Important note at the bottom!
The thing about living with a Vulcan is that they are essentially neat freaks. Growing up with 6 siblings left you prone to making a mess and cleaning it up later.
For Spock, this was his version of Chinese water torture, minus the water. He grew up knowing the logical-ness of living in a clean environment. So when you guys first moved in with each other, he figured your messes were just due to the fact it was a new environment for you.
It was after the first month of living together that it finally dawned on the intelligent Vulcan. You were a messy person.
And it was after about two months that you realized he was a neat freak.
But of course, like all love stories, you toughed it out. He began to tolerate your mess making, and you his insatiable need to vacuum.
It wasn't until you were four years into your relationship that you both found yourselves in each other's shoes.
You were visiting your brothers at home when it happened. Your two youngest knocked over a glass of punch. Then 'accidentally' poured their toys all over the house.
You, usually would have just ignored it and yelled for them to pick it up. But this time, it was like a wall that crashed into your soul. You HAD to clean it.
You didn't come to your senses until you were halfway through completely deep cleansing the entire house.
You set the broom down, and sat on a stair. "God, what has Spock turned me into?" You mumbled.
~
Spock was in a similar situation. He was relaxing in your apartment, completely calm and mostly dead to the world, when he decided to order out some fried rice (you introduced him to it, and he was now addicted).
The delivery woman delivered it, and he enjoyed it while also reading through some reports.
He didn't realize how tired he was until the bowl of rice fell from his hands and emptied itself on the polished wood floors.
Part of his brain yelled to clean it up. But another part (one that sounded a bit like you) said to just pick it up later.
Long story short, you came home later that night, exhausted from cleaning so much. You found Spock passed out on the couch, fried rice all over the floor, and his papers scattered about.
It was seeing him basically laying in his own mess that you mumbled, "What have I done to Spock?"
Hey peeps, whaddup? So sorry for not updating lately, chemistry has been killing me.
And I know a lot of you requested, and I'm working on it.
But also, important question. How would you guys feel if I made a book of one shots, Chekov-centric, but without the whole reader insert/ oc romantic interest? It's been clawing at me for a while to make one, and I just want your advice!
Let me know!
~Clieo
