The Conclusion of our Clueless Vulcan
Spock had barely been in his quarter but a few minutes when someone buzzed for access. Spock couldn’t have said why, but he suspected it was Jim.
“Hi Spock. Got a moment?”
Spock found himself dreading whatever Jim would say. But he could hardly deny his captain. “Yes, of course.”
Jim nodded. He looked uncomfortable and his gaze landed everywhere except on Spock. “Listen, I owe you an apology.”
Of all the things Spock had expected the captain to say, that hadn’t been one of them. He was at a loss to respond or even know if he ought to, so he waited for Jim to continue.
“I’ve been…behaving inappropriately. Giving you mixed signals. And I’m aware of it, but I haven’t been able to reconcile thoughts in my head until now. None of this is your fault, Spock. It’s all on me.”
When he paused for a long time, Spock felt prodded to respond in some way.
Jim shook his head. He’d wrapped his arms around himself in body language Spock recognized as defensive.
“I’ve had these feelings that I struggled with. I’ve found myself interested in you in ways far beyond friendship or camaraderie. And for much of that time, you’d be with Uhura and so I had forced myself to dismiss all of it. When you two broke up, I started to hope…” He shook his head again and turned entirely away from Spock. “I hoped that maybe, there might, someday, be some kind of reciprocation on your end. I convinced myself you’d been flirting with me. Vulcan flirting, but still. And that had me thinking that I’d been right to think there was a chance for us.”
He paused again, seeming to shrink unto himself and Spock reached toward him even as Jim spoke.
“But now I know I was kidding myself and all you’ll ever feel for me is friendship and that camaraderie. And finding that out…well…it hurt for a while.”
Spock blinked. “When did I…?”
“I heard you in the corridor with Uhura one night. I think my mom once told me that if you eavesdrop you’re bound to hear something you wished you hadn’t and she sure was right about that.”
“I know I had no right to feel hurt. You didn’t owe me your affections or anything. But I took it badly. I drank myself into a stupor with Bones that night. And after, in order to protect both of us, or I thought so anyway, I pulled back from you even as a friend. That was wrong and I can see it negatively affected not only our working relationship but that of the crew.” Jim inhaled and exhaled. “So, basically, I’m sorry. I’ve made a big effort to get past it all and I think I have, so, from now on—”
Jim turned around so fast to stare at Spock he almost lost his balance. His arms had dropped down from being crossed in front of his chest.
“What if I do not desire you to get past it?”
Spock let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, the likes of which were unheard from him, he knew, and very human, but at the moment he didn’t care. He was not good with words. Not emotional ones anyway. And if he’d needed proof, the fact that he had nearly destroyed what would absolutely matter to him most going forward, with carelessly spoken words he knew not to be true when he said it, should tell him that words were not needed just then.
Instead he took the few steps left to reach Jim and took hold of Jim’s arms, gently in his grasp. Those blue blue eyes widened as Spock leaned in and kissed him.
At first Jim’s lips didn’t move, didn’t accept the kiss Spock gave him and Spock had a momentary regret, fearing he’d gotten this all wrong after all despite Jim’s words.
But then, as Spock was about to pull away, he heard the barest gasp of breath from his captain just as his stiff, unyielding lips softened under his, opened for Spock, and allowed Spock to conquer fully. Jim’s hands fisted in Spock’s uniform shirt as he sagged against him, accepting the intrusion of Spock’s tongue eagerly.
Spock wasn’t sure how long they kissed. It felt like seconds, too short, but might have been years for all that he was aware of anything but Jim.
And there would be things, surely, that they would need to talk about, together, their past, their present, and definitely their future, but for now their lips, their arms wrapped around each other as Spock moved them toward his bed, their very bodies, that was all the conversation they needed now.
As he flung Jim onto the bed, his captain bouncing slightly upon impact, Spock flung himself onto Jim, his lips seeking purchase against Jim’s, his mouth wanting to return to the ultimate purpose of claiming this human as his…forever.
But Jim, predictably, had to have more than mere action. He paused to seek out Spock’s gaze, a question in his eyes.
He nodded. “I do not have the words.”
Those sensuous lips, so addicting, curved into the slightest of smiles that somehow seemed more genuine than any smile he had yet given to Spock. There was a light within the blue eyes Spock had not seen.
“I do,” said Jim, softly. “I love you.”
Three standard words that had seemed trite and meaningless before. So many said them without ever meaning it.
Yet Spock felt them all the way to his Katra and beyond. Perhaps he had the words after all.
“And I love you.”