Work Text:
Spock huddled deeper into his coat, bracing himself against the cold wind that carried the promise of snow. The tips of his ears were burning from the freezing air, and the rather thin fabric of the coat didn't provide much protection against the elements either. He was cold all over, and only his willpower kept him from shivering when he put one foot in front of the other. Maybe it would have been wiser to stay the night at the embassy when the news of the total traffic breakdown had reached him, but after hours-long negotiations, all Spock had wanted was to go home. It was illogical, as the raised eyebrows of his colleagues had indicated, but the promise of spending time with his bondmate had won out over any other considerations.
The communicator in his pocket pinged, undoubtedly with a message from Jim, worrying where he was because more than the estimated hour had passed since he had left the embassy. Spock glanced around him, calculating he would be home in approximately five minutes, and deciding against replying. It would only prolong his time in the cold, and he knew Jim would understand his reasoning. He still lengthened his strides until he reached the familiar apartment complex.
His fingers trembled, entering the correct door code, and a small sigh left his lips when he stepped through the door. It was warmer inside although not warm enough for Spock to take off his coat during the ride in the lift that finally brought him to their apartment.
"Spock!" The door was thrown open before he could touch it, his bondmate beaming up at him. The bright smile gave way to a worried frown though, hazel eyes sweeping over him. "By the stars, you're frozen solid."
"Illogical," Spock murmured but allowed Jim to usher him inside, breathing a sigh of relief when the door fell shut behind him, keeping the cooler air out. He was finally home if not warm yet.
"Come on, take off your coat, sweetheart." Nimble fingers opened the buttons at the front, and Spock withstood the urge to step away, allowing his husband to help him. It would be illogical to keep his coat on, he would warm up faster without it now that he was inside. He still shivered when it was taken from him despite the unusual heat in the apartment.
"You turned the heat to maximum," Spock observed, shivering slightly, the tips of his ears beginning to prickle.
"It's the least I could do after you decided to take a walk in sub-zero temperatures." Jim's voice was laced with equal parts amusement and worry. "Please, take a hat with you next time."
Warm hands cupped his cheeks and Spock reveled in the contact, sighing contently. "I will but I did not plan to spend so much time outside."
"When has life ever cared for plans?" Jim chuckled but sobered when a violent tremor shook Spock's body. "Bathroom, now!"
Spock didn't protest when his husband led him to the bathroom, blinking into the steam-filled room, but pursed his lips when he noticed the filled bathtub. "I appreciate your preparations, ashayam, but the water seems too hot for me in my current state."
"Undoubtedly," Jim agreed, bending down to open the dryer, "that's why you'll need to warm up first." Soft brown eyes glanced up at him. "I know it feels counterproductive but you need to take off your clothes, sweetheart."
A part of Spock balked at the idea of undressing further but logically he knew that his bondmate was right, it would be easier to warm up without his robe on. As fast as he could without giving his body the chance to betray him, Spock stripped down to his underwear. The first shiver hadn't made it past his controls when a warm weight was wrapped around his back, gentle hands guiding his arms into the sleeves of the bathrobe before tying it at the front.
"How's that?" Jim asked, stroking down his arms to gently cradle Spock's cold fingers.
"Better," Spock admitted, stroking Jim's hand gently. He was slowly warming up although his ears and fingers still felt cold.
"See, it was a good idea to get an old-fashioned dryer," Jim grinned, pecking Spock's nose. "God, you're still cold."
Spock quirked an eyebrow at the obvious statement, sitting down on the closed toilet seat when Jim gestured toward it, retrieving something from the dryer once more. It turned out to be one of their softest towels, and Spock sighed in bliss, his eyes slipping closed when Jim wrapped it around his head, covering the tips of his ears completely.
"Hold out your hands," Jim ordered, placing warm fabric over them when Spock obeyed.
"You look a bit like a Vulcan mummy," Jim chuckled, and Spock peeled one eye open to look at him. His husband was crouched between his legs, his graying curls plastered to his forehead, gazing up at him with a soft smile and so much love it made a lump form in Spock's throat. Even after all these years, Jim's love for him never ceased to amaze him.
"Ashayam," Spock whispered hoarsely.
"Hush, just let me take care of you," Jim replied just as softly, starting to massage Spock's fingers through the towel, stimulating the blood flow to the cold digits.
"Thank you, Jim." Spock closed his eyes again, relaxing into the warmth all around him, and the love Jim was radiating constantly. His mind drifted, recalling a similar instance, decades in the past which had played out much differently.
"Come on, Spock, you need to warm up."
"I assure you, Captain, I am adequate." Spock clasped his shaking hands behind his back, tensing his muscles to keep from shivering.
"Sure," Jim snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were buried in a small cave in sub-zero temperatures for hours. Your thermal suit might have kept you from freezing to death but you must still be cold."
Jim could never know how correct his assessment was. Spock couldn't remember ever feeling so cold before, and he would love nothing more than to take Jim up on his offer to stay huddled together under countless blankets but he couldn't. "I am a Vulcan, I can regulate my body temperature without any help," Spock replied, only realizing how harsh he had sounded when his partner stiffened.
"Oh, right, of course, I forgot that Vulcans are indestructible. Please remind me the next time I make the mistake of worrying about you."
"Jim!" Spock called out helplessly but only received a glare in response.
"I'll be on the bridge. Make sure your stubbornness doesn't kill you, I'd hate to look for a new First Officer."
Spock could only stare numbly at the closed door after Jim had left, the shivers wracking his body not solely brought on by the cold lingering in his body.
"Hey, sleepyhead, still with me?"
Spock blinked his eyes open, meeting Jim's gaze with a small smile. "I was so foolish when I was young."
A steep line formed between hazel eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I was so driven by my need to be the perfect Vulcan, I almost cast away my t'hy'la." Until Jim had come to his quarters with a steaming bowl of soup and ordered him to eat it, Spock had believed he had driven his partner away. The hours spent miserably shivering in his quarters had been some of the worst in his life.
"The time you were buried in an ice-cold cave?" Jim asked, likely catching some images through their bond.
Spock nodded. "I could not accept your help then."
"No, you couldn't, and I was stupid enough to take it personally." A wry smile twisted Jim's lips before he touched them gently to one of Spock's digits. "I'm glad we grew past that."
"As I am," Spock said softly, getting to his feet with Jim's help, leaning slightly on his bondmate on their way to the bedroom. Spock blamed it on the lingering effects of the cold when he only remembered the filled bathtub after he had already put on a soft jumper and sleeping pants. "Jim…"
"You're too tired for a bath, I don't want to risk you drowning if you fall asleep." Jim threw back the blanket, covering Spock with it after he had laid down. "Don't worry, I'll take care of the bath before joining you."
Spock nodded, too tired to protest against the waste when all he wanted to do was to sleep. He still kept himself awake though, listening to his husband's progress in the bathroom, and only allowing his exhaustion to claim him when Jim joined him in bed.
"You feel warm again, but one can never be too sure," Jim murmured, wrapping Spock into his arms and drawing the covers closer around them.
"I am warm," Spock agreed, intertwining their fingers over his side, and closing his eyes. He would walk a thousand miles through the cold if Jim’s arms awaited him at the end of the journey.