The Perfect Man
SPOCK
Spock had never quite understood the appeal of the romantic male leads that were portrayed in the earth movies his mother would occasionally watch, mainly after times when his father had been particularly logical. Spock would sit with his mother and watch the movies with her because he believed she drew emotional comfort from those moments. His mother had emotional needs it was logical to fulfill, even if he did not have those needs.
Spock would sit on the couch, his mother curled up next to him. He would try to decipher the romantic motives of a distant alien culture through the awkward first meetings, the illogical and often insipid conversation, the ridiculous misunderstandings that could have been easily avoided had the barest hint of logic applied, and finally the confession of feelings that seemed to solve everything.
Spock did not want chance encounters and what seemed to be a flimsy relationship. He wanted a fulfilling bond with one who could fulfill the roles of both friend and lover. He wanted someone who he could trust implicitly. Someone with which silly misunderstandings would not lead to a great rift.
That he found that bond with a human boy with eyes a blue the likes of which could never be found on Vulcan and no emotional control whatsoever, was a complete surprise to Spock. Even if it wasn’t to his mother who had a better understanding of romantic connections than her dubious taste in film would suggest.
Spock and Jim discovered their irrefutable connection at Christopher Pike’s house the summer Spock’s mother was needed for consultation at the Academy in San Francisco. Jim had been sent there either for a summer program in xenobiology or to keep him from landing himself in jail while his mother was off planet. The true motive was unclear to Spock.
For a time it was also unclear to Spock if the boy so reckless with his emotions and easy in his flirtations felt the connection as deeply as Spock. But that was cleared up when his control was finally broken by a particularly lewd comment from Jim, full of arousing graphic imagery. Spock’s restraint had snapped and he had grabbed Jim, kissing him hard. Jim had returned Spock’s kisses hungrily, fisting his hands in the fabric of Spock’s shirt. Spock had been loath to pull back, but he had needed for Jim to understand.
“Jim,” he had said, breathing hard. “If you expect this to go like one of your typical conquests, we need to end this now before I become too…emotionally invested. If we keep going, I need to know this will be permanent.”
“I figured Vulcans didn’t really do casual,” Jim said with a grin that did not assure Spock that he was treating this seriously enough.
“No we don’t,” said Spock. He had prepared to tear himself away from Jim.
“But that’s fine because there’s nothing casual about what I want from you.”
The completed, loved, and needed feeling that burned through Spock when Jim uttered those words had kept him from faltering in his path when explaining to his parents and then the Vulcan High Council why he needed a bond with such a young, but of legal age for marriage, human. That feeling was why he enrolled in Starfleet and stayed on as a teacher after his graduation. He refused to leave Jim for the stars, as all who had loved Jim before Spock had done. They were bonded and living a simple life at the academy. Spock wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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“T’hy’la,” Spock murmured into the rounded ear, gently rubbing the bare shoulder of the man sprawled across the tangled blue sheets of their bed. “You will have to rush your morning routine if you do not rise in the coming two minutes.”
Though he did not open his eyes Jim let out a low groan, rolled over, and curled himself around Spock’s legs. His head rested on Spock’s lap, his hair bright against the charcoal of Spock's instructor’s uniform.
Spock himself had to be teaching a class in eleven minutes, but he cherished his time with Jim even though he would always feel him in the back of his mind. He indulged himself, carding his fingers through the soft bristle of Jim’s short hair. With the thumb of his other hand he stroked the curve of Jim’s cheek, watching the open and beautiful face struggle against the pull of sleep. Finally blue eyes blinked up at him. The look that Jim would give him when he first opened his eyes for the day, giving and full of so much pure love, it was illogical but Spock could never bring himself to leave before seeing it.
Jim stretched languidly, tangling the sheets further. “Don’t think I can meet you for lunch this semester. I’m mentoring a first year in the command track. I’ll miss our lunch chess games.”
“As will I, Jim.” Spock leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Jim’s forehead. He got up gently disentangling himself from the sheets Jim had managed to entrap him in. Spock collected his things and looked back at his bondmate regarding him forlornly from the bed. “Have a pleasant day. I will see you at dinner. It is not an extensive period of time to be parted from one another.”
“I know, Spock,” said Jim getting off the bed and walking over to Spock bringing the sheets with him. “And it’s great that we can both be at the Academy, but I’m selfish and I just want to spend every moment with you.”
“And I with you,” said Spock drawing Jim into his arms before pressing him into the wall next to the door and kissing him long and deep. Jim pulled back first, causing Spock to make a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. Jim laughed, and Spock could feel the vibrations throughout his body.
“Sorry, professor, but you’re going to be late if we don’t stop now.”
Spock simply set down his class materials and pulled Jim to the floor in a tangle of limbs and sheets.
NYOTA UHURA
Uhura usually hated teachers who arrived late to class. If they couldn’t be bothered to take the class seriously then why should she? But she made an exception for the man-Vulcan who strode into the classroom with a quiet dignity. He instantly commanded the attention of every cadet in the class without speaking a word.
She’d always imagined falling for an intelligent, mature, man that she would meet in one of her classes. She had always held a bit of scorn for the girls and boys who had affairs with teachers. But it wasn’t surprising that she was interested in an older man as she craved maturity and stability in a romantic partnership. Something she was certain Professor Spock could give her. Plus it certainly didn’t hurt that he was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen with his graceful movements, and handsome features.
Trying to remember the last time she’d though someone was that attractive, she inwardly winced when her thoughts turned to James Kirk. Sure the boy was beautiful but she was quite certain he could never provide anyone with a fulfilling relationship. She tuned back into Professor Spock’s introductory speech just in time to hear him list his office hours, which she copied down. Yes, it had certainly been worth it to sign up for Introduction to Vulcan.
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Uhura made sure to participate frequently in class and had even lingered after, time which cut into Spock’s lunch (which had to mean something right?), discussing the history of different Vulcan words. He didn’t brush her off like other students and those dark brown eyes always held warmth when speaking to her. He obviously respected her intelligence and clearly encouraged her in class. After one of those after class discussions he called something she said fascinating and he did the ‘smile with your eyes’ thing that supermodels spend years trying to perfect.
That small moment had sent waves of giddy happiness through her that she tried to suppress telling herself that she was a mature confident adult woman, not a school girl with a crush. But there she was lying on her bed butterflies in her stomach looking at her PADD trying to decide if she should or shouldn’t schedule a meeting/tutoring session with Spock that they both would know she didn’t need.
Gaila walked in, took one look at Uhura on her face slightly flushed and smiling helplessly, and said, “Oh, good, you’ve finally found a boy worthy of your standards.”
“He isn’t a boy. And yes, despite what you think, it is possible to find someone who measures up to certain standards.”
“Boy, cadet, very similar. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have an idea of what you want. Just sometimes you don’t know what you really need until you find it.”
“Like spontaneous sex on the quad with a stranger?”
“You keep bringing that up. I think that might be what you need.”
Uhura pulled a face at her and Gaila laughed at her more than was necessary. Gaila was still getting used to human behaviors and didn’t quite understand that one yet.
“And he’s not a cadet,” Uhura added. She turned her attentions back to her half-composed message. Trying desperately to put her linguistic skill to good use so as not to make her message sound euphemistic in any way. It wasn’t quite working out, but it wasn’t her fault that the words professor, tutoring, and one-on-one study session were some of the most popular tags for porn.
“You’re dating a professor?” Gaila bounced onto the bed next to her.
“We’re not dating…yet. I’m just interested in him. I’m writing a message to him right now to schedule a tutoring session I don’t need.”
“Ooo, how naughty of you. That’s a common human euphemism for intercourse, correct?”
Uhura wrinkled her nose at her, earning another giggle. “I don’t know how you get laid so much, calling it intercourse.”
“It’s the pheromones,” Gaila deadpanned. “So what’s his name? Anyone I know? Is he sexy?”
“Incredibly sexy. I don’t know…Do you know Professor Spock?”
Oh,” said Gaila, her eyes widened in appreciation, “he is sexy.” She frowned. “I’m pretty sure he’s married though.”
“Yeah, most Vulcans are bonded at a young age. It’s kind of like an arranged marriage fiancée deal. It can be broken off if either party finds someone else who will provide them a more fulfilling partnership. I researched as much as I could find on Vulcans. If it were serious, I’m sure he’d have his bondmate with him at the academy. But since he’s the only Vulcan here, I’m pretty sure he’s fair game.”
Gaila twirled her red curls around her fingers, considering Uhura seriously. “I don’t know. From what I heard, it sounded like something serious. I don’t think you should do it.”
“Since when do you advise against going for someone.”
“I don’t mess around with love,” she ssaidays.
“Neither do I.” Uhura pressed the send button.
Gaila flopped back on the bed, curls fanning out around her head. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
As Uhura often followed the opposite of most of Gaila’s advice this warning did not bother her.
What did bother her is that Gaila continued to give her that serious look when she got a message back from Spock confirming their appointment. She’d never seen Gaila’s serious curl pulling demeanor before. She wished that the Orion didn’t have to reveal this new facet of her personality right when Uhura is so giddy with happiness that she was seriously considering dancing around the room.
SPOCK
When Spock walks into his office, he unexpectedly treads on some type of clothing. He looks down to find a red cadet jacket lying crumpled on the floor. Spock investigates further and finds the owner of the jacket behind his desk lying on his stomach, head pillowed on his undershirt.
With his back clearly displayed, wearing nothing but his red pants and regulation boots, Jim’s tattoo is displayed quite plainly. Spock is fairly certain Jim had lain like this on purpose, knowing full well what this particular view does to Spock. He crouched down next to Jim and traced the Vulcan script between his shoulder blades.
Wedding rings weren’t traditional on Vulcan and jewelry wasn’t allowed in Starfleet, but Jim had wanted some tangible physical representation of their bond. He had gotten the tattoo to fulfill that need. Spock had found the need for the expression of their bond in this manner illogical, because most times the tattoo was as visible to the outside world as their bond. But nonetheless Spock still felt a jolt of pleasure every time he saw this permanent design marking Jim as his.
Soon Jim was stirring awake and shifting comfortably under his touch. Spock leaned down and pressed soft kisses along Jim’s spine. When Jim gave a small moan of contentment, Spock had to force down his arousal, reminding himself that they did not have time for this.
“You should go Jim,” Spock told him, gently turning him over and guiding him into a sitting position.
Jim scrubbed his hands over his face. “Why? You just got here.”
Jim had not been getting adequate sleep with his class load and extracurricular activities and Spock just wanted to pull the human into his arms, stroke his hair, and murmur words of endearment into the soft curves of his ear until he fell asleep. Spock wanted to protect Jim from all the stresses of the world and Jim wanted to meet all those stresses head on. All Spock could do was be by his side through it all and it would have to be enough.
“I am sorry Jim. I have an appointment with a cadet.”
“I guess you have to make sure your students don’t fail.”
“On the contrary she is at the top of the class. She is very bright and I find our conversations about Vulcan comforting.”
“Poor baby, are you homesick?” Jim asked pulling him into his arms, moving his hands in soothing patterns over Spock’s back.
“Never when I am with you, Jim.” Spock got a sloppy emotion laden kisses in return.
Then too soon, there was a knock at the door and they scrambled to dress Jim. The process was somewhat impeded by Spock running his fingers in Vulcan kisses over Jim’s skin as it was covered back up.
NYOTA UHURA
When she knocked on Professor Spock’s door, there was a long moment when her stomach clenched with the fear that he had stood her up or forgotten. And Spock didn’t forget, so it had to be stood up. Right when she about to turn away and go to her room to study irregular Andorian verbs in defeat; the door opened.
It was Jim Kirk of all people, which was odd on several counts: she hadn’t heard voices, Spock wasn’t teaching any courses on the command track this semester, and she highly doubted that James “Not Only Farm Animals” Kirk secretly cultivated a scholarly interest in the language and culture of Vulcan.
“Uhura,” Kirk drawled running his gaze in slow appreciation over her. “Nice boots.”
“They’re a standard part of the uniform.”
“Yeah, but you’re one of the lucky few who’d look great in them and nothing else. Seriously, what kind of workout do you do to get your legs to look that toned? And what do I have to do to get you to consider letting me be a part of that regimen?”
Uhura should have known that being in front of a professor wouldn’t stop Kirk from hitting on her. Uhura could see Spock over Kirk’s shoulder watching the exchange with an amused expression that was conveying the most emotion she’d ever seen on his face.
“No, Kirk, you may not. Don’t you have a med student that bends you over the examination table? Why don’t you run off and find him?”
“That’s just gossip. Bones and I are just friends. Though now that you mention it, I think I will find him, see how many blood vessels he can burst when he hears that rumor.” Kirk gave her the smile that was rumored to get half the campus in bed with him and Uhura grimaced back at him not liking that his inane banter was cutting into her time with Professor Spock.
“Cadet Kirk,” Spock says sharply as Kirk began to walk away. “Please return during your dinner hour.”
Kirk looks back with wide eyes. “Really?”
Uhura rolls her eyes inwardly; Kirk would question the instructors in a militaristic institution.
“Really,” Spock says back to him with a raised eyebrow.
And the smile that Kirk shoots back is so unexpected and wide. His stunning eyes crinkling up, and his whole face is lit up with the way he’s positively beaming that Uhura really can’t blame half the campus for overlooking Kirk’s slutty hick personality just to get close to that beauty for one night.
“Are you friends with Cadet Kirk?” Professor Spock asks her as he guides her inside his office.
“Friends with Kirk? No, not exactly. I know he must be very intelligent to be doing so well in the class he takes. But every time we speak the conversation is so banal, I can’t imagine putting up with that regularly, hours at a time. So, mostly he just hits on me. Unsuccessfully.”
Spock’s features are arranged in the same non-expression he always wears, but even as their conversation progresses Uhura can’t shake the feeling that something in his face is conveying an expression similar to one he would wear were she to kick his favorite puppy.
SPOCK
Spock is grading exams for his Introduction to Vulcan course. When he gets to Cadet Uhura’s paper he looks up from his desk to consider his bondmate sprawled on the carpeted floor PADDs and books flung around him in a seemingly haphazard manner. If he didn’t have a direct link to Jim’s mind Spock would never guess that he was actually engaged in serious studying.
Jim can feel the weight of Spock’s gaze and turns around to meet his gaze with a questioning look.
Rather than put it into words Spock sends what he’s feeling through their bond. During weekly meetings he and Uhura have developed a tentative friendship but she continues to regard Jim with distaste, even though it borders on being a fond distaste. Spock wants everyone to see Jim’s true self all of the time, but he knows that isn’t how Jim is built. So he wonders that now that Spock and Uhura are friends if Jim will stop pushing her away so actively.
“She’s too smart,” Jim says out loud, “and at this point she already thinks she knows who I am. I’d hate to disappoint her.”
“Jim,” says Spock.
“Just, can we not do this? I know this isn’t about Uhura, not really. I know you want the best for me and are worried that it won’t happen if people think I’m just a reckless playboy with a famous last name. I flirt every other sentence and let people make their assumptions, and sometimes it hurts. But I can’t be open, it’s just not me, I can’t.”
“Jim,” said Spock getting up to join him on the floor. He settled next to Jim and stroked his hand down his back in long soothing strokes. “I know you and I don’t need for you to change. But I confess to being frustrated by the negative things I hear about you.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just every time people have found out what really matters to me, what makes me tick, it’s ended badly.”
“I know everything about you, and unless you have somehow managed to conceal from me an extremely powerful telepathic ability, you do not consider current circumstances as ‘bad.’”
“Well, yeah,” says Jim flopping sideways to look up at Spock. “But you don’t count, you’re part of me.”
It’s said so simply, Jim’s expression is so honest and open, that Spock forgets to breath for a moment, wondering, not for the first time, what he ever did to deserve such a gift in his life.
Spock cups the back of Jim’s neck and leans down to softly press his lips against Jim’s forehead. Jim sighs softly and Spock can feel the tension from their conversation bleed out of him.
“Even though you may not be able to open yourself to many people easily I am thankful you have found Gaila and Leonard McCoy. Humans are social creatures and need friendships to survive.”
“Yeah, they understand. They both have pasts, they’ve both been hurt deeply, we may never talk about it. But we know and that makes it easier.”
Spock shoved some of Jim’s schoolwork aside to spoon against him on the floor. He wrapped his arms around Jim’s front to tangle their hands together. Spock allowed himself to relax and his eyes shut as he breathed in tandem with Jim letting the familiar scent of his bondmate’s skin and his comforting weight against him fill his sense.
“Plus,” said Jim suddenly. “I don’t think Uhura would appreciate it if I suddenly became open with her.”
Spock couldn’t be bothered to speak and let the question flutter at the back of Jim’s mind.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious she’s got a thing for you. I’m afraid she’s going to stomp me with those boots if she finds out.”
“I will not let her,” Spock promises tightening his arms around Jim, “no one may stomp on you, but me.”
“Hey, I was being serious.”
“I find the concept illogical.”
“That she would stomp on me?”
“No, given her attitude towards you, I believe that the notion has merit. Most students have somehow correctly surmised that I am married despite the fact that we do not broadcast it in order to avoid untoward speculation and discrimination. Plus, Cadet Uhura is straightforward and honest. I find it illogical that she would stay silent if she had feelings for me.”
“Maybe she is suffering from the misconception that Vulcans find matters of the heart illogical and shrink from emotional displays. I know that’s what I thought until I ended up with a lapful of horny, squirming, Vulcan on Christopher Pike’s kitchen floor.”
“It is only logical to claim what you cannot live without,” Spock stated primly, but he knew that Jim could feel that he was replaying that scene in his head and had at the time thought he was being illogical. He had thought that he could never really have the gorgeous enigma of a boy who had understood Spock on a level that no one else could.
Jim stood up taking Spock with him to the bed. Spock looked at their abandoned schoolwork spread across the floor and table and decided it would be worth it to stay up the extra hours to have Jim panting and writhing beneath him, their minds linked as they experienced each others pleasure.
NYOTA UHURA
Uhura used to baby-sit regularly and is able to make an excellent stern/angry face that can intimidate any kid to do what she wants and it does not fail her now. Kirk scrambles out from under Gaila’s bed grabs his clothes and rushes to the door without even pausing to put them on-good less time for him to hit on her.
As he moves to the door she catches sight of a tattoo inked in black stretching out between his shoulder blades. At first she thinks it’s a word in ancient Romulan like fire or war. Those have become inexplicably popular for drunken young men to get. But then she realizes that the ancient script curling between his shoulder blades is in ancient Vulcan. Before she can entirely make out what it means (though the curling lines on the outermost part suggest forever or eternity, but it seems more complex than just that) Kirk is turning back around to face her, and her view of the tattoo is suddenly replaced with that of a love bite on his collar bone.
And she’s suddenly just fed up with Kirk’s cavalier attitude. Frustrated that he thinks he can hit on her and sleep with her roommate. He actually can get anyone he wants whenever he wants. Whereas being serious and dedicated won’t get her want she wants for a long-ass time because of stupid Vulcan propriety. And she’s not proud, but she just needs to feel better than someone else.
“Jesus, Kirk, do you even know how to keep it in your pants? You don’t know what it’s like to see someone and just know that they’re right for you, to want them beyond just one night, do you? What, did your parents not give you enough affection as a child that you need to look for it stranger’s beds?”
Right when the words leave her mouth and she sees Kirk’s expression shut down, she remembers who he is and the widely public rumors surrounding his childhood.
“Kirk,” she begins contrition filling her voice, but he’s closed the door in her face and he’s gone.
And why does it feel like she’s lost a friend?
Uhura turns back to regard Gaila who is looking as angry and intimidating as it is possible to do spread out on a bed wearing nothing but a set of matching lacy underwear.
“Fuck. I need to apologize don’t I?”
Gaila nods and Uhura starts composing a message still in her panties. She tries to put as much apology and self-deprecation in it as she can manage. Apologizing for taking their love-hate relationship too far.
“So what was up with the naked Kirk? I thought you said you weren’t sleeping with him.”
“I’m not actually. I accidentally spilled a chemical I had for one of my engineering labs all over us. It started to itch, so we took our clothes off. Right when he went under the bed looking for the stuff that counteracts it, you came in and started stripping.”
“Huh,” she says.
The next few days are tense as hell. Uhura isn’t sure when bantering with Kirk had become a daily thing and she finds herself trying to win back the friendship of someone she had shown open scorn for.
She begins eating meals with him, opening with an apology every time. She offers to help him with his language courses and suddenly they’re actually getting along; like really getting along. And he’s smart and funny. And she’s not sure how she, with her expert skills in nonverbal communication, had missed that the cocky attitude was mostly a front.
But she’s still sure he’s a slut because sometimes his uniform will ride up and she’ll see bruises decorating his hips or he’ll stretch his arms and a love bite will peak out over his collar.
Then one day, when she and Kirk are laughing so hard tears are coming out because when he’s attempting to teach her the politics to diplomacy with condiment bottles and the kind of voices you use for narrating a kids story, she realizes that her definition of the perfect man has shifted somewhat. Become broader.
Uhura still visits Spock weekly, enjoys their conversation immensely, and still has hope that it’ll lead somewhere. But then one day Spock’s office is locked and there’s no sign of him. She sits there for nearly an hour getting sympathetic looks from the passing cadets. Finally she pulls herself off the floor. And she doesn’t know why, but she suddenly feels compelled to look for Spock at his apartment. She has no plan, except maybe to check if he’s all right because he never misses anything for any reason. He seems like the kind of person who would comm if they couldn’t make it.
Uhura trudges off towards the teachers' apartments into the dying sunset.
Uhura knocks several times on the apartment door, but there is no response. But then she hears some noise from within, the low murmur of voices. The door isn’t locked, so she enters cautiously. Spock’s apartment is nicely furnished and it’s so obviously not a dorm room that she suddenly feels young and out of place in her cadet reds.
She peers around but doesn’t see anyone. She's about to leave when she realizes there’s one room she hasn’t checked. She walks to the back of the apartment. The door of the bedroom is wide open and she stops dead.
It takes her brain a moment to process what she’s seeing. Sex. It’s sex. Professor Spock, her Professor Spock, is having sex. With a man. All she can see of the other person are the legs spread wide, wrapped around Spock's back. But those are definitely man legs.
How can this be happening? She had thought they were making headway, that soon they would be meeting outside of the Academy. But here is Professor Spock, naked, thrusting into a man pinned on his back beneath him. And here is Uhura outside of the bedroom not a part of the equation. They must be close to finishing because Spock’s thrusts are almost erratic, their panting breaths and moans fill the air, and the man beneath him is digging his fingernail into his back as though holding on for dear life.
No, this can’t be happening. She was so sure Spock was interested in her. Could this be the husband Gaila was talking about? No, they’d become friends; he would’ve surely mentioned something like that. But if this is just a fling then why isn’t that her in there?
She is so stunned to find her seemingly repressed Vulcan professor having sex with such a lack of emotional control that she doesn’t consider the identity of the man moaning like a whore beneath him until Spock pants out, “Jim, Jim,” right before he reaches his climax.
And Jim is turning his head to the side. And it’s Jim Kirk's eyes clenched shut, mouth open wide around his moans, and he’s coming without his cock being touched. And Uhura is impressed by that and also disgusted with him for sleeping with Spock. He’s probably just doing it so he can check off on some invisible list that he’s slept with a Vulcan.
Then Uhura’s overworked mind gasps and stutters some more as Spock’s hand slips through the mess of cum on Jim’s stomach as he pulls out and Jim brings Spock's hand up to his mouth and licks his own cum off it. Spock groans at the sight. It’s fantastically dirty, and god Kirk’s slutty.
Uhura jerks herself away not wanting to see if they were going to try to cuddle in that mess of cum or whatever men did after they had random sex together. Uhura made it as far as the front room before she had to stop to breathe. And she knows she needed to get out like yesterday, because if they catch her-oh god. But there’s too many feelings swirling around and she can’t think straight let alone walk. And she hears the sound of the shower being turned on, water plinking against tile. And she lets herself relax, gather her thoughts, because there’s just so many, she can’t move. The image of Spock’s back arching as he came inside Kirk is burned into her brain.
Her face is hot, she’s shaking slightly from the surprise of it all, and she should have never apologized to Kirk that time. He’s nothing but a slut. Sleeping with a professor. Why did she let him in, it’s all her fault, it’s not like he ever pretended to be anything else. Holy shit, she hears footsteps.
“Uhura?” Kirk’s voice comes from behind her. Her body doesn’t know whether to jump from being startled or barf and she makes an odd lurch in turning towards Kirk, her stomach rolling. The only things covering him are a pair of low-slung boxers and bite marks. He smells like sex and looks incredibly well fucked.
And Uhura is equal parts heartbroken and aroused. Caught between wanting to give into deep body wracking tears and jumping Kirk’s bones she has no idea what her expression looks like at all. But Kirk sort of looks like he’s trying to soothe a rabid dog, patience as well as the inevitability that he’s going to get bitten is written all over his face.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, shifting, not sure what to do.
She just needed him to stop looking at her like that with confusion and concern, needs him to understand what he did, all that he ruined, needs him to know she’s not unjustified, make him see.
“What the fuck, Kirk?”
He shifts awkwardly. “You see any of that?” He gestures towards the bedroom.
She blushes and scrubs her hand across her face awkwardly. Kirk blushes and pushes his hand through his hair awkwardly. Before Uhura can initiate the next phase in the awkward dance, Kirk speaks.
“I meant to tell you, but there was never a good time.”
“I mean since there’s not really a standard ‘tell your friend that you plan on fucking this guy you know she likes since she only talks about him all the time’ time. Anytime would’ve really been good.”
“Uhura, it’s not what it seems-”
“You mean you’re not such a cockslut that you can’t even keep in it your pants when you’re around someone your friend is genuinely interested in? But I doubt it, so just fucking save your excuses for someone who might actually fall for them. God, Kirk, I thought we were friends.”
“Me, too,” he says his eyes tightening. And, no, he isn’t the one that gets to be angry about this.
“I was exactly right before wasn’t I?” Kirk’s mouth works silently no words coming out. “I was. You don’t know what it’s like to see someone and just know that they’re right for you, to want them beyond just one night. You don’t know what good qualities in a significant other is besides a smoking hot body. So you just had to go and take someone who someone else was interested in. That’s just pathetic Kirk. You need help, you really do. I feel bad for everyone else who had the dubious honor of your friendship. In fact you should just leave now before Spock figures out how much of a fuck up you are.”
“Cadet Uhura,” Spock voice comes from behind her and it is icy. “I thought you had better manners than to than order someone from their own home, clearly I was wrong.”
She didn’t order Spock to leave, she told Kirk to go. It’s Uhura’s turn to have her mouth work silently, her words stolen from her.
Spock walks over to stand next to Kirk and stares her down. He manages to look terrifying in a pink bathrobe and fluffy slippers of all things.
“This is his home?” she manages.
Spock wraps an arm around Kirk pulling him flush against him, speaking into his sex mussed hair. “I am sorry for suggesting you open up to her, clearly you had better instincts on this front.”
“Told you she would stomp on me,” Kirk muttered against the pink fluff of the robe.
Spock turns his gaze back to Uhura. “You will apologize to my bondmate for all the terrible things you said, and then you will leave”
“Bondmates? With Kirk?” She asks disbelief plain in her voice, earning a another terrifying look from Spock. And god she feels so dumb. The signs were right in front of her the whole time.
“I justified our bond before the Vulcan High Council. I need not need to justify it to you.”
She deserves that, but that doesn’t stop it from stinging. And dammit Kirk really was the nice guy who studied with her, that was his effortless self. Well, the flirting seemed pretty effortless too, but it was just a front. So he did have problems, just not the ones she thought.
When she’d seen them fucking, she thought it was such a random pairing, but now she can see how they match up. They fit so well together, both magnetically interesting men hiding behind a public persona. And she feels like a piñata at the end of a kid’s party, beat up and scattered.
And she just feels so heavy with sadness and guilt. She takes a step towards Spock and Kirk, hands out. Spock pulls Kirk to him tighter. “I'm sorry. Just so sorry. Kirk...I, well, I was just so thrown off by what I saw and I had no idea. I should’ve but I didn’t. But you guys really need to tell people.” Then she’s made it to the door without crying.
Before the door shuts behind her, she can hear Kirk’s voice weary and sad. “Spock, why does my birthday always suck?” And she’s crying hard for herself and for Kirk and Spock, the friendships that were ruined, this fucked up situation she created for herself in her quest for the perfect man. And she needs to reevaluate her standards so she doesn’t fall for any more happily married gay men.
JAMES KIRK
Jim had known from the first time he’d seen the skinny Vulcan walk into Chris Pike’s house. Spock was all long limbs, effortless grace, and a way of speaking that was dry wit and sharp humor, and intelligence wrapped up in the illusion of pure emotionless logic that wavered the more Jim was around him. He could tell from the beginning that he could break down Spock’s controls just as easily as Spock broke down his. Which was great because Jim wanted to have long conversations with him about nothing, wanted to press his thumb along the up-swept curve of his eyebrow.
They fell fast. Just a month into knowing each other Jim knew that Spock was it. He was only seventeen, but he knew that his life wouldn’t possibly be complete without Spock. When he’d finally told his mom that she had told him he was only being dramatic. But when the Vulcan High Council had told her the same thing she’d taken it seriously. She’d been surprised but pleased that Jim’s teenage marriage was due to a rare and special mental bond rather than an unplanned pregnancy.
There is nothing wrong with the way he chooses to live. Yeah, he should’ve told Uhura. But really he’s never gone home with anyone so it’s her own fault she thought he was a slut.
He’s lying in bed, wrapped up in Spock who is still floating love, affection, and reassurance down their bond hours after Uhura’s left. But Jim’s not complaining. Spock strokes his fingers through Jim’s hair, which is his most favorite thing ever. He snuggles more against the warm body, his arms holding Spock tight. Spock’s other hand traces the lines of the ancient script on his back that proclaims him a bondmate, one half of a soul.
And if anyone knows what it’s like to see someone and just know you belong with them for the rest of your life, it's Jim.