Summary: Is Spock sleeping with the Captain, or not?

Sleeping Around

Kirk/Spock by Farfalla; rated PG-13
blueberrysnail (at) yahoo dot com

Spock had just lifted the final satisfying spoonful of his carrot-and-celery ramen bowl towards his mouth when an unmistakable voice carried across the mess hall and attracted his attention.

"Mr. Spock? No, he wouldn't sleep with the captain," Lt. Kevin Thomas Riley was saying a little too loudly. ""He probably wouldn't sleep with any of the crew! It'd be too much fun."

"Spock has his own kind of fun," answered Mr. Chekov. "Vith equations. And computers."

"Captain Kirk is no computer," Riley pointed out. "Sure, they're friends and all, but what makes you think there's anything else going on?"

"It vas just something I heard," Chekov said.

"Well, don't believe everything you hear," Riley reminded him.

"Keptin Kirk is the only human Spock ever allows to touch him," Chekov pointed out.

"I'm not saying they're not best friends," said Riley. "I just can't see him, or any Vulcan, sleeping with any of us. They probably don't think it's logical--especially when there aren't any babies involved."

Chekov choked, and borscht flew across the table. "Babies! Can you imagine Meester Spock," he chuckled, gasping, "getting pregnant?"

Riley's face was frozen and white. "Chekov, turn around."

"Vhat--?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Riley, Mr. Chekov." Spock had appeared behind Chekov with a face of stone. "For your information, gentlemen, I am not sleeping with Captain Kirk, and I would appreciate an immediate cessation of all conversation pertaining to the subject in any public area of the ship, including and especially the mess hall. You may consider that an order."

He stalked off without waiting for their reactions. It produced the intended result.

"Shit," Riley giggled nervously.

Chekov looked like he wanted to dissolve into his borscht. He pushed the potatoes around lamely with his spoon. Some female nurses at another table who had overheard the incident were tittering to each other.

McCoy fell into step with the captain in the hallway as he made his way to the bridge. "Jim? Got a moment?"

"What's going on, Bones?" Jim turned towards him slightly.

McCoy checked the hallway and only spoke when he was satisfied that they were alone. "Nurse Chapel apparently heard from some of the other nurses that Spock said you two weren't together," he murmured. "I was just wonderin' if somethin' had happened."

"The nurses?" Kirk asked in surprise. "Why would Spock be talking to the nurses about our relationship?"

"He wasn't talking to them," McCoy explained. "He was dressing down Chekov and Riley. Or maybe it was Chekov and Sulu, or Riley and Sulu."

Kirk grinned. "See? It's just a rumor. Nobody really knows who said what."

"So you two are okay?"

"We're very happy," Kirk said with an expression of quiet peace.

"Glad to hear it. I just had to make sure--I checked the medical computers and you two haven't shared a bed any of the nights this week. So between that, and the rumors, I got to thinkin'. Happy to hear I was wrong."

"Vulcan couples don't customarily share sleeping arrangements. Don't worry--we have plenty of time alone together before he goes off to sleep," said Kirk. "But thanks for looking out for me." They entered the bridge.

Kirk mounted his throne looking as chipper as usual and thanked the yeoman for his afternoon coffee. But as he sipped it, a tinge of worry floated into his mind. What if Spock really had denied their relationship to some of the crew? Not that it was any of their business.

If there was even a ghost of a possibility that it were true--

Was Spock ashamed of him in some way?

Perhaps he was concerned that a relationship would make him appear more human to the crew, and subsequently less antiseptic and intimidating. Or maybe he was concerned that he would face anti-homosexual prejudice if the knowledge got out.

Kirk sipped his coffee and glanced over at Spock, who was working busily at the science station. He really was so beautiful, so brilliant... but so reserved. If something had been troubling him, Kirk had no doubt that Spock could keep it to himself for weeks without ever revealing it even to his closest companion.

Then the yeoman returned with a stack of things for him to sign off, and he put his personal life in a drawer for the rest of the afternoon.

Kirk and Spock ate dinner together in the mess hall and then walked back to Kirk's quarters together. Kirk hadn't brought up the topic that was worrying him, but it lurked under the surface of their entire dinner conversation.

Spock had not failed to notice it, but he waited until they were safely inside Kirk's cabin before saying anything. "I perceive a certain thoughtfulness on your part."

"Yes," Kirk admitted. He looked into Spock's eyes, and touched his hand. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm very proud to have you by my side."

"I am equally gratified by our situation."

Kirk's eyes grew warm. "Are you sure? You're not ashamed of... being in love? I mean, as a Vulcan."

Spock made a face as if to study himself briefly, then stated, "I would not have come to you until I had overcome that barrier."

"That's what I thought."

"Jim, why are you troubled?"

Kirk sighed. "It's probably just nothing.... just a rumor." He held up his hand and looked away, then back at Spock. "McCoy heard that you told some of the bridge crew we weren't dating."

"Those were not my exact words, Captain," Spock said matter-of-factly. "I specifically said we were not 'sleeping' together, which, I might remind you, we are not, and have not slept together."

Kirk's jaw dropped slightly before his entire face broke out into a supernova of a grin. "Why--you--dirty Vulcan!" He clapped both hands to Spock's shoulders.

"I am not dirty," Spock informed him loftily. His mouth may have been a straight line, but his eyebrows somehow conveyed to Jim that he was laughing inside, as much as a Vulcan could.

"Sneaky, then." Jim gave Spock's shoulder a squeeze. "Come on, the chessboard's already set up."

One chess match and an hour of lovemaking later, they lay in Jim's bed stroking each other's hair. Jim's mind wandered back to their earlier conversation. "You know, I never really thought about it, but now it seems strange to me that this.... act... is referred to as 'sleeping together'. Especially when we don't--sleep--together."

"Vulcans do not see the logic in providing the distraction of another being when rest is desired."

"Distraction, yes, but it can also be very comforting to have someone dear to you close by while you drift away."

"Would I be correct in surmising you are interested in having me sleep beside you?" Spock inquired.

"I'd be very happy if you gave it a try," Kirk invited softly, with his eyelashes. "Sleep with me, Spock!" He added this last bit for comic effect.

Spock considered the proposition carefully. He had never before shared a bed with anyone else, and all his life he had been taught that it was logical to seek solitude during periods of rest. But after making love with Jim, or even merely after playing chess, he did not wish to part with him for the evening. He realized this was not the first time he had entertained such ideas.

"I shall stay," Spock agreed. "I trust you will not keep me up all night, since the safety of the ship depends on our alertness."

"Of course." Jim hugged him tightly, then got up to go to the head. On his way back, he ordered off the lights.

It felt ~very good~ to slide under the covers and be greeted there with Spock's warm body.

"It is fortunate that we are preparing to go to sleep considerably earlier than usual," Spock observed. "It may take me some time to adjust to the novel experience."

Jim's fingers fumbled for Spock's in the dark. "What are you experiencing right now? I want to experience it along with you. Tell me about it."

"My heart rate is slightly elevated, which I attribute to my human half's nervousness," Spock commented, "and I am quite aware of my own body, which can be explained by my desire not to disturb you with unnecessary movement."

"That's normal," said Jim. "I remember being fifteen years old and sharing a bed with a boy from my neighborhood. He was my friend and my mother said he could sleep over. It wasn't that I was in love with him--it was just the idea of having a boy my age there in bed with me that made me so nervous and excited. It took me hours to fall asleep, even though he was straight and we didn't do anything but talk or sleep."

"The personal boundaries involved must have been more extensive than they are for you now," Spock pointed out. "You did not want to impose on your heterosexual friend, but you and I need have no such inhibitions. However, I am unfamiliar with the amount of body contact that is appropriate for this activity. If you were to 'fall asleep in my arms', as the saying goes, I would be forced to concentrate a good deal on controlling my body's excited reaction in order to allow myself to rest."

Jim chuckled. "Don't worry. If I fell asleep in your arms, I'd wake up sizzling in my own sweat." He squeezed Spock's hand. "Is holding hands too much contact for you?"

"No; I am accustomed to calming myself quickly at that particular touch, since it is one of the types of touching that is publicly acceptable."

"We can also touch feet, or thighs," Jim suggested.

"Perhaps," said Spock in a skeptical tone.

"We could always work up to it, of course. But the point is, you don't have to avoid my body. I won't roll over on top of you."

"How do couples sleeping together know when it is appropriate to stop conversation and begin rest?"

"It always seemed to happen naturally for me," Jim mused. "Except with Janice Lester. She'd whack me with her foot and tell me to shut up, and that was that."

"You have my sincere promise that I will not intentionally kick you," said Spock. "However, I would be more comfortable if I were to retain the freedom to stop speaking at a specific moment instead of just letting it 'happen naturally'. Since I am a Vulcan, I can stay awake for weeks at a time, but it is not a good idea to abuse the technique simply for the sake of nocturnal conversation."

"You know--for someone who's afraid we'll stay up all night talking," Jim teased, "you're already far ahead of me."

"I believe it is time for sleep."

Jim yawned. "Good night, Spock."

"Good night, Jim."

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"If those crewmembers who were hassling you find out you slept here tonight, they'll think they set us up!"

"Go to sleep, Jim." Spock squeezed his hand.

He had expected the steady rise and fall of Jim's breathing, and later, snoring, to disturb his rest, or that the sensation of the other man's heartbeat always so close by would distract him from his nightly peace. But he discovered that the comfort and reassurance of this shared slumber soothed him and made the moments before his repose sweeter than they had ever been. He would soon prefer this type of sleep to any other.

And the next morning, when McCoy logged on to his medical computer, he noted with amusement that Spock had shared Kirk's cabin the night before. Proud of his handiwork, the doctor strutted like a rooster for the better part of the day.


Farfalla's K/S happyplace