How to Inefficiently Acquire a Human Male in 98.6 Earth Days -- Part 3 -- Experiment
Summary: When Jim Kirk joins the xenolinguistics club, Professor Spock is drawn to the cadet despite his better judgment. Soon, Spock finds himself in a friendship he never asked for, a relationship that is quickly evolving into something more than he can handle. In an effort to free himself from Kirk’s persistent affection, Spock makes use of his anthropological research on human relationships, which has unexpected consequences.
Inspired by the movie, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.
Rating: PG
Universe: AOS (Academy AU)
Pairings: Kirk/Spock, brief Kirk/Gaila
Plot Stuff: oblivious!Spock, clingy!Jim, romcom, plot devices, academy AU, brief break-up
Word Count: 30,385 total
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
…after consulting experts on the human psyche, I have been informed that Terran males find expressions of love unexpectedly repellant, even from entities they hope to engage in sexual relations…
Spock approached Kirk after the next xenolinguistics meeting, interrupting his conversation with Uhura about the edibility of Klingon gagh.
“Jim.”
Kirk jumped, looking up at Spock warily. Perhaps the sudden use of informality was already working as Vro predicted. “Hey, Spock. You remembered my name, I’m touched.” The grin was back. Spock frowned.
“I wish to speak to you alone, urgently.” He glared at Kirk in what Spock hoped was an intense manner.
“Yeah, sure.” Kirk grabbed his bag. “You’ve escaped this time, Uhura, but you can’t escape me and a nice juicy bowl of gagh forever.”
“Shove it, Kirk,” she called after him as he followed Spock out of the classroom.”
“Hey.” Kirk looked up at him. “I’ve missed you. Been busy writing that paper?”
“Indeed. But now I am available. I wish to hang out with you.” Spock raised the bag he was holding. “I have prepared a traditional Vulcan meal. We can eat it while sitting on the grass in the courtyard.” After interrogating Vro further on human romance, the Orion had suggested Spock accost Kirk with a picnic lunch. Signs of sudden domesticity in a relationship could be off putting to humans only interested in a casual association.
Kirk’s eyes widened. “Wow, Spock. I’m shocked. Didn’t think picnics would be your style. Aren’t they illogical or something?”
Spock hesitated. “Although eating outdoors can be inconvenient, it is not illogical to partake in sustenance when one is hungry, even if the action occurs on plant life that has an eighty six percent chance of being damp.”
“Awesome, no picnic guilt then.” Kirk linked his arm through Spock’s. “Let’s go get our butts damp.”
Spock led Kirk out to the courtyard, Kirk’s easy acceptance and usual willingness to initiate contact was troubling. However, Vro had warned Spock that it may take longer to wear this particular obstinate human down. Spock concurred; Kirk did not want for this particular trait.
“Allowing our clothes to become damp when it can be prevented would be illogical. I brought a blanket.” Spock set down the container of edibles, unwrapping and flicking open the blanket to rest it on the ground. Kirk watched him, hands resting on his hips.
“You came prepared.”
“I am always prepared. To not be would be illogical.”
“Never spontaneous, never unpredictable.” Kirk ungracefully threw his body down onto the blanket, stretching out on his side, chin propped on his hand. “But that’s okay. I’ll be the one bringing that to this relationship.”
Spock frowned. “I do not approve of spontaneity. Unpredictable actions lead to unpredictable consequences.”
Kirk grinned at him predatorily, teeth flashing. Evidently, antagonizing instead of complementing was causing the reverse affect Spock required. He noted the fact away to use as proof for his paper’s thesis. “However,” Spock countered intent of remedying his previous folly. “Spontaneity can have positive strategic results when used in particular circumstances, which you have demonstrated… many times.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, Spock.” Kirk had rolled over onto his back, arms placed behind his head. “Did you finally realize my bravery during the rescue sim wasn’t so stupid, after all?”
“I am,” Spock clenched his fists, “beginning to see the benefits of your…” Flattery, Spock realized, was not easy. “Actions.”
Though it was not a lie, Spock reminded himself, he had omitted much of the truth.
“You’re different today.” Kirk sat up, peering at Spock speculatively. “Speaking of different, what did you make me?” He rubbed his hands together.
Blinking away the image of Kirk’s hands chafing against one other, Spock revealed the containers of food. “I have brought plomeek soup, kreyla, which has a similar texture as human bread, and a salad using ingredients native to Vulcan.”
Kirk took the container of soup Spock handed him, opened the top and inhaled deeply. “Your favorite food.”
“You conveyed an interest in ‘my favourite foods.’ Although they cannot be favourites as Vulcan’s do not express favoritism, these dishes could be described as being the most edifying to my palate.” Spock arranged the dishes between them.
“Are you sure, Spock? No favoritism at all, to anything?” He shifted five inches closer to where Spock knelt. “Or, more importantly--anyone?”
“Affirmative.” Spock placed two sets of cutlery on the blanket.
Kirk poked him in the chest and Spock looked up from his arrangement. “Have you ever made any one a picnic before?” Kirk asked, lowering his eyelashes.
Spock blinked. “Negative.” Kirk blinked back. Upon further analysis, Spock realized this would be an advantageous time to proceed to the ‘lay the love on thick’ step of his experiment.
“I made an error in my previous statement on favoritism.” Spock steadied himself for a most unnaturally Vulcan declaration, one, however, that would be made for science. “I do favour one particular human.” Spock stared at Kirk, unblinking. “You, Jim.”
Kirk was watching Spock, his mouth a gape. “Wow. That… well that was easier than I expected.” He smiled, one that reached his eyes making them uncomfortably bright. Spock forced himself not to look away. “So, Vulcans don’t lie, right?”
“They do not.” Spock gripped his chopstick, moving it between his fingers. Vulcans do not lie. He repeated the phrase in his head. No, it was not a lie. Spock did prefer Jim to other humans. That was his problem.
Kirk rested a hand on Spock’s knee briefly. These sudden touches, lasting only seconds, were never enough to break Spock’s mental shields, but enough to light a bright spark of feeling in the back of his mind. He wondered if Kirk knew what he was doing, if these grazes against Spock’s knees, his arms, his back, were a part of Kirk’s seduction techniques.
“Well, Spock. You’re my favourite Vulcan,” Kirk replied.
Spock let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. “There is a ninety one percent probability that I am the only Vulcan you are acquainted with.”
Kirk huffed. “It doesn’t matter. You’d still be my favourite Vulcan even if I knew every single Vulcan alive.” He took a sip of his soup, slurping loudly.
“Illogical. You would not know the truth of this unless you had indeed met every Vulcan alive.” He watched Kirk take a bit of the kreyla, using his hands to eat it as no Vulcan ever would.
“Some things you just know,” Kirk spoke around a mouth full of food. “And this I do.” He swallowed. “You know, I heard Vulcan food was pretty bland, but this stuff is good.” He filled his mouth again.
“Your illogical statements once again confound me; however I am gratified you find the food palatable.” He took a sip from his own bowl of plomeek before continuing. “I made slight modifications based on my mother’s recipes. As a human, she added what she deemed, ‘improvements,’ to common Vulcan dishes that she found bland compared to her native dishes.”
“Let her know I’m a big fan of her improvements.” Kirk finished off the rest of his soup by tipping his head back and emptying the remaining contents into his mouth. A pink tongue peeked out between his lips to gather the remaining liquid left on his lips. “So, does that whole, ‘you’re my favorite human,’ out of the blue comment mean you’re into me.”
“I am not in you, Jim, but obviously outside you.”
Kirk started at him, or rather through him, his eyes slightly glazed. “Don’t put thoughts like that in my head, Spock.”
“Clarify.”
“Yeah, no. Bad idea.” Kirk shook his head roughly. “Never mind that, don’t be coy, I’ve given you enough human slang lessons by now, you gotta know what I’m talking about.”
Kirk had given Spock an opportunity to make the declaration of love Vro had recommended. Taking a measured breath, Spock considered the cadet for a moment.
“I am fond of you, Jim,” Spock murmured. Although he had already expressed more terms of affection than he was comfortable with in a single conversation, he knew this would not be enough to establish a flight response in the human. “I also find you aesthetically pleasing. I wish…” Spock paused to take another steadying breath. “To embark on a romantic relationship with you.”
“Jackpot!” Kirk raised a fist in the air and Spock was momentarily startled by the aggressive movement. “I thought I’d have to drag a confession out of you kicking and screaming. You’re more unpredictable than you think, Spock.” More swiftly than Spock could count the seconds, Kirk had maneuvered himself until their thighs were touching. Neither had pulled away after one minute passed. Much of this time Kirk spent gazing into Spock’s eyes, while Spock stared back, unable to break the contact and unsure how to proceed.
Spock blinked. The picnic and Spock’s declaration of romantic intent had had little effect on Kirk’s attitude. In fact, the cadet seemed more adamant than ever if, as Spock hypothesized, the glazed look in Kirk’s eyes signified feelings of lust. He must be more resilient than Vro’s human suitors had been. Apparently, Spock would have to ‘up the ante.’
“If my… feelings are reciprocated, and if you are amenable, I wish to continue our interaction later this evening over dinner at 19:00 hours.”
Kirk gave him a slow grin. “You warmed up real quick, Spock.”
“I am wearing an extra thermal layer due to the decrease in temperature over the autumn months, which keeps me sufficiently warm. Are you amendable?”
Leaning back on an elbow, Kirk looked up at Spock. The angle of Kirk’s face at this height was pleasing. “I am very amenable,” he replied.
*
…the human emotion ‘jealousy’ is often a destructive force within human relationships causing correlated feelings of distrust and resentment between two parties…
Kirk had distracted Spock during their evening meal by drawing him into discussions about chess strategies, the latest starship model being used to build the fleet’s new flagship, the cadet’s continued obsession with the Kobayashi Maru, and a myriad of other topics. Spock estimated they spent 4.7 minutes together in silence, most of which had transpired while Jim used the restroom. After being driven home by hover bike, Spock had invited Jim in for tea. Although he was aware of the implications of this offer to humans, Spock was not prepared to take his experiment to such extremes. However, to not invite Jim in would seem standoffish and perpetuate Kirk’s hunting instincts. Though surprised, Spock was relieved when Kirk refused because of an exam he needed to prepare for. Spock had gotten the distinct impression it was unlike Kirk to refuse such offers. Perhaps Spock’s efforts to elude Kirk were already working. The next day, Spock decided to test the results of the first stage of his experiment.
Spock waited outside Kirk’s tactical strategies classroom. When he recognized a blond head emerging from the door among a group of peers, he called out.
“Jim.”
“Spock, hey!” Jim waved his hand over a Tellarite’s head, jumping up a down, and then inched his way across to Spock through gaps among the crowd of students. “Hi.” He grinned, looking up at Spock from where he stood, two inches from Spock’s body. “Thanks for yesterday. The dinner and the picnic. It was really great.”
“Thanks are not required. However, I am pleased you had a pleasant time.” Spock ignored the natural instincts telling him to put distance between them. “Will you join me for lunch? I reviewed your schedule and noticed you have no classes over the next two hours.”
Kirk raised his eyebrows. “Been stalking me, huh? That’s pretty flattering. But, I can’t. I made plans to meet Bones for lunch.” His eyes brightened. “But, you can join us. I want to introduce you to Bones, anyway. I bet you guys would really get along.”
Spock frowned. His plan to overwhelm Kirk with romance would be dulled by the presence of another. However, any refusal could initiate Kirk’s human instinct to chase after his prospective mate.
“I will join you.” And though he was disgruntled to admit it, there was a sense of curiosity about the human named Bones who Kirk spoke much off. In fact, here was another opportunity to put one of Vro’s suggestions to practice.
“Great, let’s go.” Kirk grabbed Spock’s upper arm, tugging him down the hall toward the mess.
Kirk approached a man who, Spock observed from the amount of lines on his face, was in his early thirties. He was seated, eating a salad rather voraciously. From the familiar way Kirk greeted him, slapping the man on the arm, declaring loudly, “hey, old man, you started without me!” Spock assumed this was indeed, Bones.
Bones started, then waved his fork in a threatening manner at Kirk. “You took too long and I’m damn hungry. Here,” he pushed another plate full of salad toward Kirk. “Eat this.” Bending his head, Bones continued eating his own meal.
“Spock, this is Bones. Bones this is Spock.” Bones’ head snapped back up and he glared at Spock. It was not a very welcoming expression though from the way he had addressed Kirk, who apparently was his friend, Spock was not surprised by the man’s unfriendly demeanor. Kirk moved to the other side of the table to pull out a chair. Instead of seating himself in it, he looked to Spock and gestured toward the chair.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Do you require assistance?”
“No, Spock,” he laughed. “I’m trying to be a gentleman. Have a seat.”
Normally, Spock would protest such a gesture. It was superfluous; Spock was capable of pulling out his own chair. However, he yielded. Challenging Kirk would only ruin Spock’s original strategy. “Thank you,” he responded, lowering himself into the chair against his better nature. Bones’ belligerent glare had remained on Spock the entire time.
Kirk placed the salad plate Bones had acquired in front of Spock. “Here, Spock, you like vegetables. I’m going to grab a burger, be right back.” Spock watched him leave. The idea of being alone in the presence of Kirk’s cantankerous friend was an unpleasant one.
“So. You’re, Spock,” Bones grunted.
“I am.” Although Kirk had described Bones as a more logical being through his negative responses to Kirk’s often perilous activities, the man was still prone to illogical repetition of facts just like his other fellow humans.
“Was beginning to think you weren’t real, the way Jim talks about you.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “I am real, as you can see. Does Jim experience hallucinations?”
“No.” Bones crossed his arms. “Though the way he works himself to the bone it’s a miracle he isn’t seeing angels.”
“Jim does have an abnormally full schedule for a human with limited stamina.”
“You’re telling me! If he keeps up at this pace, he’ll have an aneurism at twenty five before he gets his precious captain stripes.” Bones speared a slice of cucumber with gratuitous aggression. “You should talk to him. Tell him to slow down and breathe. Maybe he’d listen to you.”
“If Jim ignores the advice of a qualified medical professional, as I have been informed you are, I highly doubt my input on the matter would make any difference.”
“Ha! He’s smitten.” Bones pointed a single finger at Spock. “With you. He’d probably do anything you tell him.”
Spock drew his brows together. “That has not been my experience, so far.”
“You must be going about it all wrong. Dangle the carrot in front of the donkey. Give him something good in exchange,” Bones gestured. “For example, tell Jim you’ll let him grope your ass if he shows up for his medical appointment next week.”
Spock straightened. “What donkey are you referring to?”
“You’re not talking shit about me, are you Bones?” Kirk had returned with a large plate filled with what Spock assumed was a burger, and what appeared to be deep fried wedges of potato.
“Nah, just telling him all the gooey stuff you’ve been saying about him.” Bones raised his voice a pitch higher. “Ooo, he’s so smart, Bones, so handsome!” His gruff voice returned. “On and on like a lovesick puppy.”
Kirk held up his hands. “Spock, don’t listen to him, he’s delusional. Doesn’t sleep enough. He hears things.”
“If he is hearing you speak words you did not speak, it would be logical for Bones to seek the aid of a doctor specializing in the human brain.”
Kirk was laughing. Spock did not think laughing in the presence of a potentially mentally ill man was wise.
“I’m a doctor, and there’s nothing wrong with my brain. He’s the one that needs looking at!” Bones thrust an accusatory finger at Kirk. “Keeps skipping his damn medicals. You think you’re invincible, Jim. Well you ain’t. And you!” He turned his aggression on Spock. “Don’t call me Bones, pointy.”
“Pointy? Is that a derogatory reference? Starfleet regulations forbid the use of xenophobic statements.”
Bones grimaced. “This one is a barrel of laughs.”
“Vulcans do not laugh.”
“No really?” Bones grimaced. “Never would have guessed.”
Kirk had been watching their interlude in uncharacteristic silence, his head moving back and forth between them, a grin spreading across his face.
Bones’ aggressive attitude toward Spock and belligerent protectiveness toward Kirk, as well as Kirk’s apparent joy over their disagreement, reminded Spock of an emotion he had been reading extensively on as part of his research. The direction of their conversation was proving advantageous for the next part of his experiment.
“Your attitude toward me denotes hints of jealously.”
Bones stilled placing down his fork. Kirk scooped up a handful of fries, shoving them into his mouth. “Jealous of what?” Bones asked.
“Perhaps I have been misled on the depth of your relationship to Jim. Unless your feelings toward him are unrequited.”
“Are you-" Bones spluttered, having trouble forming words. “Are you telling me-Good God, man! Now you’re the delusional one here. Jealous! About him?” He flung an arm in Kirk’s direction, missing his face by 3.4 centimeters.
“Hey!” Kirk looked at Bones, his eyes widening and his mouth pulling down into an expression of discontent. This emotional response indicated that Bones’ feelings may not be unreciprocated after all. Spock frowned, thoughts of displeasure invading his scientific neutrality.
“A human might say, ‘he doth protest too much.’”
Bones slammed a fist on the table, the force knocking a few potato wedges off Kirk’s plate, which the cadet quickly salvaged, scooping them into his mouth. “I’m protesting too much because this needs a whole lot of protesting,” Bones yelled. “There’s no way, no how, no possibility at all that I want Jim. He ain’t even close to my type. Can’t even stand him most of the time.”
“Come on Bonesy, you love me really.” Jim moved his arm, placing it against Bones’ shoulder. Perhaps the unrequited feelings actually belonged to Kirk, Spock considered, this idea even more disagreeable than the last.
“Don’t touch me with those greasy fingers, Jim. Goddammit, eat a damn salad for once before you clog up your arteries and I’m the one stuck giving you CPR.”
“Don’t worry, Bones. I know you can always make my heart beat again.” Kirk blinked his eyes rapidly, an action Spock was beginning to believe was flirtatious in nature rather than medical.
“I’d leave you dead on the floor if I wasn’t a doctor and ethically forced to heal idiots like you.” Bones moved out of Kirk’s grasp, but Jim latched on to him again. As he watched Jim’s fingers squeeze into Bones’ shoulder, Spock felt a rising pressure at the back of his throat.
He stood abruptly, his chair screeching as it slid back against the floor. “This is unacceptable.” Spock moved the muscles of his face into the imitation of a glower, an expression that was easier to attempt than he expected. “You should not be laying your hands on other men.”
Kirk and Bones, distracted from their strange, insensible bickering, a contrast of affection and distaste, stared at Spock in disbelief. Bones was the first to speak. “Happy to oblige.” He shifted out of Kirk’s grasp again, and returned to devouring his salad. Jim did not move to touch Bones again; instead he griped Spock’s arm, as always, unable to leave his hands empty.
“Hey, sorry, Spock. I didn’t mean anything, seriously. We’re just joking around.” Jim squeezed the flesh under his hand. A shiver ran up Spock’s spine.
“You better be joking,” Bones grumbled.
Spock averted his gaze. “It is unseemly to touch one who is not one’s mate.”
“Mating! Disgusting-you better be doing it at his place and not ours.”
Spock focused his gaze on Bones. “It is also improper to be sharing a residence with a romantic interest who you are not courting.”
“I am no one’s romantic interest!” Bones yelled.
Kirk’s hand slid down Spock’s arm, to land, unmoving, on Spock’s hand. The rush of human emotion that flooded Spock with the unhindered contact shook his mental shields. He forced his muscles to remain still. “We’re just roommates, Spock.” Jim said. “I promise you, there is nothing romantic between me and Bones, and never will be.”
“Damn straight.” Bones muttered.
“Your actions and speech demonstrate otherwise.”
Jim’s hand moved across Spock’s skin, his fingers slipping between Spock’s. “Don’t be mad. There’s nothing to be jealous of.” Spock’s hand twitched in response, a sign of his faltering shields.
Spock rearranged his expression into one of distaste. “Do you touch all your friends as you touch me? If so, my feelings on the matter are justified.”
“I didn’t think Vulcans would get jealous. This is kinda interesting.” Jim rubbed a thumb along Spock’s.
“Vulcans do not get jealous,” Spock snapped before thinking. The point of this obscene display was to participate in the human act of jealousy and put pressure on Kirk, not to refute it.
“Oh, really? But what if I do this?” Removing his hand from Spock’s, an action that sent a shameful sense of irritation into his thoughts, Jim practically jumped into Bones’ lap. Bones froze and a vein on the side of his forehead twitched, giving Spock the image of a time bomb about to explode. Indeed, Spock could use the metaphor to describe the dark sensation flooding his feigned indifference at the sight of Jim so intimately seated on top of another.
“Hi, Bones, you miss me?” Jim pressed his lips to Bones’ right cheek. Spock clenched his fingers under the table, nails digging into his palm.
“Get the hell offa me!” Bones roared, standing abruptly, Kirk tumbling off his lap and crashing to the floor in a peal of laughter. Bones rubbed a hand roughly against his cheek.
Spock took a step back. “If it is your intention to ignore my concerns and instead provoke me, I will excuse myself.” As he turned to leave, Spock realized he had let his own fractured control affect his response. Running away from Kirk would likely have the opposite affect Spock intended.
His assumption was correct. “Spock!” Jim scrambled up from the floor, grabbing Spock’s shoulder before he could take more than a step away from his turbulent emotions. “It’s a joke, I’m teasing. I’m sorry, don’t leave.”
It was necessary to salvage his experiment before he caused Kirk to become more persistent in his romantic efforts. Spock was feeling emotions that would normally be carefully contained behind his mental shields, and Kirk’s unhinged affection toward him, however fleeting it may prove to be, was heightening Spock’s reactions. He could not allow this to continue.
Allowing the emotion Spock predicted was showing on his face to remain for added affect, Spock turned to face Kirk. “If you wish for me to remain, you must cease your flagrant groping of other sentient beings. I am finding it most disturbing.”
“You’re jealous.” Kirk removed his hand from Spock’s arm. Spock felt like he could finally breathe easily again.
Acknowledgment of feeling was not an easy task for Spock, but one necessary to his research. “Perhaps,” he responded.
“That’s the understatement of the year.” Bones muttered in the background. “That look on your face. Thought you were gonna tear my head off.”
Kirk fidgeting with his fingers, a reaction, Spock had noticed, displayed the cadet’s nervousness. “You have to believe me. That touchy feely stuff with Bones really was a joke. I’m just messing with him--it’s what we do.”
“And I wish you’d stop before you give me an aneurism,” Bones replied.
“The way I touch Bones, isn’t the way I touch you,” Kirk smiled. “I’ll prove it.” Kirk’s hand moved upward, landing on Spock’s cheek. Closing the distance between them, he pressed his lips against Spock’s. They remained there for only a few seconds, yet the sensation remained on Spock’s skin long after Kirk pulled away.
“Goddammit!” Bones yelled. “Get a room!” Several other cadets in the vicinity turned at the sudden uproar. Spock felt heat rise to his cheeks. Although Kirk was not a student in one of his credit courses, Spock had no desire to be seen fraternizing in public. Kirk was watching him, his eyes filled with questions Spock was not prepared to answer. Once again, Spock’s experiment had derailed. Kirk was handling every emotional response Spock assailed him with remarkable composure and resilience.
Fascinating.
It would be necessary for Spock to regroup and attempt another stratagem. Spock breathed, stabilizing his voice. “Understood. I have a class in ten minutes, please excuse me.” He nodded to Bones, stared at Kirk a few moments longer than necessary, and then fled in as composed a manner as he could muster.
*
…Frequent and repetitive declarations of love can often create a ‘fight or flight’ response in the human male. Expressions of emotion, although at first desired, may become monotonous to humans who prefer the excitement of a challenge when pursuing their mate…
After repetitive failures at deterring Kirk’s romantic feelings toward him, Spock once again went to seek Cadet Vro’s advice.
“You’re being too Vulcan,” Vro replied after Spock described his previous experiments. “You gotta get under his skin. But not physically,” Gaila cautioned. “Jim is a sexaholic. Do it once and you’ll never get him off your back.” She nodded sagely. Spock tried not to think about the specific expertise Gaila would have about Kirk’s sexual inclinations. 'Vulcans do not get jealous,' Spock repeated as a mantra in his head. “Get more emotional with him.” Gaila continued. “Talk about your feelings, like all the time.”
“Vulcans do not talk about their feelings. I have minimal experience in such conversation.”
“Exactly. That’s why Jim’s fawning all over you. There’s still a mysterious part of you he hasn’t dug up yet.” Gaila grinned. “Your feelings.”
“He did express enjoyment in provoking me into a state of jealously during our last interaction.”
Gaila snorted. “I bet he did.”
To prepare himself for these recommended emotional outbursts, Spock halved the amount of meditative trances he participated in. He would have to stay on his guard. His lowered shields could create turmoil under extreme conditions. However, the more fragile state he was now experiencing would make it easier to express emotions a fully functional Vulcan would never allow to be heard.
At Vro’s advisement, Spock had begun calling Kirk repeatedly every day, once quite early in the morning in the hopes of disturbing the cadet’s sleep before one of his more trying tactical classes. Kirk had answered the call on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep.
“Spock!” he blurted out, evident distress in his tone. “Are you okay?”
“I am functional.” Spock had replied after a pause, the greeting not what he had been expecting from a human roused from required rest.
Spock heard Kirk’s sigh on the other end, imagining the puff of air slipping from his lips, hitting the speaker of his communicator and the sensation it would create against his own ear. Apparently, Spock’s lack of meditation was already affecting his logic.
“Thank, God.” Kirk breathed. “I saw your name on my comm and freaked. What is it, five in the morning?” Spock felt a measure of guilt for causing Jim distress. He knew Kirk repeatedly sacrificed sleep in order to keep up with his accelerated course schedule. “You sure you okay, what’s up?”
“As I previously noted, I am functional. Nothing is up other than the ceiling of my residence and a circular lighting fixture. I am calling to wish you good morning, as I have been told it is common practice among humans to greet loved ones upon waking and to be reassured by the sound of their voice before starting one’s daily tasks.”
Kirk made an indistinguishable sound. “So. I’m one of your loved ones, hmm?”
Silence.
“Spock, you there? Can you hear me? Spock? Hey, Spock, you love me lots, huh? Just wanted to hear my voice, did you miss me? Spock.” Kirk’s voice shifted into a lyrical tone, his pitch higher. “Spock. Spock!” Spock gripped his comm tighter. There was an audible cracking sound from the casing.
“I am present. My auditory system is functional.” A pause. “I feel a sizeable amount of affection for you. The sound of your voice is indeed quite pleasant.” Spock released some of the tension in his fingers lest his comm break and communication become interrupted. “I do, indeed, notice the lack of your presence when you are not near, and in such instances, desire to be in your vicinity 98.3 percent of the time.”
“Only 98.3 percent of the time?” The distress had returned to Jim’s voice, likely exaggerated to provoke an emotional response from Spock.
“It would not be desirable for you to be in my presence during more private activities.”
“Mmm, okay I get it. You don’t want me to see you taking a dump or picking your nose.”
“I do not pick my nose. It is unhygienic.”
“Sure, Spock, whatever you say,” Kirk’s inflated tone denoted the use of human sarcasm.
“Vulcans do not lie.”
“You got me there.” Kirk chuckled. “Gotta admit, this whole anti-lying thing you got going has its advantages. It’s nice not having to question everything a person says.”
Spock paused. He did not lie. Although Spock was expressing feelings he would normally never say out loud, it did not mean they were untruths. Spock had never lied outright to Jim. However, there was a measure of deception is his current actions toward Kirk, despite the logic of his reasoning to dissuade Jim from his fixation. “Indeed,” Spock answered. “If only humans had the same predilection.”
Kirk did not speak for 8.8 seconds. Spock began to wonder if the cadet had fallen asleep, when his voice returned, his humorous tone gone. “Hey, Spock. You should know--you don’t have to question my feelings. I’m not playing games, here.”
Spock blinked, his grip upon his communicator once again becoming destructive. The undisputable fact that humans did lie, even if some only on occasion, prevented Spock from being able to truly believe Kirk’s words.
“I know what it’s like to get screwed around by people you care about.” Spock’s eyes fluttered shut as he listened to the sound of Kirk breathing through his comm. “I won’t bore you with the details,” Kirk murmured, his voice hushed, “but, I just want you to know that I’m serious. About you.”
Illogically, Spock wanted to believe Kirk’s affection for him was genuine, and not believe it at the same time for the sake of his own control. Jim brought out human feelings in Spock, emotions he had kept hidden most of his life. To settle the warmth suddenly flooding his body, Spock reminded himself of Kirk’s flirtations, his obsession with the Kobayashi Maru and Spock’s involvement in the test, as well as the dubious conversation Uhura had overheard
“Your assurance on this matter is appreciated,” Spock replied, his voice sounding like a stranger’s, lacking the detached tone that had remained unbroken since childhood. “My apologies for disturbing your rest.”
“S’okay, Spock.” Kirk yawned. “You call me any time.”
Spock would do as Kirk requested for the next few days, calling Jim for assurances of his wellbeing, to ask him the meaning of a human idiom he had heard one of his students say, to make a simple observation he doubted Kirk would have interest in, to share an interlude Spock had found particularly fascinating, to give an affectionate statement, which Vro had convinced Spock was necessary, or ‘just to hear the sound of his voice.’ Despite Spock’s persistence, Kirk never expressed irritation during one of Spock’s communications, nor did he ask that Spock desist. In fact, Kirk’s voice articulated delight whenever he answered one of Spock’s calls.
*
…The ultimate offense that can be made against a human who is only seeking the benefits of a casual relationship, is to invade the sacred ‘bachelor pad’ by infiltrating his private space with signs of domesticity…
After dressing, this time out of his uniform and into more casual attire, a set of robes he wore while off duty, Spock proceeded to Kirk’s apartment by air car. Spock had called Kirk earlier in the day and invited himself over for dinner in an attempt to invade Kirk’s ‘personal space,’ as Vro described it. As Kirk had displayed no qualms about having his space invaded is the past, Spock was skeptical whether this particular experiment would succeed.
This would be Spock’s third evening meal spent at Jim’s home. The first two meals, Bones, Kirk’s friend and living companion, was also in attendance. Spock had used the situation to become possessive of Jim again, questioning the cadets’ living arrangements, asking how frequently they shared a bed, whether Bones was currently involved in a romantic relationship, as well as keeping an eye on Kirk’s hands. Whenever Jim stood too close to Bones, Spock would immediately insert himself between them or pull Kirk away. Bones expressed his irritation frequently and loudly. Jim seemed to find the whole ordeal humorous. Although expressing exaggerated jealousy irritated Bones into apoplectic episodes, Kirk found it endearing and increased his affection toward Spock significantly after each emotional outburst, usually through human kisses or by wrapping his hand around Spock’s. This evening, however, Bones would not be home. Therefore, Spock planned to attempt another strategy, which Vro promised was practically ‘foolproof.’
“Spock,” Kirk announced as he answered his door 2.3 seconds after Spock rung the bell, kissing Spock on the cheek. “Glad you could make it.”
“I agreed to arrive at your residence at 19:00 hours as you informed me would be an agreeable time. Excepting any unforeseen circumstances, there should have been no uncertainty about my attendance.”
Kirk patted Spock on the back, his hand sliding down Spock’s spine to land at his waste. “I hope you’re hungry, I made loads of food.” He guided Spock into the entranceway, Kirk’s hand a firm pressure against his lower back. “What’s in the bag?”
“Necessities.”
Kirk grinned. “Okay, mystery guy, you can put it down wherever.”
“I am not a ‘mystery guy.’ We have been acquainted for 81.8 days.” He placed his duffel bag down on the hallway floor.
“Yeah, but there’s still loads about you that’s still a mystery,” he tapped Spock on the chest and headed toward the fridge.
Mystery fueled the human sexual fires, according to Cadet Vro. Spock must assuage Kirk’s fire immediately. The contents of his bag would assist in this.
“What do you want to drink?” Jim called, his body hidden behind the fridge door. “Tea? I got some of that Vulcan stuff you like. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, Gaila gave me a bottle of something. She told me to drink it with someone special.”
Spock had begun removing the contents of his bag and placing them in appropriate locations in Kirk’s rooms. “That would be acceptable.”
“Really? Okay, Gaila’s mystery booze it is.” He heard Kirk moving around the kitchen, opening cupboards, placing glasses on the counter, liquid filling them. Spock removed the last item from the bag, his toothbrush, and placed it a cup in the bathroom. He washed his hands then joined Kirk in the kitchen.
“Cheers, Spock.” Kirk handed him a glass filled with a dark brown liquid. “To mystery.” Kirk took a sip of his drink, and Spock mimicked him. The beverage was sweet and thick with the sharp bite of alcohol as an aftertaste. Spock took another sip.
Jim had indeed made a substantial amount of food, the table covered in various vegetarian dishes. “Hope it’s all okay. Bones nearly fainted when he saw me cooking with vegetables.”
“Despite his many faults, the doctor is correct in his estimation of your diet. An increase in vegetable and fruit ingredients is likely to improve your immune system by 78 percent.”
“Glad to hear you guys agree on something. I didn’t even have to ask Bones for some alone time to wine and dine you. He made a beeline for the door when I told him you were coming over.”
“The feeling, I believe, is mutual.” Spock began tasting the dishes. They were not unappetizing.
“Just wait, you guys’ll be best buds in no time. You just gotta warm up to each other.” Kirk filled his plate.
“Unlikely.” Spock took another long sip of his drink, sending a volley of heat from his stomach to his head. “I have no desire to be warmed by any other being than you.”
“You’re becoming a real sweet talker, Spock.” Jim smiled at him.
Spock raised an eyebrow and continued drinking. The sensation it was causing was extremely pleasant.
The evening continued in much the same fashion, the two finishing the bottle of liquor and much of Jim’s culinary efforts between them. By the end of dinner, Spock was feeling quite illogical. Jim’s eyes had been shining at him during the whole meal, and Spock could not remember the last time he blinked. An irrational desire had overcome him to not let Jim out of his sight for even a second.
At some point, his right hand had made it into Jim’s left, a movement Spock remembered making himself when Kirk had started discussing the latest discoveries in warp theory. Their fingers were now so closely entwined, Jim’s haphazard swirl of emotions mixing with Spock’s through the contact, that Spock was unsure where his flesh began and where Jim’s ended. This illusion was likely assisted by the faint haze interrupting his vision, a haze, Spock hypothesized, caused by intoxication from one of the ingredients in Gaila’s alcohol. Jim’s hair looked unusually luminescent under the overhead lighting and Spock was overcome by an overwhelming urge to touch it, so he did. And one he began, Spock had trouble stopping. He had been running the fingers of his left hand though Kirk’s hair for several indeterminate minutes, the fingers of his right making slow torturous movements against Kirk’s knuckles, when he felt pressure and the tingle of presence against the line of his jaw, the edge of one ear, over his lips.
“Jim,” Spock murmured. His mind wanted to say more, but his mouth was having trouble forming the words.
“I know, Spock.” And then Jim’s lips were on his, and Spock knew nothing but the feel of Jim’s mouth against his, Jim’s fingers against his own and the bright swell of Kirk’s emotions seeping into his mind.
Spock lost track of the time they spent wrapped up in each other. At some point they had made it to the couch, Jim’s body pinned underneath his, Jim’s shirt removed, tossed to some unknown location, and Jim’s hands underneath Spock’s robes. This is the position Spock found himself in when Bones came storming into the room yelling. Spock was having trouble understanding, his head filled with the feel, smell, heat of Jim.
“What the hell is this?” Bones was holding up a black handled tooth brush. “And this!” Bones lifted up a black bath robe. “Good, God!” Bones turned abruptly. “Can’t you do that shit in your room, Jim? Other people sit on that couch, you know!”
Jim twisted his head around to stare at Bones from where he lay stretched out on the couch. “You’re killing the mood, Bones.” He reached up toward Spock, linking his fingers behind Spock’s neck. Although a voice, faint, hidden at the back of his mind behind a cloud of emotion, said it would be wise to, Spock did not pull away.
“Stop canoodling and answer my damn question.” He shook the articles in his hands emphatically. “What the hell is going on? You can’t just move a Vulcan in without telling your roommate. You know--me!” Bones thrust a finger, banging it against the middle of his chest as if Jim had forgotten who Bones was. Though, in their current state, Spock supposed it was possible to forget such obvious facts.
Jim sighed, and shifted under Spock to free more of his body. Spock frowned, the loss of contact against Jim’s skin undesirable. “What are you going on about, Bones?”
“I just found these in the bathroom.” Bones shook the offending articles in his hand again.
Now that most of his body had separated from Jim’s, breaking their connection, a modicum of sense returned to Spock’s brain. “The items you found are my toothbrush, and my bathrobe,” he answered, his voice thick, his words blurring together.
“No really. And what, may I ask, are your things doing in my bathroom.” Bones complained.
Spock moved to the edge of the couch and straightened, untangling the rest of his body from Jim’s. He scrambled to reconstruct enough of his shields to continue the experiment he had put into place for the evening. “Possessing a toothbrush is necessary for routine oral health. The bathrobe seemed necessary to adhere to human modesty. I did not think you would enjoy seeing me leave the bathroom nude. And the bathroom in question is not yours, but jointly shared by you and Jim.” Allowing his shields to slip completely had been a terrible error. He could still feel the ghost of Jim’s fingers on his skin, no matter how hard he tried not to think about what just happened, and what almost did happen.
Bones’ face turned an unhealthy shade of red. As a doctor, Spock thought, Bones should be more aware of his rising blood pressure. “You got any sense left in that head of yours, kid?” He turned his attention back to Kirk. “Or has all the blood rushed to your dick? There’s no way you’re moving this green blooded hobgoblin in on me.”
Jim was staring at Spock now, a question in his eye. “Spock? You trying to tell me something?”
Spock raised an eyebrow in return. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus all his emotion into only a single gesture. He would require a long bout of meditation upon his return to his own quarters. “As I am spending a greater portion of my days in your presence, it seemed logical I move my necessities into your home for convenience sake.”
Jim watched Spock in silence, his lips parted, an expression of surprise. Bones was muttering about nothing of consequence. Spock wondered if his experiment was finally having the effect he had hypothesized for his paper. Although such a result would help him form a conclusion for his research, Spock felt uneasy by Kirk’s silence. An emotion no doubt caused by Spock’s broken shields and lack of meditation.
“So, are you saying you wanna move in?” Jim finally answered, his voice quieter than usual.
“As we have a mutually agreed upon affection and attraction toward each other, it would be logical to share a living space. This is a feature of human mating rituals that is shared by Vulcans.”
Jim eyed Spock warily. “Are you sure this isn’t some, ‘I’m trying to conform to human norms’ thing? Because you don’t have to push yourself, Spock. I can wait.”
Spock frowned. “Negative.”
The edges of Jim’s mouth lifted, his eyes brightening significantly. “Well, okay then, sure. You know how I feel, Spock. I can’t get enough of you.” Kirk tuned to Bones. “He’ll share my room, of course. You know he’s clean and quiet. It’s not like he’s gonna keep you up all night like I do.”
“Oh, hell no!” Bones roared. ‘This is not happening.”
Spock stilled. He had been sure the sudden infiltration into Kirk’s home would cause a fissure in his infatuation for Spock. However, now it seemed only more firmly placed. Spock had made a grave mistake, one he feared he could not escape from without casualties.
Kirk had jumped off the couch and was busy comforting Bones, attempting to persuade him. Spock still felt lightheaded, a loud hum filling his ears, the strange liquor and his broken shields unstabilizing him. He must leave, remove himself from Jim’s presence quickly, and place himself away from sight, before Spock caused any more damage.
Spock stood, swaying slightly in place. “I must leave,” he declared, his voice overly loud in his ears. “I will leave you two to discuss the matter and reach a conclusion.” He moved toward the apartment’s entrance.
“Spock, wait.” Kirk followed him to where Spock was fumbling with his shoes. “I don’t know what was in that drink, but you’re kinda drunk. Stay the night, your stuff is here already, might as well.” He placed a hand on Spock’s shoulder. Spock flinched.
“That would not be wise.” Kirk’s hand slipped away, resting limply against his side. The sight of Kirk’s empty fingers caused a tightening against Spock’s side, his heart beating several times faster than its normal rate.
“I won’t take advantage, Spock. I’ll sleep on the couch if you want. I don’t want you going home like this.”
“It is not you I am afraid of Jim, but myself. I require meditation. It would be best if I return to my residence for the night until I am once again sober.” He moved to the door, turning to face Kirk once more. “We will speak tomorrow.”
Kirk watched him, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Okay, Spock. Call me, alright?”
Spock nodded, and left, the humming in his ears following him out of the building and into the street.
*
…Although humans often lie to avoid emotional confrontation within relationships, an excessive amount of deception will eventually lead to separation…
Meditation had returned Spock to a logical state of mind. However, now he was sensible again, the situation he had entangled himself in seemed unsolvable without disrupting his research, or revealing his recent tactical efforts against Kirk and injuring the cadet’s feelings. The utter lack of distaste from Kirk over Spock’s abnormal behavior during the past 1.7 months made Spock believe that Kirk was honestly devoted to him exclusively. Once again, Spock had made a grave error in underestimating Kirk, as well as the strength of his own emotions toward the cadet.
The scientific decision would be to continue his experiment until its conclusion whether it proved the depth of human fickleness or the strength of human commitment. An incorrect scientific theory was just an invaluable as a correct one. Living together, spending time constantly in each other’s presence would be the ultimate test of Kirk’s affection. As well as Spock’s own. His utter lack of control last night, non-withstanding his intoxication and lowered shields, had questioned the validity of Spock’s indifference toward Kirk. Spock knew he was fascinated by Kirk before the experiment began, but he had not comprehended how deeply his attraction run. Even 12.2 hours spent in meditation had not removed the remembrance of Kirk’s hands sliding against his own, and the ecstasy his connection with Kirk had caused. Getting to the truth of his feelings and Kirk’s was logical. Completing the paper he had promised T’Pring was logical. Therefore, at a reasonable hour, Spock called Kirk to confirm his intentions and to discover if Kirk’s decision had been swayed by a sober mind and the complaints of the ever disagreeable Bones.
Kirk had not been influenced by either. He was committed. Spock felt slightly dismayed and more strongly pleased. Illogical.
Before ending their communication, Kirk offered to help Spock move his possessions to Kirk’s apartment. Although the assistance was unrequired, Spock welcomed it and the chance to be within Kirk’s presence once again. Kirk agreed to meet Spock at his residence Saturday afternoon at 15:00.
When Kirk arrived, Spock had already placed his few possessions in boxes ready for efficient transport. ”Is this everything?” Kirk asked, staring down at the boxes, hands on his hips, a grin on his face.
“Affirmative.” Spock placed his work bag and PADD on top of the small pile.
“I borrowed Bones’ car, so we can pile everything in there. I told Bones there’d be loads of room-you hardly own anything.”
“I admit surprise at hearing the doctor had agreed to our arrangement.” Indeed, Spock had assumed Bones would veto the move in, freeing Spock from any finalizing decisions.
“I’m not. I told you he’d warm up to you eventually. I just went on about how you’d be a good influence on me. Eating more vegetables, going to bed earlier, maybe even some calming meditation. Bones is a smart guy, he knows you’re good for me.” Kirk winked.
“I believe,” Spock said after a pause, “that the benefits are mutual.” Spock bent to retrieve one of his boxes, eager to hide the warmth he felt suddenly spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey, wait.” Jim tugged on Spock’s arm drawing Spock’s body flush against his. Despite Vro’s warning about Kirk’s sexual compulsions, Spock was losing the will to resist Jim’s caresses. In fact, now that they would be sharing a room, Spock, illogical he had not come to the conclusion sooner, realized it would become increasingly impossible to ignore Kirk’s libido. “We never got to finish what we started last night.” Jim slid a hand down Spock’s arm to grip his fingers, pressing his lips against Spock’s. Spock found himself reciprocating the kiss unconsciously, both his fingers and mouth moving eagerly against Jim’s.
Kirk pulled away slightly. He nodded at the box in Spock’s arms, pressed between them. “Let’s get this stuff loaded up. The sooner I get you home the better.” Jim grinned, his breathing heavy. “I know the perfect way to christen your new home.”
Spock complied, feeling breathless. He took a second box in his arms and headed out the door. When he returned to the entranceway to grab another set of boxes, he froze. Jim had moved to lift the box in front of him, but instead his eyes were caught by Spock’s PADD. He lifted it. “Oh hey, is this the article you’ve been working on?”
Spock moved to stop him, reaching for the PADD. “It is not yet complete.” Jim was too quick, jumping away from Spock’s grasp, lifting the PADD away from him.
“Don’t be shy. I’m sure it’s already perfect even in draft form.” Kirk began scrolling through the text, shifting away from Spock’s frantic hands. As Spock feared, Jim’s facial expression began to drop the further he scrolled through the paper. With one last desperate attempt to remove the offending article, Spock ripped the PADD from Kirk’s grasp.
Jim stared up at him. “You’ve been writing about me. About us.”
“You offered to assist in my research early on in our acquaintance,” Spock replied. The excuse, although true, was feeble and he knew it would do little to alleviate Jim’s altered mood.
“You can’t think--” Jim lifted his hands in the air with a great heaving of air between his lips that Spock felt brush against his skin. “Are you kidding me?” Kirk turned away for a moment, and then back again, his eyes flushed wide. “Saying I would help didn’t mean you could use me for some experiment. God, Spock!” Spock could sense Kirk’s turbulent emotions seeping off him even though they were not connected by touch. It was the first time Spock had seen Jim truly angry.
“Jim,” Spock whispered. His stomach plummeted, as if he were falling from a great height. “It was not my intention to hurt you. I believe I misunderstood your intentions toward me, and, as you refused to free me from an, at the time, undesired relationship, it seemed logical to combine my research on human romance with my own experience.”
Jim laughed a harsh sound devoid of his usual humor. “Logical. You thought it’d be logical to pretend to be in love with me, so I‘d fall out of love with you? How is that logical?” Kirk’s feet moved, pacing back and forth across the hallway. Spock’s eyes followed Jim’s movements, each step making him cringe, a pain thrumming low down in his torso where his heart thumped wildly against his side. “What, did you think-that I’d get bored all of a sudden and dump you? You must think I’m a real asshole.”
“Early on in our acquaintance, I believed you were attempting to seduce me in order to gain information about the Kobayashi Maru test.” Spock moved to grip Jim’s arm, desperate to anchor himself against a sudden wave of fear submerging his reason. “Please, Jim. My assumptions were incorrect.”
“Fuck the Kobayashi Maru!” Kirk ripped his arm from Spock’s grasp, extending the distance between them by several feet. “I was crushing on you, Spock. I was infatuated with you. That’s why I kept asking you out-not so I could sleep my way through a damn sim test. Oh my god, and the whole time-I thought you actually felt the same.” Jim rubbed his hands roughly across his face. “I’m an idiot. So stupid.”
Spock forced himself to breathe deeply. His hands clenched and unclenched where they rested vacant against his sides. “Jim,” he breathed.
Kirk whirled around to face him. “Oh, don’t Jim me, Spock. Forget it, fine, I get it. I’m just some airhead hustler and you wanted to get me out of your hair. Desperate men do desperate things. Kinda funny you had to go to such extremes as moving in with me.” That awful laugh again, so unlike Kirk it was as if the sound were coming from a different man. “I’ll bet you a bank worth of credits you’d jump ship before I did though.”
“Jim, my feelings toward you-”
Kirk held up a hand. “Don’t bother, Spock. I know how you feel about petty human emotions. I should have known better.” He moved toward the door, brushing past Spock. The brief connection Jim’s shoulder made against Spock’s arm caused a sharp pang in his head, behind his eyes.
“Jim.” Spock followed him out the door.
“No, Spock.” Kirk was opening the door of the air car.
“Jim.” Spock grabbed Kirk’s hand, his skin aching to feel that consuming warmth again. “Allow me to explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Jim moved from Spock’s grasp and jumped into the car, shoving the keys into the ignition. “You’re just wasting your precious logical time.” He slammed the door shut and drove off. Spock remained standing on the sidewalk for about five minutes after Jim’s departure. This was wrong, everything had gone wrong.
*
Part 4
Inspired by the movie, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.
Rating: PG
Universe: AOS (Academy AU)
Pairings: Kirk/Spock, brief Kirk/Gaila
Plot Stuff: oblivious!Spock, clingy!Jim, romcom, plot devices, academy AU, brief break-up
Word Count: 30,385 total
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
…after consulting experts on the human psyche, I have been informed that Terran males find expressions of love unexpectedly repellant, even from entities they hope to engage in sexual relations…
Spock approached Kirk after the next xenolinguistics meeting, interrupting his conversation with Uhura about the edibility of Klingon gagh.
“Jim.”
Kirk jumped, looking up at Spock warily. Perhaps the sudden use of informality was already working as Vro predicted. “Hey, Spock. You remembered my name, I’m touched.” The grin was back. Spock frowned.
“I wish to speak to you alone, urgently.” He glared at Kirk in what Spock hoped was an intense manner.
“Yeah, sure.” Kirk grabbed his bag. “You’ve escaped this time, Uhura, but you can’t escape me and a nice juicy bowl of gagh forever.”
“Shove it, Kirk,” she called after him as he followed Spock out of the classroom.”
“Hey.” Kirk looked up at him. “I’ve missed you. Been busy writing that paper?”
“Indeed. But now I am available. I wish to hang out with you.” Spock raised the bag he was holding. “I have prepared a traditional Vulcan meal. We can eat it while sitting on the grass in the courtyard.” After interrogating Vro further on human romance, the Orion had suggested Spock accost Kirk with a picnic lunch. Signs of sudden domesticity in a relationship could be off putting to humans only interested in a casual association.
Kirk’s eyes widened. “Wow, Spock. I’m shocked. Didn’t think picnics would be your style. Aren’t they illogical or something?”
Spock hesitated. “Although eating outdoors can be inconvenient, it is not illogical to partake in sustenance when one is hungry, even if the action occurs on plant life that has an eighty six percent chance of being damp.”
“Awesome, no picnic guilt then.” Kirk linked his arm through Spock’s. “Let’s go get our butts damp.”
Spock led Kirk out to the courtyard, Kirk’s easy acceptance and usual willingness to initiate contact was troubling. However, Vro had warned Spock that it may take longer to wear this particular obstinate human down. Spock concurred; Kirk did not want for this particular trait.
“Allowing our clothes to become damp when it can be prevented would be illogical. I brought a blanket.” Spock set down the container of edibles, unwrapping and flicking open the blanket to rest it on the ground. Kirk watched him, hands resting on his hips.
“You came prepared.”
“I am always prepared. To not be would be illogical.”
“Never spontaneous, never unpredictable.” Kirk ungracefully threw his body down onto the blanket, stretching out on his side, chin propped on his hand. “But that’s okay. I’ll be the one bringing that to this relationship.”
Spock frowned. “I do not approve of spontaneity. Unpredictable actions lead to unpredictable consequences.”
Kirk grinned at him predatorily, teeth flashing. Evidently, antagonizing instead of complementing was causing the reverse affect Spock required. He noted the fact away to use as proof for his paper’s thesis. “However,” Spock countered intent of remedying his previous folly. “Spontaneity can have positive strategic results when used in particular circumstances, which you have demonstrated… many times.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, Spock.” Kirk had rolled over onto his back, arms placed behind his head. “Did you finally realize my bravery during the rescue sim wasn’t so stupid, after all?”
“I am,” Spock clenched his fists, “beginning to see the benefits of your…” Flattery, Spock realized, was not easy. “Actions.”
Though it was not a lie, Spock reminded himself, he had omitted much of the truth.
“You’re different today.” Kirk sat up, peering at Spock speculatively. “Speaking of different, what did you make me?” He rubbed his hands together.
Blinking away the image of Kirk’s hands chafing against one other, Spock revealed the containers of food. “I have brought plomeek soup, kreyla, which has a similar texture as human bread, and a salad using ingredients native to Vulcan.”
Kirk took the container of soup Spock handed him, opened the top and inhaled deeply. “Your favorite food.”
“You conveyed an interest in ‘my favourite foods.’ Although they cannot be favourites as Vulcan’s do not express favoritism, these dishes could be described as being the most edifying to my palate.” Spock arranged the dishes between them.
“Are you sure, Spock? No favoritism at all, to anything?” He shifted five inches closer to where Spock knelt. “Or, more importantly--anyone?”
“Affirmative.” Spock placed two sets of cutlery on the blanket.
Kirk poked him in the chest and Spock looked up from his arrangement. “Have you ever made any one a picnic before?” Kirk asked, lowering his eyelashes.
Spock blinked. “Negative.” Kirk blinked back. Upon further analysis, Spock realized this would be an advantageous time to proceed to the ‘lay the love on thick’ step of his experiment.
“I made an error in my previous statement on favoritism.” Spock steadied himself for a most unnaturally Vulcan declaration, one, however, that would be made for science. “I do favour one particular human.” Spock stared at Kirk, unblinking. “You, Jim.”
Kirk was watching Spock, his mouth a gape. “Wow. That… well that was easier than I expected.” He smiled, one that reached his eyes making them uncomfortably bright. Spock forced himself not to look away. “So, Vulcans don’t lie, right?”
“They do not.” Spock gripped his chopstick, moving it between his fingers. Vulcans do not lie. He repeated the phrase in his head. No, it was not a lie. Spock did prefer Jim to other humans. That was his problem.
Kirk rested a hand on Spock’s knee briefly. These sudden touches, lasting only seconds, were never enough to break Spock’s mental shields, but enough to light a bright spark of feeling in the back of his mind. He wondered if Kirk knew what he was doing, if these grazes against Spock’s knees, his arms, his back, were a part of Kirk’s seduction techniques.
“Well, Spock. You’re my favourite Vulcan,” Kirk replied.
Spock let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. “There is a ninety one percent probability that I am the only Vulcan you are acquainted with.”
Kirk huffed. “It doesn’t matter. You’d still be my favourite Vulcan even if I knew every single Vulcan alive.” He took a sip of his soup, slurping loudly.
“Illogical. You would not know the truth of this unless you had indeed met every Vulcan alive.” He watched Kirk take a bit of the kreyla, using his hands to eat it as no Vulcan ever would.
“Some things you just know,” Kirk spoke around a mouth full of food. “And this I do.” He swallowed. “You know, I heard Vulcan food was pretty bland, but this stuff is good.” He filled his mouth again.
“Your illogical statements once again confound me; however I am gratified you find the food palatable.” He took a sip from his own bowl of plomeek before continuing. “I made slight modifications based on my mother’s recipes. As a human, she added what she deemed, ‘improvements,’ to common Vulcan dishes that she found bland compared to her native dishes.”
“Let her know I’m a big fan of her improvements.” Kirk finished off the rest of his soup by tipping his head back and emptying the remaining contents into his mouth. A pink tongue peeked out between his lips to gather the remaining liquid left on his lips. “So, does that whole, ‘you’re my favorite human,’ out of the blue comment mean you’re into me.”
“I am not in you, Jim, but obviously outside you.”
Kirk started at him, or rather through him, his eyes slightly glazed. “Don’t put thoughts like that in my head, Spock.”
“Clarify.”
“Yeah, no. Bad idea.” Kirk shook his head roughly. “Never mind that, don’t be coy, I’ve given you enough human slang lessons by now, you gotta know what I’m talking about.”
Kirk had given Spock an opportunity to make the declaration of love Vro had recommended. Taking a measured breath, Spock considered the cadet for a moment.
“I am fond of you, Jim,” Spock murmured. Although he had already expressed more terms of affection than he was comfortable with in a single conversation, he knew this would not be enough to establish a flight response in the human. “I also find you aesthetically pleasing. I wish…” Spock paused to take another steadying breath. “To embark on a romantic relationship with you.”
“Jackpot!” Kirk raised a fist in the air and Spock was momentarily startled by the aggressive movement. “I thought I’d have to drag a confession out of you kicking and screaming. You’re more unpredictable than you think, Spock.” More swiftly than Spock could count the seconds, Kirk had maneuvered himself until their thighs were touching. Neither had pulled away after one minute passed. Much of this time Kirk spent gazing into Spock’s eyes, while Spock stared back, unable to break the contact and unsure how to proceed.
Spock blinked. The picnic and Spock’s declaration of romantic intent had had little effect on Kirk’s attitude. In fact, the cadet seemed more adamant than ever if, as Spock hypothesized, the glazed look in Kirk’s eyes signified feelings of lust. He must be more resilient than Vro’s human suitors had been. Apparently, Spock would have to ‘up the ante.’
“If my… feelings are reciprocated, and if you are amenable, I wish to continue our interaction later this evening over dinner at 19:00 hours.”
Kirk gave him a slow grin. “You warmed up real quick, Spock.”
“I am wearing an extra thermal layer due to the decrease in temperature over the autumn months, which keeps me sufficiently warm. Are you amendable?”
Leaning back on an elbow, Kirk looked up at Spock. The angle of Kirk’s face at this height was pleasing. “I am very amenable,” he replied.
*
…the human emotion ‘jealousy’ is often a destructive force within human relationships causing correlated feelings of distrust and resentment between two parties…
Kirk had distracted Spock during their evening meal by drawing him into discussions about chess strategies, the latest starship model being used to build the fleet’s new flagship, the cadet’s continued obsession with the Kobayashi Maru, and a myriad of other topics. Spock estimated they spent 4.7 minutes together in silence, most of which had transpired while Jim used the restroom. After being driven home by hover bike, Spock had invited Jim in for tea. Although he was aware of the implications of this offer to humans, Spock was not prepared to take his experiment to such extremes. However, to not invite Jim in would seem standoffish and perpetuate Kirk’s hunting instincts. Though surprised, Spock was relieved when Kirk refused because of an exam he needed to prepare for. Spock had gotten the distinct impression it was unlike Kirk to refuse such offers. Perhaps Spock’s efforts to elude Kirk were already working. The next day, Spock decided to test the results of the first stage of his experiment.
Spock waited outside Kirk’s tactical strategies classroom. When he recognized a blond head emerging from the door among a group of peers, he called out.
“Jim.”
“Spock, hey!” Jim waved his hand over a Tellarite’s head, jumping up a down, and then inched his way across to Spock through gaps among the crowd of students. “Hi.” He grinned, looking up at Spock from where he stood, two inches from Spock’s body. “Thanks for yesterday. The dinner and the picnic. It was really great.”
“Thanks are not required. However, I am pleased you had a pleasant time.” Spock ignored the natural instincts telling him to put distance between them. “Will you join me for lunch? I reviewed your schedule and noticed you have no classes over the next two hours.”
Kirk raised his eyebrows. “Been stalking me, huh? That’s pretty flattering. But, I can’t. I made plans to meet Bones for lunch.” His eyes brightened. “But, you can join us. I want to introduce you to Bones, anyway. I bet you guys would really get along.”
Spock frowned. His plan to overwhelm Kirk with romance would be dulled by the presence of another. However, any refusal could initiate Kirk’s human instinct to chase after his prospective mate.
“I will join you.” And though he was disgruntled to admit it, there was a sense of curiosity about the human named Bones who Kirk spoke much off. In fact, here was another opportunity to put one of Vro’s suggestions to practice.
“Great, let’s go.” Kirk grabbed Spock’s upper arm, tugging him down the hall toward the mess.
Kirk approached a man who, Spock observed from the amount of lines on his face, was in his early thirties. He was seated, eating a salad rather voraciously. From the familiar way Kirk greeted him, slapping the man on the arm, declaring loudly, “hey, old man, you started without me!” Spock assumed this was indeed, Bones.
Bones started, then waved his fork in a threatening manner at Kirk. “You took too long and I’m damn hungry. Here,” he pushed another plate full of salad toward Kirk. “Eat this.” Bending his head, Bones continued eating his own meal.
“Spock, this is Bones. Bones this is Spock.” Bones’ head snapped back up and he glared at Spock. It was not a very welcoming expression though from the way he had addressed Kirk, who apparently was his friend, Spock was not surprised by the man’s unfriendly demeanor. Kirk moved to the other side of the table to pull out a chair. Instead of seating himself in it, he looked to Spock and gestured toward the chair.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Do you require assistance?”
“No, Spock,” he laughed. “I’m trying to be a gentleman. Have a seat.”
Normally, Spock would protest such a gesture. It was superfluous; Spock was capable of pulling out his own chair. However, he yielded. Challenging Kirk would only ruin Spock’s original strategy. “Thank you,” he responded, lowering himself into the chair against his better nature. Bones’ belligerent glare had remained on Spock the entire time.
Kirk placed the salad plate Bones had acquired in front of Spock. “Here, Spock, you like vegetables. I’m going to grab a burger, be right back.” Spock watched him leave. The idea of being alone in the presence of Kirk’s cantankerous friend was an unpleasant one.
“So. You’re, Spock,” Bones grunted.
“I am.” Although Kirk had described Bones as a more logical being through his negative responses to Kirk’s often perilous activities, the man was still prone to illogical repetition of facts just like his other fellow humans.
“Was beginning to think you weren’t real, the way Jim talks about you.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “I am real, as you can see. Does Jim experience hallucinations?”
“No.” Bones crossed his arms. “Though the way he works himself to the bone it’s a miracle he isn’t seeing angels.”
“Jim does have an abnormally full schedule for a human with limited stamina.”
“You’re telling me! If he keeps up at this pace, he’ll have an aneurism at twenty five before he gets his precious captain stripes.” Bones speared a slice of cucumber with gratuitous aggression. “You should talk to him. Tell him to slow down and breathe. Maybe he’d listen to you.”
“If Jim ignores the advice of a qualified medical professional, as I have been informed you are, I highly doubt my input on the matter would make any difference.”
“Ha! He’s smitten.” Bones pointed a single finger at Spock. “With you. He’d probably do anything you tell him.”
Spock drew his brows together. “That has not been my experience, so far.”
“You must be going about it all wrong. Dangle the carrot in front of the donkey. Give him something good in exchange,” Bones gestured. “For example, tell Jim you’ll let him grope your ass if he shows up for his medical appointment next week.”
Spock straightened. “What donkey are you referring to?”
“You’re not talking shit about me, are you Bones?” Kirk had returned with a large plate filled with what Spock assumed was a burger, and what appeared to be deep fried wedges of potato.
“Nah, just telling him all the gooey stuff you’ve been saying about him.” Bones raised his voice a pitch higher. “Ooo, he’s so smart, Bones, so handsome!” His gruff voice returned. “On and on like a lovesick puppy.”
Kirk held up his hands. “Spock, don’t listen to him, he’s delusional. Doesn’t sleep enough. He hears things.”
“If he is hearing you speak words you did not speak, it would be logical for Bones to seek the aid of a doctor specializing in the human brain.”
Kirk was laughing. Spock did not think laughing in the presence of a potentially mentally ill man was wise.
“I’m a doctor, and there’s nothing wrong with my brain. He’s the one that needs looking at!” Bones thrust an accusatory finger at Kirk. “Keeps skipping his damn medicals. You think you’re invincible, Jim. Well you ain’t. And you!” He turned his aggression on Spock. “Don’t call me Bones, pointy.”
“Pointy? Is that a derogatory reference? Starfleet regulations forbid the use of xenophobic statements.”
Bones grimaced. “This one is a barrel of laughs.”
“Vulcans do not laugh.”
“No really?” Bones grimaced. “Never would have guessed.”
Kirk had been watching their interlude in uncharacteristic silence, his head moving back and forth between them, a grin spreading across his face.
Bones’ aggressive attitude toward Spock and belligerent protectiveness toward Kirk, as well as Kirk’s apparent joy over their disagreement, reminded Spock of an emotion he had been reading extensively on as part of his research. The direction of their conversation was proving advantageous for the next part of his experiment.
“Your attitude toward me denotes hints of jealously.”
Bones stilled placing down his fork. Kirk scooped up a handful of fries, shoving them into his mouth. “Jealous of what?” Bones asked.
“Perhaps I have been misled on the depth of your relationship to Jim. Unless your feelings toward him are unrequited.”
“Are you-" Bones spluttered, having trouble forming words. “Are you telling me-Good God, man! Now you’re the delusional one here. Jealous! About him?” He flung an arm in Kirk’s direction, missing his face by 3.4 centimeters.
“Hey!” Kirk looked at Bones, his eyes widening and his mouth pulling down into an expression of discontent. This emotional response indicated that Bones’ feelings may not be unreciprocated after all. Spock frowned, thoughts of displeasure invading his scientific neutrality.
“A human might say, ‘he doth protest too much.’”
Bones slammed a fist on the table, the force knocking a few potato wedges off Kirk’s plate, which the cadet quickly salvaged, scooping them into his mouth. “I’m protesting too much because this needs a whole lot of protesting,” Bones yelled. “There’s no way, no how, no possibility at all that I want Jim. He ain’t even close to my type. Can’t even stand him most of the time.”
“Come on Bonesy, you love me really.” Jim moved his arm, placing it against Bones’ shoulder. Perhaps the unrequited feelings actually belonged to Kirk, Spock considered, this idea even more disagreeable than the last.
“Don’t touch me with those greasy fingers, Jim. Goddammit, eat a damn salad for once before you clog up your arteries and I’m the one stuck giving you CPR.”
“Don’t worry, Bones. I know you can always make my heart beat again.” Kirk blinked his eyes rapidly, an action Spock was beginning to believe was flirtatious in nature rather than medical.
“I’d leave you dead on the floor if I wasn’t a doctor and ethically forced to heal idiots like you.” Bones moved out of Kirk’s grasp, but Jim latched on to him again. As he watched Jim’s fingers squeeze into Bones’ shoulder, Spock felt a rising pressure at the back of his throat.
He stood abruptly, his chair screeching as it slid back against the floor. “This is unacceptable.” Spock moved the muscles of his face into the imitation of a glower, an expression that was easier to attempt than he expected. “You should not be laying your hands on other men.”
Kirk and Bones, distracted from their strange, insensible bickering, a contrast of affection and distaste, stared at Spock in disbelief. Bones was the first to speak. “Happy to oblige.” He shifted out of Kirk’s grasp again, and returned to devouring his salad. Jim did not move to touch Bones again; instead he griped Spock’s arm, as always, unable to leave his hands empty.
“Hey, sorry, Spock. I didn’t mean anything, seriously. We’re just joking around.” Jim squeezed the flesh under his hand. A shiver ran up Spock’s spine.
“You better be joking,” Bones grumbled.
Spock averted his gaze. “It is unseemly to touch one who is not one’s mate.”
“Mating! Disgusting-you better be doing it at his place and not ours.”
Spock focused his gaze on Bones. “It is also improper to be sharing a residence with a romantic interest who you are not courting.”
“I am no one’s romantic interest!” Bones yelled.
Kirk’s hand slid down Spock’s arm, to land, unmoving, on Spock’s hand. The rush of human emotion that flooded Spock with the unhindered contact shook his mental shields. He forced his muscles to remain still. “We’re just roommates, Spock.” Jim said. “I promise you, there is nothing romantic between me and Bones, and never will be.”
“Damn straight.” Bones muttered.
“Your actions and speech demonstrate otherwise.”
Jim’s hand moved across Spock’s skin, his fingers slipping between Spock’s. “Don’t be mad. There’s nothing to be jealous of.” Spock’s hand twitched in response, a sign of his faltering shields.
Spock rearranged his expression into one of distaste. “Do you touch all your friends as you touch me? If so, my feelings on the matter are justified.”
“I didn’t think Vulcans would get jealous. This is kinda interesting.” Jim rubbed a thumb along Spock’s.
“Vulcans do not get jealous,” Spock snapped before thinking. The point of this obscene display was to participate in the human act of jealousy and put pressure on Kirk, not to refute it.
“Oh, really? But what if I do this?” Removing his hand from Spock’s, an action that sent a shameful sense of irritation into his thoughts, Jim practically jumped into Bones’ lap. Bones froze and a vein on the side of his forehead twitched, giving Spock the image of a time bomb about to explode. Indeed, Spock could use the metaphor to describe the dark sensation flooding his feigned indifference at the sight of Jim so intimately seated on top of another.
“Hi, Bones, you miss me?” Jim pressed his lips to Bones’ right cheek. Spock clenched his fingers under the table, nails digging into his palm.
“Get the hell offa me!” Bones roared, standing abruptly, Kirk tumbling off his lap and crashing to the floor in a peal of laughter. Bones rubbed a hand roughly against his cheek.
Spock took a step back. “If it is your intention to ignore my concerns and instead provoke me, I will excuse myself.” As he turned to leave, Spock realized he had let his own fractured control affect his response. Running away from Kirk would likely have the opposite affect Spock intended.
His assumption was correct. “Spock!” Jim scrambled up from the floor, grabbing Spock’s shoulder before he could take more than a step away from his turbulent emotions. “It’s a joke, I’m teasing. I’m sorry, don’t leave.”
It was necessary to salvage his experiment before he caused Kirk to become more persistent in his romantic efforts. Spock was feeling emotions that would normally be carefully contained behind his mental shields, and Kirk’s unhinged affection toward him, however fleeting it may prove to be, was heightening Spock’s reactions. He could not allow this to continue.
Allowing the emotion Spock predicted was showing on his face to remain for added affect, Spock turned to face Kirk. “If you wish for me to remain, you must cease your flagrant groping of other sentient beings. I am finding it most disturbing.”
“You’re jealous.” Kirk removed his hand from Spock’s arm. Spock felt like he could finally breathe easily again.
Acknowledgment of feeling was not an easy task for Spock, but one necessary to his research. “Perhaps,” he responded.
“That’s the understatement of the year.” Bones muttered in the background. “That look on your face. Thought you were gonna tear my head off.”
Kirk fidgeting with his fingers, a reaction, Spock had noticed, displayed the cadet’s nervousness. “You have to believe me. That touchy feely stuff with Bones really was a joke. I’m just messing with him--it’s what we do.”
“And I wish you’d stop before you give me an aneurism,” Bones replied.
“The way I touch Bones, isn’t the way I touch you,” Kirk smiled. “I’ll prove it.” Kirk’s hand moved upward, landing on Spock’s cheek. Closing the distance between them, he pressed his lips against Spock’s. They remained there for only a few seconds, yet the sensation remained on Spock’s skin long after Kirk pulled away.
“Goddammit!” Bones yelled. “Get a room!” Several other cadets in the vicinity turned at the sudden uproar. Spock felt heat rise to his cheeks. Although Kirk was not a student in one of his credit courses, Spock had no desire to be seen fraternizing in public. Kirk was watching him, his eyes filled with questions Spock was not prepared to answer. Once again, Spock’s experiment had derailed. Kirk was handling every emotional response Spock assailed him with remarkable composure and resilience.
Fascinating.
It would be necessary for Spock to regroup and attempt another stratagem. Spock breathed, stabilizing his voice. “Understood. I have a class in ten minutes, please excuse me.” He nodded to Bones, stared at Kirk a few moments longer than necessary, and then fled in as composed a manner as he could muster.
*
…Frequent and repetitive declarations of love can often create a ‘fight or flight’ response in the human male. Expressions of emotion, although at first desired, may become monotonous to humans who prefer the excitement of a challenge when pursuing their mate…
After repetitive failures at deterring Kirk’s romantic feelings toward him, Spock once again went to seek Cadet Vro’s advice.
“You’re being too Vulcan,” Vro replied after Spock described his previous experiments. “You gotta get under his skin. But not physically,” Gaila cautioned. “Jim is a sexaholic. Do it once and you’ll never get him off your back.” She nodded sagely. Spock tried not to think about the specific expertise Gaila would have about Kirk’s sexual inclinations. 'Vulcans do not get jealous,' Spock repeated as a mantra in his head. “Get more emotional with him.” Gaila continued. “Talk about your feelings, like all the time.”
“Vulcans do not talk about their feelings. I have minimal experience in such conversation.”
“Exactly. That’s why Jim’s fawning all over you. There’s still a mysterious part of you he hasn’t dug up yet.” Gaila grinned. “Your feelings.”
“He did express enjoyment in provoking me into a state of jealously during our last interaction.”
Gaila snorted. “I bet he did.”
To prepare himself for these recommended emotional outbursts, Spock halved the amount of meditative trances he participated in. He would have to stay on his guard. His lowered shields could create turmoil under extreme conditions. However, the more fragile state he was now experiencing would make it easier to express emotions a fully functional Vulcan would never allow to be heard.
At Vro’s advisement, Spock had begun calling Kirk repeatedly every day, once quite early in the morning in the hopes of disturbing the cadet’s sleep before one of his more trying tactical classes. Kirk had answered the call on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep.
“Spock!” he blurted out, evident distress in his tone. “Are you okay?”
“I am functional.” Spock had replied after a pause, the greeting not what he had been expecting from a human roused from required rest.
Spock heard Kirk’s sigh on the other end, imagining the puff of air slipping from his lips, hitting the speaker of his communicator and the sensation it would create against his own ear. Apparently, Spock’s lack of meditation was already affecting his logic.
“Thank, God.” Kirk breathed. “I saw your name on my comm and freaked. What is it, five in the morning?” Spock felt a measure of guilt for causing Jim distress. He knew Kirk repeatedly sacrificed sleep in order to keep up with his accelerated course schedule. “You sure you okay, what’s up?”
“As I previously noted, I am functional. Nothing is up other than the ceiling of my residence and a circular lighting fixture. I am calling to wish you good morning, as I have been told it is common practice among humans to greet loved ones upon waking and to be reassured by the sound of their voice before starting one’s daily tasks.”
Kirk made an indistinguishable sound. “So. I’m one of your loved ones, hmm?”
Silence.
“Spock, you there? Can you hear me? Spock? Hey, Spock, you love me lots, huh? Just wanted to hear my voice, did you miss me? Spock.” Kirk’s voice shifted into a lyrical tone, his pitch higher. “Spock. Spock!” Spock gripped his comm tighter. There was an audible cracking sound from the casing.
“I am present. My auditory system is functional.” A pause. “I feel a sizeable amount of affection for you. The sound of your voice is indeed quite pleasant.” Spock released some of the tension in his fingers lest his comm break and communication become interrupted. “I do, indeed, notice the lack of your presence when you are not near, and in such instances, desire to be in your vicinity 98.3 percent of the time.”
“Only 98.3 percent of the time?” The distress had returned to Jim’s voice, likely exaggerated to provoke an emotional response from Spock.
“It would not be desirable for you to be in my presence during more private activities.”
“Mmm, okay I get it. You don’t want me to see you taking a dump or picking your nose.”
“I do not pick my nose. It is unhygienic.”
“Sure, Spock, whatever you say,” Kirk’s inflated tone denoted the use of human sarcasm.
“Vulcans do not lie.”
“You got me there.” Kirk chuckled. “Gotta admit, this whole anti-lying thing you got going has its advantages. It’s nice not having to question everything a person says.”
Spock paused. He did not lie. Although Spock was expressing feelings he would normally never say out loud, it did not mean they were untruths. Spock had never lied outright to Jim. However, there was a measure of deception is his current actions toward Kirk, despite the logic of his reasoning to dissuade Jim from his fixation. “Indeed,” Spock answered. “If only humans had the same predilection.”
Kirk did not speak for 8.8 seconds. Spock began to wonder if the cadet had fallen asleep, when his voice returned, his humorous tone gone. “Hey, Spock. You should know--you don’t have to question my feelings. I’m not playing games, here.”
Spock blinked, his grip upon his communicator once again becoming destructive. The undisputable fact that humans did lie, even if some only on occasion, prevented Spock from being able to truly believe Kirk’s words.
“I know what it’s like to get screwed around by people you care about.” Spock’s eyes fluttered shut as he listened to the sound of Kirk breathing through his comm. “I won’t bore you with the details,” Kirk murmured, his voice hushed, “but, I just want you to know that I’m serious. About you.”
Illogically, Spock wanted to believe Kirk’s affection for him was genuine, and not believe it at the same time for the sake of his own control. Jim brought out human feelings in Spock, emotions he had kept hidden most of his life. To settle the warmth suddenly flooding his body, Spock reminded himself of Kirk’s flirtations, his obsession with the Kobayashi Maru and Spock’s involvement in the test, as well as the dubious conversation Uhura had overheard
“Your assurance on this matter is appreciated,” Spock replied, his voice sounding like a stranger’s, lacking the detached tone that had remained unbroken since childhood. “My apologies for disturbing your rest.”
“S’okay, Spock.” Kirk yawned. “You call me any time.”
Spock would do as Kirk requested for the next few days, calling Jim for assurances of his wellbeing, to ask him the meaning of a human idiom he had heard one of his students say, to make a simple observation he doubted Kirk would have interest in, to share an interlude Spock had found particularly fascinating, to give an affectionate statement, which Vro had convinced Spock was necessary, or ‘just to hear the sound of his voice.’ Despite Spock’s persistence, Kirk never expressed irritation during one of Spock’s communications, nor did he ask that Spock desist. In fact, Kirk’s voice articulated delight whenever he answered one of Spock’s calls.
*
…The ultimate offense that can be made against a human who is only seeking the benefits of a casual relationship, is to invade the sacred ‘bachelor pad’ by infiltrating his private space with signs of domesticity…
After dressing, this time out of his uniform and into more casual attire, a set of robes he wore while off duty, Spock proceeded to Kirk’s apartment by air car. Spock had called Kirk earlier in the day and invited himself over for dinner in an attempt to invade Kirk’s ‘personal space,’ as Vro described it. As Kirk had displayed no qualms about having his space invaded is the past, Spock was skeptical whether this particular experiment would succeed.
This would be Spock’s third evening meal spent at Jim’s home. The first two meals, Bones, Kirk’s friend and living companion, was also in attendance. Spock had used the situation to become possessive of Jim again, questioning the cadets’ living arrangements, asking how frequently they shared a bed, whether Bones was currently involved in a romantic relationship, as well as keeping an eye on Kirk’s hands. Whenever Jim stood too close to Bones, Spock would immediately insert himself between them or pull Kirk away. Bones expressed his irritation frequently and loudly. Jim seemed to find the whole ordeal humorous. Although expressing exaggerated jealousy irritated Bones into apoplectic episodes, Kirk found it endearing and increased his affection toward Spock significantly after each emotional outburst, usually through human kisses or by wrapping his hand around Spock’s. This evening, however, Bones would not be home. Therefore, Spock planned to attempt another strategy, which Vro promised was practically ‘foolproof.’
“Spock,” Kirk announced as he answered his door 2.3 seconds after Spock rung the bell, kissing Spock on the cheek. “Glad you could make it.”
“I agreed to arrive at your residence at 19:00 hours as you informed me would be an agreeable time. Excepting any unforeseen circumstances, there should have been no uncertainty about my attendance.”
Kirk patted Spock on the back, his hand sliding down Spock’s spine to land at his waste. “I hope you’re hungry, I made loads of food.” He guided Spock into the entranceway, Kirk’s hand a firm pressure against his lower back. “What’s in the bag?”
“Necessities.”
Kirk grinned. “Okay, mystery guy, you can put it down wherever.”
“I am not a ‘mystery guy.’ We have been acquainted for 81.8 days.” He placed his duffel bag down on the hallway floor.
“Yeah, but there’s still loads about you that’s still a mystery,” he tapped Spock on the chest and headed toward the fridge.
Mystery fueled the human sexual fires, according to Cadet Vro. Spock must assuage Kirk’s fire immediately. The contents of his bag would assist in this.
“What do you want to drink?” Jim called, his body hidden behind the fridge door. “Tea? I got some of that Vulcan stuff you like. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, Gaila gave me a bottle of something. She told me to drink it with someone special.”
Spock had begun removing the contents of his bag and placing them in appropriate locations in Kirk’s rooms. “That would be acceptable.”
“Really? Okay, Gaila’s mystery booze it is.” He heard Kirk moving around the kitchen, opening cupboards, placing glasses on the counter, liquid filling them. Spock removed the last item from the bag, his toothbrush, and placed it a cup in the bathroom. He washed his hands then joined Kirk in the kitchen.
“Cheers, Spock.” Kirk handed him a glass filled with a dark brown liquid. “To mystery.” Kirk took a sip of his drink, and Spock mimicked him. The beverage was sweet and thick with the sharp bite of alcohol as an aftertaste. Spock took another sip.
Jim had indeed made a substantial amount of food, the table covered in various vegetarian dishes. “Hope it’s all okay. Bones nearly fainted when he saw me cooking with vegetables.”
“Despite his many faults, the doctor is correct in his estimation of your diet. An increase in vegetable and fruit ingredients is likely to improve your immune system by 78 percent.”
“Glad to hear you guys agree on something. I didn’t even have to ask Bones for some alone time to wine and dine you. He made a beeline for the door when I told him you were coming over.”
“The feeling, I believe, is mutual.” Spock began tasting the dishes. They were not unappetizing.
“Just wait, you guys’ll be best buds in no time. You just gotta warm up to each other.” Kirk filled his plate.
“Unlikely.” Spock took another long sip of his drink, sending a volley of heat from his stomach to his head. “I have no desire to be warmed by any other being than you.”
“You’re becoming a real sweet talker, Spock.” Jim smiled at him.
Spock raised an eyebrow and continued drinking. The sensation it was causing was extremely pleasant.
The evening continued in much the same fashion, the two finishing the bottle of liquor and much of Jim’s culinary efforts between them. By the end of dinner, Spock was feeling quite illogical. Jim’s eyes had been shining at him during the whole meal, and Spock could not remember the last time he blinked. An irrational desire had overcome him to not let Jim out of his sight for even a second.
At some point, his right hand had made it into Jim’s left, a movement Spock remembered making himself when Kirk had started discussing the latest discoveries in warp theory. Their fingers were now so closely entwined, Jim’s haphazard swirl of emotions mixing with Spock’s through the contact, that Spock was unsure where his flesh began and where Jim’s ended. This illusion was likely assisted by the faint haze interrupting his vision, a haze, Spock hypothesized, caused by intoxication from one of the ingredients in Gaila’s alcohol. Jim’s hair looked unusually luminescent under the overhead lighting and Spock was overcome by an overwhelming urge to touch it, so he did. And one he began, Spock had trouble stopping. He had been running the fingers of his left hand though Kirk’s hair for several indeterminate minutes, the fingers of his right making slow torturous movements against Kirk’s knuckles, when he felt pressure and the tingle of presence against the line of his jaw, the edge of one ear, over his lips.
“Jim,” Spock murmured. His mind wanted to say more, but his mouth was having trouble forming the words.
“I know, Spock.” And then Jim’s lips were on his, and Spock knew nothing but the feel of Jim’s mouth against his, Jim’s fingers against his own and the bright swell of Kirk’s emotions seeping into his mind.
Spock lost track of the time they spent wrapped up in each other. At some point they had made it to the couch, Jim’s body pinned underneath his, Jim’s shirt removed, tossed to some unknown location, and Jim’s hands underneath Spock’s robes. This is the position Spock found himself in when Bones came storming into the room yelling. Spock was having trouble understanding, his head filled with the feel, smell, heat of Jim.
“What the hell is this?” Bones was holding up a black handled tooth brush. “And this!” Bones lifted up a black bath robe. “Good, God!” Bones turned abruptly. “Can’t you do that shit in your room, Jim? Other people sit on that couch, you know!”
Jim twisted his head around to stare at Bones from where he lay stretched out on the couch. “You’re killing the mood, Bones.” He reached up toward Spock, linking his fingers behind Spock’s neck. Although a voice, faint, hidden at the back of his mind behind a cloud of emotion, said it would be wise to, Spock did not pull away.
“Stop canoodling and answer my damn question.” He shook the articles in his hands emphatically. “What the hell is going on? You can’t just move a Vulcan in without telling your roommate. You know--me!” Bones thrust a finger, banging it against the middle of his chest as if Jim had forgotten who Bones was. Though, in their current state, Spock supposed it was possible to forget such obvious facts.
Jim sighed, and shifted under Spock to free more of his body. Spock frowned, the loss of contact against Jim’s skin undesirable. “What are you going on about, Bones?”
“I just found these in the bathroom.” Bones shook the offending articles in his hand again.
Now that most of his body had separated from Jim’s, breaking their connection, a modicum of sense returned to Spock’s brain. “The items you found are my toothbrush, and my bathrobe,” he answered, his voice thick, his words blurring together.
“No really. And what, may I ask, are your things doing in my bathroom.” Bones complained.
Spock moved to the edge of the couch and straightened, untangling the rest of his body from Jim’s. He scrambled to reconstruct enough of his shields to continue the experiment he had put into place for the evening. “Possessing a toothbrush is necessary for routine oral health. The bathrobe seemed necessary to adhere to human modesty. I did not think you would enjoy seeing me leave the bathroom nude. And the bathroom in question is not yours, but jointly shared by you and Jim.” Allowing his shields to slip completely had been a terrible error. He could still feel the ghost of Jim’s fingers on his skin, no matter how hard he tried not to think about what just happened, and what almost did happen.
Bones’ face turned an unhealthy shade of red. As a doctor, Spock thought, Bones should be more aware of his rising blood pressure. “You got any sense left in that head of yours, kid?” He turned his attention back to Kirk. “Or has all the blood rushed to your dick? There’s no way you’re moving this green blooded hobgoblin in on me.”
Jim was staring at Spock now, a question in his eye. “Spock? You trying to tell me something?”
Spock raised an eyebrow in return. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus all his emotion into only a single gesture. He would require a long bout of meditation upon his return to his own quarters. “As I am spending a greater portion of my days in your presence, it seemed logical I move my necessities into your home for convenience sake.”
Jim watched Spock in silence, his lips parted, an expression of surprise. Bones was muttering about nothing of consequence. Spock wondered if his experiment was finally having the effect he had hypothesized for his paper. Although such a result would help him form a conclusion for his research, Spock felt uneasy by Kirk’s silence. An emotion no doubt caused by Spock’s broken shields and lack of meditation.
“So, are you saying you wanna move in?” Jim finally answered, his voice quieter than usual.
“As we have a mutually agreed upon affection and attraction toward each other, it would be logical to share a living space. This is a feature of human mating rituals that is shared by Vulcans.”
Jim eyed Spock warily. “Are you sure this isn’t some, ‘I’m trying to conform to human norms’ thing? Because you don’t have to push yourself, Spock. I can wait.”
Spock frowned. “Negative.”
The edges of Jim’s mouth lifted, his eyes brightening significantly. “Well, okay then, sure. You know how I feel, Spock. I can’t get enough of you.” Kirk tuned to Bones. “He’ll share my room, of course. You know he’s clean and quiet. It’s not like he’s gonna keep you up all night like I do.”
“Oh, hell no!” Bones roared. ‘This is not happening.”
Spock stilled. He had been sure the sudden infiltration into Kirk’s home would cause a fissure in his infatuation for Spock. However, now it seemed only more firmly placed. Spock had made a grave mistake, one he feared he could not escape from without casualties.
Kirk had jumped off the couch and was busy comforting Bones, attempting to persuade him. Spock still felt lightheaded, a loud hum filling his ears, the strange liquor and his broken shields unstabilizing him. He must leave, remove himself from Jim’s presence quickly, and place himself away from sight, before Spock caused any more damage.
Spock stood, swaying slightly in place. “I must leave,” he declared, his voice overly loud in his ears. “I will leave you two to discuss the matter and reach a conclusion.” He moved toward the apartment’s entrance.
“Spock, wait.” Kirk followed him to where Spock was fumbling with his shoes. “I don’t know what was in that drink, but you’re kinda drunk. Stay the night, your stuff is here already, might as well.” He placed a hand on Spock’s shoulder. Spock flinched.
“That would not be wise.” Kirk’s hand slipped away, resting limply against his side. The sight of Kirk’s empty fingers caused a tightening against Spock’s side, his heart beating several times faster than its normal rate.
“I won’t take advantage, Spock. I’ll sleep on the couch if you want. I don’t want you going home like this.”
“It is not you I am afraid of Jim, but myself. I require meditation. It would be best if I return to my residence for the night until I am once again sober.” He moved to the door, turning to face Kirk once more. “We will speak tomorrow.”
Kirk watched him, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Okay, Spock. Call me, alright?”
Spock nodded, and left, the humming in his ears following him out of the building and into the street.
*
…Although humans often lie to avoid emotional confrontation within relationships, an excessive amount of deception will eventually lead to separation…
Meditation had returned Spock to a logical state of mind. However, now he was sensible again, the situation he had entangled himself in seemed unsolvable without disrupting his research, or revealing his recent tactical efforts against Kirk and injuring the cadet’s feelings. The utter lack of distaste from Kirk over Spock’s abnormal behavior during the past 1.7 months made Spock believe that Kirk was honestly devoted to him exclusively. Once again, Spock had made a grave error in underestimating Kirk, as well as the strength of his own emotions toward the cadet.
The scientific decision would be to continue his experiment until its conclusion whether it proved the depth of human fickleness or the strength of human commitment. An incorrect scientific theory was just an invaluable as a correct one. Living together, spending time constantly in each other’s presence would be the ultimate test of Kirk’s affection. As well as Spock’s own. His utter lack of control last night, non-withstanding his intoxication and lowered shields, had questioned the validity of Spock’s indifference toward Kirk. Spock knew he was fascinated by Kirk before the experiment began, but he had not comprehended how deeply his attraction run. Even 12.2 hours spent in meditation had not removed the remembrance of Kirk’s hands sliding against his own, and the ecstasy his connection with Kirk had caused. Getting to the truth of his feelings and Kirk’s was logical. Completing the paper he had promised T’Pring was logical. Therefore, at a reasonable hour, Spock called Kirk to confirm his intentions and to discover if Kirk’s decision had been swayed by a sober mind and the complaints of the ever disagreeable Bones.
Kirk had not been influenced by either. He was committed. Spock felt slightly dismayed and more strongly pleased. Illogical.
Before ending their communication, Kirk offered to help Spock move his possessions to Kirk’s apartment. Although the assistance was unrequired, Spock welcomed it and the chance to be within Kirk’s presence once again. Kirk agreed to meet Spock at his residence Saturday afternoon at 15:00.
When Kirk arrived, Spock had already placed his few possessions in boxes ready for efficient transport. ”Is this everything?” Kirk asked, staring down at the boxes, hands on his hips, a grin on his face.
“Affirmative.” Spock placed his work bag and PADD on top of the small pile.
“I borrowed Bones’ car, so we can pile everything in there. I told Bones there’d be loads of room-you hardly own anything.”
“I admit surprise at hearing the doctor had agreed to our arrangement.” Indeed, Spock had assumed Bones would veto the move in, freeing Spock from any finalizing decisions.
“I’m not. I told you he’d warm up to you eventually. I just went on about how you’d be a good influence on me. Eating more vegetables, going to bed earlier, maybe even some calming meditation. Bones is a smart guy, he knows you’re good for me.” Kirk winked.
“I believe,” Spock said after a pause, “that the benefits are mutual.” Spock bent to retrieve one of his boxes, eager to hide the warmth he felt suddenly spreading across his cheeks.
“Hey, wait.” Jim tugged on Spock’s arm drawing Spock’s body flush against his. Despite Vro’s warning about Kirk’s sexual compulsions, Spock was losing the will to resist Jim’s caresses. In fact, now that they would be sharing a room, Spock, illogical he had not come to the conclusion sooner, realized it would become increasingly impossible to ignore Kirk’s libido. “We never got to finish what we started last night.” Jim slid a hand down Spock’s arm to grip his fingers, pressing his lips against Spock’s. Spock found himself reciprocating the kiss unconsciously, both his fingers and mouth moving eagerly against Jim’s.
Kirk pulled away slightly. He nodded at the box in Spock’s arms, pressed between them. “Let’s get this stuff loaded up. The sooner I get you home the better.” Jim grinned, his breathing heavy. “I know the perfect way to christen your new home.”
Spock complied, feeling breathless. He took a second box in his arms and headed out the door. When he returned to the entranceway to grab another set of boxes, he froze. Jim had moved to lift the box in front of him, but instead his eyes were caught by Spock’s PADD. He lifted it. “Oh hey, is this the article you’ve been working on?”
Spock moved to stop him, reaching for the PADD. “It is not yet complete.” Jim was too quick, jumping away from Spock’s grasp, lifting the PADD away from him.
“Don’t be shy. I’m sure it’s already perfect even in draft form.” Kirk began scrolling through the text, shifting away from Spock’s frantic hands. As Spock feared, Jim’s facial expression began to drop the further he scrolled through the paper. With one last desperate attempt to remove the offending article, Spock ripped the PADD from Kirk’s grasp.
Jim stared up at him. “You’ve been writing about me. About us.”
“You offered to assist in my research early on in our acquaintance,” Spock replied. The excuse, although true, was feeble and he knew it would do little to alleviate Jim’s altered mood.
“You can’t think--” Jim lifted his hands in the air with a great heaving of air between his lips that Spock felt brush against his skin. “Are you kidding me?” Kirk turned away for a moment, and then back again, his eyes flushed wide. “Saying I would help didn’t mean you could use me for some experiment. God, Spock!” Spock could sense Kirk’s turbulent emotions seeping off him even though they were not connected by touch. It was the first time Spock had seen Jim truly angry.
“Jim,” Spock whispered. His stomach plummeted, as if he were falling from a great height. “It was not my intention to hurt you. I believe I misunderstood your intentions toward me, and, as you refused to free me from an, at the time, undesired relationship, it seemed logical to combine my research on human romance with my own experience.”
Jim laughed a harsh sound devoid of his usual humor. “Logical. You thought it’d be logical to pretend to be in love with me, so I‘d fall out of love with you? How is that logical?” Kirk’s feet moved, pacing back and forth across the hallway. Spock’s eyes followed Jim’s movements, each step making him cringe, a pain thrumming low down in his torso where his heart thumped wildly against his side. “What, did you think-that I’d get bored all of a sudden and dump you? You must think I’m a real asshole.”
“Early on in our acquaintance, I believed you were attempting to seduce me in order to gain information about the Kobayashi Maru test.” Spock moved to grip Jim’s arm, desperate to anchor himself against a sudden wave of fear submerging his reason. “Please, Jim. My assumptions were incorrect.”
“Fuck the Kobayashi Maru!” Kirk ripped his arm from Spock’s grasp, extending the distance between them by several feet. “I was crushing on you, Spock. I was infatuated with you. That’s why I kept asking you out-not so I could sleep my way through a damn sim test. Oh my god, and the whole time-I thought you actually felt the same.” Jim rubbed his hands roughly across his face. “I’m an idiot. So stupid.”
Spock forced himself to breathe deeply. His hands clenched and unclenched where they rested vacant against his sides. “Jim,” he breathed.
Kirk whirled around to face him. “Oh, don’t Jim me, Spock. Forget it, fine, I get it. I’m just some airhead hustler and you wanted to get me out of your hair. Desperate men do desperate things. Kinda funny you had to go to such extremes as moving in with me.” That awful laugh again, so unlike Kirk it was as if the sound were coming from a different man. “I’ll bet you a bank worth of credits you’d jump ship before I did though.”
“Jim, my feelings toward you-”
Kirk held up a hand. “Don’t bother, Spock. I know how you feel about petty human emotions. I should have known better.” He moved toward the door, brushing past Spock. The brief connection Jim’s shoulder made against Spock’s arm caused a sharp pang in his head, behind his eyes.
“Jim.” Spock followed him out the door.
“No, Spock.” Kirk was opening the door of the air car.
“Jim.” Spock grabbed Kirk’s hand, his skin aching to feel that consuming warmth again. “Allow me to explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Jim moved from Spock’s grasp and jumped into the car, shoving the keys into the ignition. “You’re just wasting your precious logical time.” He slammed the door shut and drove off. Spock remained standing on the sidewalk for about five minutes after Jim’s departure. This was wrong, everything had gone wrong.
*
Part 4