then said, “Spock.”
“Yes, Jim?” Was muttered against his skin.
“I adore you too.”
****
“I’m sorry if I caused you and Mr. Spock any troubles, Jim. I didn’t know you were together,” Carol said contritely.
They hadn’t been, but Jim wasn’t about to admit that. It didn’t matter that he had missed Spock trying to woo him: they were very much together now. He had the bite marks to prove it.
Outloud, Jim said, “It’s okay.”
“I don’t even know why I did it really. You’ve just been so…”
“Safe?”
Looking at him ruefully, she said, “Yeah. I guess…I was just looking for some comfort.”
“I get it.” That was something Jim understood. He’d had his fair share of ill-advised hook-ups and relationships for similar reasons.
“I’m thinking of transferring to a more grounded position,” Carol said, brusquely changing the subject.
“Oh. If it’s because of Spock, he understands that—”
“No, no,” Carol said with a laugh. “It’s not because of Commander Spock. But, understanding aside, I don’t think he’s moved past my misstep.”
Both of them glanced at the Vulcan who was blatantly staring—borderline glaring—at them from across the room. Not even pretending to read whatever was on his PADD.
“I just,” Carol continued. “I think it would be a good change of pace for me.”
“Well, I’m not going to argue with you about what’s best for you.” There was a part of Jim that was sad about Carol leaving. They really were becoming friends. He also wanted her to be happy though. “Just…take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will, Captain.”
****
Jim was working on reports at his desk. He was absorbed in the task when the door to his bathroom opened.
Unable to help himself, Jim smiled. He didn’t look up from his work, but he knew who it was. There was the padding of feet. Jim was no longer paying attention to the words in front of him. He was about to look up and address his boyfriend when his chair was abruptly pulled back.
The Captain of the Enterprise very nearly fell face first into his desk. A hand against his chest caught him though and pushed him back into the chair. Then, Spock—in his silky, black sleep robes—straddled Jim’s lap. His knees bracketed Jim’s thighs, and he tucked his face into Jim’s neck. Those large, warm hands snuck up Jim’s shirt to rub up and down his lower back.
“Spock,” Jim said, voice strained. “I need to finish these reports.”
Nuzzling Jim’s neck, Spock said, “You may continue.”
“Thanks for the permission,” Jim replied sarcastically. The issue was more that a lapful of Spock was distracting, which the Vulcan was most likely aware of. He obviously didn’t care though. “So, the cuddling wasn’t just an afterglow thing?”
“Prolonged physical contact triggers the release of hormones that increase attachment. Moreover, the sharing of scents is logical in order to inform others of our commitment to one another.”
The image of a cat rubbing its face against its owner popped up in Jim’s mind. Scenting. That’s what this was. Scenting in addition to whatever clingy tendencies Spock apparently had.
Not that Jim was complaining. Putting the fact that he still had a report to finish aside, Jim had zero objections regarding the state of affairs. If Spock wanted to mark Jim as his and cuddle, that was fine by him. He could write his name on Jim’s forehead with sharpie if he wanted to.
Having Spock act like an affectionate cat did bring a question to the forefront of Jim’s mind though, but he refrained from asking it.
“I cannot,” Spock said out of nowhere.
“Huh?”
“You were wondering if I am capable of purring. I cannot. The vocal structure for roaring felines differs in such a way that they are unable to purr.”
“Huh.” Jim had forgotten about the telepathy for a second. That was interesting though. He wondered what the difference was exactly.
“I can find diagrams for your perusal.”
“Thanks, that’d be nice.” Jim put down his PADD, giving up any pretense of continuing his work. He ran his fingers through Spock’s hair, and the Vulcan snuggled in closer. “It’d be cute if you could purr, but I like that you can roar. It’s badass.”
Maybe he was imagining it, but Jim thought he could feel that Spock was pleased. “It is a useful intimidation tactic.”