Work Text:
Jim Kirk hadn’t had many good friendships in his life. Growing up, there had been few kids his age and fewer that he got along with. He hadn’t been alone, per say, but certainly lonely with his mother up in the stars half of the year and his brother gone as soon as he graduated. If he had a normal childhood, he probably would have still been an extrovert, but not in the way that he was now. He wouldn’t have the unquenchable need for the company of others. Sometimes he felt like a tribble population, exponentially expanding unless someone did something about it. He just needed a few good predators to keep his energy used up, his overflow contained. Sex helped, but it didn’t fully scratch that itch of companionship. Becoming friends with Bones had worked even better. Still, Bones was just one man who had his own problems to deal with. But then he got the Enterprise. With it came thousands of people to interact with and get to know. A wicked smart command team that kept him on his toes and helped carry the weight of failed missions. And Spock.
Jim Kirk hadn’t had many good friendships in his life but now he had enough to keep him full and satisfied. And Spock’s friendship was one he cherished most of all. So he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their relationship, especially not because of a silly crush. Certainly not.
“Have you ever considered hand modeling?” Jim asked, as Spock moved his knight.
Spock looked up, eyebrow already raised. Jim loved Spock’s eyebrows, how expressive they were. Sometimes he said ridiculous things just to see them move. He was pretty sure Spock had picked up on this.
“No,” Spock said, “As I have spent my entire life working towards joining Starfleet.”
“Too bad,” Jim said, moving a pawn. He wasn’t winning, not quite, but he could almost taste it on the air. “You have nice hands. Maybe we should call up the leading brand for 4D chess and see if they have any openings.”
Spock didn’t respond. Jim squinted at him. It was hard to read Spock, but he tried his best. Was that a faint tinge of green he detected? Maybe Jim had embarrassed him or made him uncomfortable.
“Sorry, forget I said anything. My brain goes to weird places after long days.”
They continued to play in silence. Jim’s strategy was starting to pull itself together, he could tell by Spock’s long pauses and hovering fingers. The man did have nice fingers, but that was obviously an inside the head thought, not an outside one.
After a little while, Spock said, “Is that a real Terran job? Hand modeling?”
Jim blinked. Apparently they weren’t done with that conversation. “I guess? For food or rings. They’ll pick pretty people with pretty hands and suddenly you’ll want spray can whip cream one hundred percent more cuz you watched someone lick it off their fingers.” Shit, now he was imagining Spock sucking whipped cream off his fingers. Abort abort abort.
Spock’s face was definitely greener, but he said in an even tone, “And you think I am one of these ‘pretty people with pretty hands’?”
“Um, yeah? Don’t tell me you don’t know you’re pretty. Uhura went out with you for a full year.” Jim had definitely not been relieved when they had a mutual breakup and went back to being friends. That was not the behavior of a supportive best friend.
“Hmmm. Beauty is subjective.” Spock said. “Just because Uhura found me beautiful, does not guarantee that you would.”
“Um, who said anything about me?” Jim moved his queen. “Check.”
Spock blinked down at the board.
“Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?” Jim taunted, sticking out his tongue.
Spock raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to waggle your fingers in your ears and say ‘Na Na Boya’ next?”
Jim laughed in the way he almost only laughed around Spock: startled and full of joy. “Maybe!”
Spock got himself out of check, but a few moves later Jim got him again.
“Should we film a demonstration of my hand techniques?” Spock asked, out of nowhere.
Jim’s brain spluttered like an engine without gas. “Uh, what?”
“For the 4D Chess brand.”
“Oh.”
“Or maybe that cream whip company you mentioned?”
“Uh.”
Now Jim could only imagine Spock in a gauzy black shirt, half unbuttoned, a pretty woman spraying whipped cream on his hairy chest. Spock’s long fingers lazily gliding through it and making their way to his mouth. Fuck.
“Maybe not tonight,” Jim hedged.
“Are you nervous my impending fame will draw too much attention away from your middling moment in the spotlight?” Spock asked, even toned as always.
Jim spluttered, “Now wait a minute. I could just as easily become a hand model. I take good care of these hands.” Bones had gotten him into fancy moisturizers and shit. They smelled like blossoms and sunshine.
Spock raised his eyebrow again. “Have I touched on an insecurity, Captain?”
“Jim,” Jim corrected, “And no. You have not.” Chess game completely forgotten, he thrusted his right hand to Spock, palm up, fingers spread. “See for yourself.”
Spock’s breath hitched slightly. Had Jim crossed a personal space boundary? But he gently took Jim’s hand in his own. His long fingers wrapped around the side of Jim’s hand, moving gently between the length of his pointer finger and the tender skin where his thumb extruded from his hand. Jim’s heart was beating faster. Probably because they rarely touched each other. It was just a rare experience and those always felt weightier than commonplace ones. That was probably it.
Spock’s thumb joined the rest of his fingers in their stroking, but it brushed from his palm up to the pad of his middle finger. Jim swallowed hard. The sensation was so light but it was all he could focus on. His entire world narrowed down to Spock’s thumb moving back and forth.
Then, slowly and gently, Spock moved his hand so their palms pressed against each other. He moved his fingers slowly down their matching pair, sending shivers up Jim’s spine. The smaller two fell away, leaving only his pointer and middle fingers. These he pressed more firmly against Jim’s matching pair. Jim took in a deep, unsteady breath. He didn’t know why this was hitting him so hard, but he could feel his dick thickening in his regulation Starfleet pants.
“What do you think?” He asked, voice shakier than he’d have liked. “Are they up to the task?”
Spock’s voice was gravelly as he answered. Fuck, Jim was never going to get that sound of his head. “Quite adequate, Captain.”
Then, with a final brush of his fingers down Jim’s palm, Spock pulled his hand away and moved a piece on the board. “I fear that is checkmate.”
Jim looked down on the board. Somehow, while he had been pursuing checkmate, Spock had maneuvered them towards Jim’s own king.
“Good job, Mr. Spock,” Jim said, shifting in his seat. “I think we should call it a night, don’t you? Early morning tomorrow, lots of planets to explore.”
Spock nodded and stood up. He was almost to the bathroom door that connected their rooms when he said, “Did you… find that enjoyable, Captain?”
“Jim,” Jim reminded him, “And yes, of course.” He loved their chess games.
“Would you… want to do it again?”
Jim twisted in his seat to face him. Spock was looking over his shoulder, like Orpheus in the underworld. “Of course, Spock, why wouldn’t I? It’s becoming a cornerstone of our relationship, is it not?”
Spock’s voice was almost uneven as he said, “Our relationship?”
“Spock,” Jim chided. “Don’t tell me you’re too Vulcan to acknowledge we have a relationship. Everyone knows we do. There’s no way to hide that you like me.”
Spock’s cheeks were definitely green now. Jim shouldn’t have brought up feelings, even if they were just feelings of friendship. He knew they embarrassed his friend but he couldn’t help it. He loved their relationship, the way they just got each other and stood by one another like no one else ever had for him. If Spock thought anyone cared that he had friends, he was dead wrong.
“Oh.” Spock said. “And you… like me too?”
Jim huffed. “Duh. Listen, I’m beat for the night,” Really he just had a hard-on to deal with, but it had the same result of him desperately wanting to get into bed, “And we do have a long day tomorrow. You don’t have to say anything now, I know admitting you have feelings is hard.” He hoped his tone was playful enough, “Sleep well, okay? Don’t overthink things.”
Spock nodded, then turned away. “Good night, Jim.”
“Night Spock.”
That night, hyper aware of the object of his affections and fantasies being on the other side of a bathroom, Jim got himself off to the idea of Spock’s fingers against his.
Something Jim said must have resonated with Spock, because he acted increasingly comfortable around Jim after that. More often than not, he remembered to use Jim’s given name when they were off duty and he touched Jim exponentially more. Small things, like hugs on hard days or their shoulder’s touching during meetings. They didn’t caress hands like that again (which Jim found himself oddly disappointed about) but Spock would squeeze Jim’s hand when he was stuck in Sick Bay. Sometimes he would even hold up two fingers and Jim would meet them with his own. It was probably a silly reference to that night.
Jim liked the new changes in their relationship. He also hated them with a passion. It felt like flying too close to the sun, everytime he rested his arm on the back of Spock’s chair or when he put his hand on the small of Spock’s back, ostensibly to lead him places. It felt like exposing his tender heart to the world. Jim did it anyway.
Maybe that’s why he agreed to Spock’s uncharacteristically ridiculous plan.
They were facilitating a treaty renewal on a beautiful planet. Similar to Earth’s Venice, the capital city had no roads, only winding rivers of clear water. Everyone floated on large flowers if they wanted to get somewhere. It made everything slow and serene, the pace of life no faster than the currents of the water.
The night after the treaty was re-signed, a major holiday occurred. They were informed that outfits would be provided for them and that all of the food would be labeled with allergens, for Jim and a few other crew members comfort. The atmosphere between the landing party was ecstatic. It had been a rough few months, with too many deaths and not enough days off. This was officially work but the closest they had to a vacation in forever.
“I hope they give me something in green,” Jim told Bones, lying on his bed as the other man reviewed the menu for the night. They had provided a booklet with all of the food and their chemical makeup. Jim was half convinced Bones was more excited about that then free booze and a cool cultural experience.
“Uh huh. You just want to look pretty for your hobgoblin.”
Jim blushed. “Don’t call him that. And he’s not “mine”.”
“You aren’t denying that you wanna look like a shining southern belle for him though, are you?”
“No… you’re right. Even though it’s stupid and self-destructive. Maybe I should find someone else to hookup with tonight. It’s been too long.” In all honesty, Jim couldn’t remember the last time he had hooked up with someone. He only got the chance during shoreleaves and occasional diplomatic missions, which were few and far between. At his last shoreleave, he and Spock had visited a bookstore and ate a nice vegetarian meal as they watched the four suns set. It was nice. Nicer than sex, though that didn’t keep him from craving it.
“Great idea.” Bones said. “Then you can write a treatise on whatever weird sex organs these people have.”
Jim grinned. “Glad you get it.”
His outfit arrived a few hours later. He showered and fussed with his hair, then shaved as carefully as he had in months. The outfit was pale green: a silky tunic made out of the leaves found on the huge flowers this civilization used as boats. It swished as he moved. No pants came with it, so he put on his briefs and considered his reflection in the mirror. Not his usual look, but it would have to do.
He found Spock standing near the wall in the ceremonial hall, holding a glass that looked like a fruity drink. He was wearing a similar tunic, but made of rich blue petals from the same flowers. It looked soft. Jim wanted more than anything to stroke his hand down Spock’s hip, until it found Spock’s bare leg. He restrained himself.
“I have been gathering data on the purpose of this festival,” Spock said, in lieu of a greeting. “It seems they use it to reform bonds and find new ones.”
“Oh?” Jim was busy looking at Spock’s hair, which looked extra soft in the moonlight.
“Numerous dignitaries have asked if we would be joining the hunt to create new bonds.”
“And what did you tell them?” Spock’s legs were so long. Jim was entranced.
“That we would not. They looked aghast, so I explained we already had a bond.”
This pulled Jim out of his stupor. “Oh?”
“It seems their idea of forming new bonds is a group intercourse. We will not be participating in that.”
Jim thought that sounded kinda fun. A good way to get out of his head, as long as it was done well. Sex with multiple parties could go either way. Either everyone feels mutually satisfied or some members find people they like better and someone ends up neglected. His self esteem probably wouldn’t hold up if the latter happened. He doubted that’s why Spock objected though. It was most likely to protect his image with the crew. Also important. He would have never thought about that himself. That’s what he had Spock for.
“Right,” He said, “So, what, we just watch?” He imagined watching a sensual scene with Spock. Spock would probably have ridiculous commentary. He didn’t know if that would be funny or too much for his poor heart.
“No.” Spock was looking away, at a few partiers who were making out against a wall. “They said it was custom to reaffirm our bond in the hall under the moonsight flowers.” Jim looked up. Sure enough, the huge blue flowers hung above them in a pretty canopy. When he looked back down, Spock was looking straight at him. “I asked if it would cause issues to reaffirm the bond elsewhere.”
“And?” Jim felt like he was on the edge of a cliff. He had been on many of those, over the years. Some looking out onto churning oceans, others onto endless jungles. Some at arctic wasteland, others scorching desert. This cliff just looked out onto the empty abyss of nothingness. He didn’t know what would happen if they jumped.
“They said it would be fine. Jim, shall we go to your chambers?”
Spock’s eyes. Dark and endless. His cheeks tinged a little green. His full lips.
The weightlessness of falling. “Sure. Lets.”
They walked slowly to Jim’s chambers. As they walked, they saw amorous couples in alcoves, on chaises, pressing each other against walls. Luckily, no one they knew. Jim didn’t know what he would do if he saw Chekov sticking his tongue down someone’s throat. He’d probably have to stop and have a conversation about safe sex. He might never make it to his chambers with Spock then.
Just as they reached the door, Jim grabbed Spock’s hand. “Wait. What are we…”
He was cut off by the whir of his Universal Translator. He turned. A dignitary was standing behind them. “Ah Captain,” The person said, mouth moving unaligned with the words that Jim heard. “Leaving the party so soon?” Their shoulders wiggled, a move that cultural pamphlets had explained meant similar things to wagging ones eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you and Mr. Spock were a bonded pair.”
“By some standards, yes.” Spock said before Jim could say otherwise. He didn’t know why, but he almost confessed that they weren’t. This was the whole point of going to his room. To seem like they were taking part in the festivities.
“You are very distant for a bonded pair.” The dignitary said, hips rotating. Jim couldn’t for the life of him remember what this one meant.
“Vulcan culture is very different,” Jim said at the same time that Spock said, “In my culture we are currently embracing.”
Jim glanced at Spock. A bluff? What did he mean by that?
The dignitary made a hrumph sound that was almost universal across worlds. “You are on Eke. Embrace the way the Eke do.”
Jim was not a big fan of being ordered around. Okay, not entirely true. He wasn’t a big fan of being ordered around if he hadn’t asked for it. And by someone who wasn’t his partner. He had half a mind to chide the dignitary about cross cultural differences, but then Spock was pushing him up against the wall, their bodies flush to each other.
Jim had only a moment to inhale before Spock’s lips were on his.
Spock’s lips were surprisingly soft. Had Bones gotten him into speciality chapstick too? They tasted like sweet punch. Jim wanted to lick the flavor out until all that's left was Spock. That wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do to your first officer, however, so he just melted into the closed mouth kiss. But then, Spock pushed his hips into Jim’s and Jim couldn’t help but gasp. Spock’s tongue took the opportunity to insert itself into his mouth. Jim moaned and grasped Spock’s hips, pulling him closer as his own tongue joined the party. All he could really focus on was the hot heat of Spock’s body and the little noises he was making. One of Jim’s hands went to Spock’s head and he caressed his hair. Yup. Just as soft as he figured.
Spock pulled away then. His face was as placid as ever, but his cheeks were bright green and Jim could still feel his chest heaving.
“Was that enough of a demonstration?” Spock asked coolly. Jim had completely forgotten they were in front of an audience. The dignitary flushed orange and nodded.
“Moonlight shines bright on your bed tonight.” They said and hurried away, stepping a little unevenly.
Spock brushed his hair back in place and opened the door. He gestured to Jim to enter first. Jim did, adjusting himself as casually as possible as he did.
“I do not like putting on a show,” Spock said, following him inside and closing the door. “I had hoped to avoid that.”
Jim didn’t say, then why did you initiate that? But it was a near thing. Instead he tried for a smile and said, “Chess?”
Spock looked up at him, eyes wide. “Of course.”
They played for the next few hours. Jim’s mind was barely on the game, though. All he could think about was that kiss and the fact that Spock didn’t even want to do it in the first place.
Jim was thankful that nothing seemed off between the two of them. Sometimes he caught Spock studying him, but he never seemed guilty or caught out, so he figured it was harmless. They still touched like they had before, though now the ghosts of that night followed them. What Jim would do to gather Spock up in his arms and kiss him silly. In reality, it had been the opposite. Jim got a little weak in the knees thinking about it.
They had easy jobs and they had hard ones. The easy ones made him remember how much he loved his job, the hard ones found him in Bones’ office, throwing back drinks. After an especially bad mission, where they lost over half of the landing party, Jim found himself pacing the small space.
“I keep wracking my head for what I could have done better,” Jim said, clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I just can’t think. I can’t think. I feel thoughtless. I feel adrift. God, Bones. It was so awful. I never want to think about it again. I need to evaluate it until my brain cracks open and I can guarantee we’ll never make such awful mistakes again.”
Bones took a sip of his drink and eyed Jim wearily. “I think ya need to lay off the drinks tonight. Maybe do some other type of unwinding.”
“A duel?” Jim perked up. Maybe Sulu would want to take out his fencing equipment…
“Not at all what I was suggesting. They are showing a movie in the recc room, maybe that’ll take you out of your mind for a bit.”
Jim grimaced. He didn’t think he could be around the crew right now. He felt like he had personally failed them all. He didn’t mind the idea of getting out of his mind for a bit though.
“Maybe Spock will want to play some chess,” Jim mused. Sometimes, if they were very competitive and Spock pulled out his trash talk, Jim forgot that there was a world outside of their quarters.
“Sure,” Bones said, “As long as you don’t manage to talk Spock into fighting you. As your doctor, I’m taking that off the table, you hear me?”
Jim nodded. He was too fucked up to fight about things tonight.
He knocked on Spock’s door and rocked on his heels. Spock hadn’t been on the mission that day, thank God. If something happened to him… Jim didn’t think he would be able to continue.
The door opened and Spock was wearing a loose black shirt and black pants. Pajamas? Jim couldn’t remember seeing him in them before.
“Jim?” Spock asked, “Is everything okay?”
Jim nodded, “May I come inside?”
Spock gestured for him to come in. He didn’t leave the doorway, making only enough room for Jim to brush past him. He shivered at the point of contact, no matter how small it was.
“What can I do for you?” Spock asked, once Jim had settled down into his usual chair.
“Chess? I need some escapism.”
Jim could have sworn that Spock glanced between him and the bed. Maybe he was thinking about the sleep that Jim had interrupted.
Jim stood up abruptly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll go.”
“Ashayam,” Spock said, suddenly standing in front of him. His beautiful hands were on Jim’s shoulders, pushing him back into the chair. “It is fine. I just thought you might want to do something else after what happened today.”
“Like what?” Jim shot back. “Writing condolence letters? Asking Starfleet if we could have more redshirts because we lost half a dozen today? What can I do, Spock? How can I feel better?”
Spock looked at him. He was now standing above Jim, which was causing all sorts of feelings inside of him. Mostly, horniness. Jim had a pet theory that people liked to be the opposite of their normal selves in bed. In his life, he preferred to be in charge and answer to no one. In bed however…
“May I take care of you?” Spock asked. “Would that be acceptable?”
Jim swallowed. He didn’t know what that meant but he trusted Spock with his life. If that meant plumeek soup and a Vulcan massage, he would be so down.
“Sure.”
Spock’s cheeks were bright green but his voice was steady as he said, “May I kiss you?”
Jim nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastic.
Spock’s half lidded eyes darkened. Instead of leaning down to press his lips to Jim’s, he said, “May I maneuver your body?”
“Um. Yeah.”
Spock nodded and gently slid one arm under Jim’s legs. The other arm supported his back. Bridal style, Jim thought, a little hysterically. Spock carried him over to the bed and gently laid him on top of it. All Jim could do was lie there, watching Spock stand above him, dark and beautiful like the whirls of space.
Spock just looked back for a while. Like he was trying to take in all of Jim. Jim felt warm and squirmy under his gaze, but not unhappy about it.
“Are you going to be good for me?” Spock asked, after it had been a minute. Jim gasped, the words unexpected but exactly what his cock wanted to hear.
“Yes, Mr. Spock.”
Jim could have sworn Spock smirked a little at that. Slowly, his long fingers went to his pants, unbuttoning them slow as molasse. “Are you positive, Jim? I’ve heard all sorts of things about you.” Spock’s pants fell to his feet and he smoothly stepped out of them, not even looking down. Underneath he wore tight black briefs. Fuck. Jim’s mouth was dry.
“Oh?” He asked, voice breaking slightly.
Spock stepped closer. His hands rested on Jim’s upper thighs. Jim barely resisted gyrating his hips upwards. “I’ve heard you can be stubborn and insubordinate and unwilling to bend,” On this last word, Spock’s thumb brushed underneath his pants. Now Jim pushed his hips up, willing Spock to get the message. Spock did, pulling his pants down to his ankles in one swift movement. Buttons went flying. Vulcan strength, fuuuck.
Spock’s hands returned to Jim’s thighs, slowly brushing against the edge of his briefs.
“I’ll be good, I swear.” Jim said, toes curling in his boots.
Spock tilted his head. “‘I’ll be good, sir.’”
Jim had to push down his grin, keep his eyes wide and innocent. “I’ll be good, sir.” He parroted.
“Get this off, then.” Spock said, tugging at the hem of Jim’s shirt. Then he slowly lowered himself until he was straddling Jim’s hips. Jim wanted to buck into him, but he was being good.
“Yes, sir.” He pushed himself up to his elbows, but with one strong hand, Spock pushed him back down. His other hand grabbed Jim’s wrists and held them above his head. Now Spock was leaning over him, face inches away from Jim’s. His ass was slightly lifted to do so. Jim so badly wanted him to sit down and grind against Jim’s hard dick.
“Mr. Spock,” Jim protested. “How will I be able to take off my shirt like this?”
Spock was definitely smiling, if smiling meant the slight upturn of neutral lips. Lips Jim still had not kissed tonight, despite Spock’s earlier question. He rocked up slightly to do so, but Spock pushed him down with his free hand. He clicked his tongue. “Did I say you could do that?”
“No, sir.”
“Why did you then?” Spock’s hand rubbed against Jim’s hard nipple through his shirt.
“Because I’m not good at bending to others' will.” Jim put a nice emphasis on bending.
Spock nodded. “That will change by the time I’m done with you. Now take your shirt off.”
“I can’t, sir. You’re holding my hands.” Jim wriggled a little, like he was trying to break free. Spock’s grip was firm. Not too tight but not letting go.
“Ask nicely and I will let you go.”
Something warm unfurled inside of him. “Please, Mr. Spock, may I take my shirt off?”
Spock pretended to consider it, then shook his head slowly. “I am not convinced you truly want to. I would never do something you did not want to do.”
God I wish you would, Jim thought, though he didn’t truly mean it. He loved the type of play where he pretended not to want something and the other person took it. That was not what this was. Spock wanted him to beg, so he would beg.
“Mr. Spock please. I need to take my shirt off. I need you to touch me there. I need to show you what a good boy I am.” He rocked up slightly, just enough to press his hard dick into Spock’s still raised ass. Spock sat down, firm and rewarding. Jim stifled a moan.
“You will owe me,” Spock said, as he slowly released Jim’s wrists.
“Anything,” Jim gasped, as he wriggled himself out his shirt. Then he was mostly naked, save for his briefs which were getting wet with precum. He arched into Spock again, reminding him that Jim had a very needy dick that would not mind a little attention.
Spock ignored it. “Anything?”
“Yes,” Jim couldn’t keep back the moan this time. Spock’s voice was so gravelly, his eyes so intense. His hands ran down Jim’s exposed chest. One found its way to his right nipple and was playing with it absentmindedly.
“Touch yourself.” Spock said, rocking a little on Jim’s dick.
“What?” Jim gasped, almost unable to comprehend what Spock was saying. Spock’s other hand was pulling down his briefs, tangling them up around Jim’s knees.
“Show me how you please yourself.” Spock repeated, grinding down again. Jim’s hands leapt to his weeping dick. It was a close space, with Spock on top of him, but it made it even better somehow.
He spread the precum up and down, groaning at the feeling of contact. Spock just stared into his eyes. His gaze was almost as heavy as himself. Just as powerful. Jim moaned, his hand speeding up.
“Slow.” Spock said, “We have all night.”
Fuck. “Fuck.” Jim slowed down. He still felt so close. On that cliff again, but this time he could almost see what was below.
“Stop.” Spock intoned. Jim pulled his hand away quickly.
Spock gingerly pulled himself off of Jim’s hips. Jim felt empty, abandoned. Spock took off his own briefs, revealing a dark green cock. Jim’s mouth dropped open, watering.
“Like what you see?” Spock sounded amused.
“Yes.” Jim sat up. “May I suck it, sir?” He batted his eyelashes.
Spock’s cock shot up further. Jim grinned. “Is that a yes?”
Spock’s eyes fluttered shut and he didn’t move for a moment. Then he nodded. “On the floor.”
Jim hurried to comply. Spock handed him a pillow and Jim couldn’t help but melt. When he was situated, Spock stood in front of him and gently ran his fingers through Jim’s hair. “Pleasure me.”
Jim did.
He loved cocksucking. Nothing felt more satisfying than bringing pleasure to someone else. The sounds that Spock made, the tugging on his hair, the way he couldn’t help but fuck into Jim’s mouth? It was everything. His own cock agreed.
Spock was close, he could tell. Jim went deeper, a little past his comfort point, then added his hand, still slick with his own precum. Spock gasped and said, “Jim, I am--” but before he could finish, he came into Jim’s mouth.
Jim swallowed it down, satisfied. When Spock had recovered, he pulled Jim up and pushed him against the wall.
Now he kissed him. Hands squeezing his ass, mouth marking his throat, strong thigh pressed into Jim’s achingly hard dick.
“Come,” Spock commanded, nipping at Jim’s neck. Jim couldn’t help but comply.
They stood there, breathing hard, for a moment. Then Spock was gone and Jim sank to the floor.
Spock was back moments later, washcloth in hand. He gently cleaned them both up. Next he handed Jim a loose shirt and boxers he recognized as his own. Jim climbed into them, drowsy and brainless.
“Sleep,” Spock said, lifting him up into the bridal position once again.
Jim fell asleep.
When he woke up, he was in his own bed, alone. It could have almost been a dream, if not for the fresh hickey Spock had left right as Jim had come.
It wasn’t every day, but after that, they had sex on a regular basis. After a good duel? Spock manhandled him to their rooms and got them both off, big hands wrapped around their cocks. After a bad day? Spock took Jim into the shower, washed him off with tender hands and then knelt and sucked his cock. During their first shoreleave in months, Jim convinced Spock to go dancing with them. Spock mostly watched, but Jim put his all into that dance floor. Afterwards, Spock fucked him for the first time. Deep and slow, eye contact unabating, hands clutched together.
Jim didn’t know what to think of it. He didn’t want to push things, but it felt like something more than hooking up. Spock kissed him so tenderly: in the elevator, when they parted each night, during hot and fast sex. They also never stayed the night in each other’s places. Spock dressed him and deposited him into his room every single time.
Jim didn’t tell Bones about it, though he wanted to so badly. He knew his friend would tell him it was a bad idea and he didn’t want to hear it. It was a bad idea. He would probably end up getting hurt. Maybe when Spock revealed a second wife hiding somewhere. Or when he went out with another beautiful and talented crewmember. There was no way Spock liked him the way that Jim liked him. He would have said something.
He would have said something.
Then they were assigned a mission to Vulcan. Routine dropoff, not their normal prerogative.
“My father wants to meet you,” Spock explained, over a game of chess.
Jim blinked and moved a piece at random. “So he requested we drop off a bunch of equipment?”
Spock did his equivalent of shrugging. “I do not think my father cared about the method of getting the Enterprise to Vulcan.”
Jim agreed that made sense. Still, “Do you think he’ll like me?”
Spock raised an eyebrow. Rook moved. “Just be yourself, Jim.”
That was not a yes.
“Are you excited to meet the parents?” Bones crooned a few days later, as Vulcan came into view. Jim was vibrating out of his pants with anxiety and they had broken out some good ale to calm him down.
“It’s not like that.”
“It kind of is.” Bones gestured his glass at him. “Maybe Vulcans can make things official until you’ve met the parents. Uhura and him didn’t get together until after we saved Vulcan.”
Jim grimaced. He hated thinking about those days. “That’s correlation, not causation. Anyways stop talking about them.”
Bones smirked. “Jimmy and Spock, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S--”
Someone knocked at the door. Jim slammed his hand over Bones’ mouth. “Yes?”
The door opened, Spock stood in the doorway. Of course he did.
Jim pulled his hand away from Bones’ mouth. “Hey Spock!”
“We are within range to beam down. Are you ready, Jim?”
“Give me one moment! I’ll meet you down there!”
Spock nodded, looked between the two of them, and then walked away.
“--I-N-G.” Bones finished.
“You’re a child.”
“No, you.”
Jim jumped up and started to brush off his clothes. “Do I look okay? I’m not acting drunk right?”
“You had one drink. Calm down.”
Jim shot him a glare but took a deep breath. “Wish me luck, Bones.”
“Enjoy meeting the in-laws!” Bones crooned.
Jim flipped him off and ran after Spock.
Spock seemed uncharacteristically nervous as they landed on Vulcan. Since it was such a simple job, Jim had left Scotty in charge. The others had beamed down ahead of them. It was only the two of them as they walked across the sandy ground that made up Vulcan.
Jim glanced at Spock. He was clenching and unclenching his hands. Either a habit he had picked up from Jim or vice versa. Jim could not be sure.
“Hey,” He grabbed Spock’s hand. “It’s just your parents.”
Spock shot him a look. “My father is the Ambassador to Earth. And my mother… well she’s my mother.”
Jim couldn’t argue with that.
When they made it to the house, Spock took a deep breath, then rang the bell. Almost immediately, Amanda opened the door. Her face broke into a grin and her arms wrapped around Spock. “My baby is home!” She exclaimed into his hair.
To Jim’s surprise, Spock’s arms went around his mother as well and he seemed to relax into the embrace. They hugged sometimes but only when Jim was feeling awful or when he was especially sleepy. Spock was holding out on him.
When Amanda released her son, she opened her arms up for Jim. “Are you a hugger?”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled him into her arms as well. She smelled like spices and warm summer days. She was a good hugger. Jim could understand why Spock hadn’t protested this.
When she released him, she said, “Oh, none of that. Call me Amanda.”
“Call me Jim then.” Jim said, as if he didn’t insist everyone call him that. From over Amanda’s shoulder, Spock raised an eyebrow at him. Jim only just resisted the urge to stick his tongue out.
Amanda squeezed his shoulder. “Spock has told us all about you. I’m glad we could finally meet under better circumstances.” She linked her other arm through Spocks. “Come inside, your father will be happy to see you.”
To Jim’s unending surprise, the house didn’t look all too foreign to him. There was a soft looking couch with throw pillows and a handmade quilt folded across it. A coffee table with books (both in Standard and in Vulcan) and forgotten coasters. The living room opened up to a small dining room and a large kitchen that seemed to be stocked with spices, dried vegetables, pans, and cookbooks. And on the walls were pictures of Spock.
“Oh my god,” Jim murmured, coming up to one of Spock missing his front two teeth. He had the same haircut and everything, but his face looked petulant and grimy.
“Spock hated bathtime with a passion,” Amanda said over his shoulder. “I had to chase him around the house to get him to clean himself.”
Jim turned to look at Spock. His face was bright green and he was staring up at the ceiling.
“Let me go get your father,” Amanda told Spock, unhooking her arm from his. “He’s probably up in his study.”
Once she was gone, Jim let his shit eating grin unfurl.
“Bet you’re regretting this already.” He crooned. “Does Uhura know? Oh man, I can’t wait to tease you with her for once.” Recently Uhura and Spock had been ganging up on him with awful suggestions like: maybe you should eat some vegetables. Or: maybe you shouldn’t shoot this random gun we found. Jim was doing everything in his power to keep Bones from learning about the new Jim-Should-Be-More-Responsible tag-team.
Spock’s face was still flushed but he said, “The good of this visit outweighs the cost.”
Jim snorted. Of course Spock would compare something like visiting his family to Utilitarianism.
He looked around the space in comfortable silence as Spock did something on his Padd. There was a bookshelf chock full of familiar and unfamiliar titles. Jim could spend hours looking at it, wondering which member of the family had added what.
Finally, Amanda came down the stairs with Sarek in tow. Spock’s father was wearing gray robes that looked almost casual and his face was decidedly neutral. No one could mistake him as anywhere near as enthusiastic as his wife.
He held his hand up in a Vulcan salute and said, “My son. Captain Kirk.”
Spock reciprocated while Jim tried to get his fingers in position. By the time he managed anything passable, the moment had passed.
“Dinner is ready if you’re hungry,” Amanda said, smiling gently at them.
Everyone agreed dinner sounded good.
Sarek and Jim sat at the dining table while Amanda and Spock brought the food to the table. Jim overheard Spock asking over Jim’s allergies, which made his heart flutter in his chest. Things like that demonstrated how much Spock cared for him, even if he didn’t reciprocate the romantic side of Jim’s feelings.
The dining table was a little too small to fit four fully grown adults. Either Jim’s knees could awkwardly bump into Sarek’s, or he could turn them to press into Spock’s. He chose the latter, no question.
Amanda and Spock talked about recent missions on the Enterprise and updates from people Spock knew. Jim didn’t mind sitting and listening. He liked the easy rhythm they had accomplished through years of dinners like these.
When Jim was finished eating (it was delicious, he always missed real home cooked food after being on the Enterprise too long), Sarek asked, “Are you planning to get bonded while you are here?”
Jim glanced at Spock. While he had explained a little about his ex-fiance T’Pring, they generally didn’t talk about her. Still, Jim knew that bonds were important for Vulcans. He was pretty sure he didn’t know all of the details, but he figured Spock would tell him if it became relevant.
Spock’s eyes didn’t leave his plate. “We have not discussed it.”
Jim felt a sting of panic. Had Spock started courting someone? Some pretty Vulcan girl who could understand Spock’s long but charming scientific rants? He wondered, idly and painfully, how that had come to be. Maybe there was a dating app for hot single Vulcans. God he wouldn’t mind scrolling through that. The one downside would be his inability to keep himself from swiping right on Spock. That would make things unbearably awkward.
Maybe it wasn’t more than an arrangement, like things with T’Pring had been. Afterall, Uhura and Spock had been together while he had still been engaged to her. It wouldn’t be cool of Spock to keep fucking Jim if he was getting serious with someone else, right?
“Well, no rush.” Amanda said. “We’re always happy to see you again. Anytime. Right, Sarek?”
Her husband nodded, though his face gave off no sign of being happy to see them. Maybe it was because of Spock’s mixed origin, but Jim never felt like he was as emotionless as Sarek. Jim actually hated when people blamed Spock’s mixedness for him not being human enough or not Vulcan enough. It wasn’t a fifty fifty, this trait is human, that trait is Vulcan thing. He was just a person with a slightly abnormal heritage. He was allowed to be whatever he wanted.
Jim’s internal rant made him miss what Spock said in reply. Now Amanda was saying, “Sarek has an early morning tomorrow, so I think we’ll call it a night. Is there anything I can do for you two before I go to bed?”
Spock said, “No, mother,” just as Jim said, “No thank you, Amanda. Thank you for hosting us.”
She smiled and patted both of their heads before taking the dishes to the sink. Sarek did another Vulcan salute before disappearing down the hall to where, presumably, his bedroom was. Spock excused himself to the bathroom. Jim followed her, bringing the half empty pyrex she had brought dinner out in.
“Do you need any help?” He asked, placing it on the counter.
Amanda shook her head, hands already scrubbing away at their dishes. “All good in here. You can help with breakfast in the morning, if you’d like. How do pancakes sound?”
Jim grinned. “Delicious. Um, sorry, I forgot to ask. Where am I staying tonight?” He wasn’t sure if the house was big enough for two guest bedrooms or rather, a guest bedroom and Spock’s childhood room. He wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch. It looked like it was more comfortable than most couches he had stayed on in his years.
Amanda turned off the sink and turned fully to him. “Spock said you were comfortable sharing a bed. Is that not the case?”
Jim flushed and wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure if Spock meant that in a nice wow we’re such good friends platonic way or if he didn’t mind that his parents knew about his sexual partners. Probably the former. He couldn’t imagine Spock telling his parents that he was fucking his Captain on the regular.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just… didn’t realize.” He rubbed the back of his neck, willing the red to go away.
She smiled and took his other hand in her slightly wet one. He didn’t mind the wetness, especially in the pervasive heat. “He really cares about you. I hope you know that. I know it can be hard with Vulcans and their adversity to talk about their feelings.”
Jim nodded. He understood that. He didn’t need Spock to shout on the rooftops that they were friends. He did need Spock to be clear what being friends entailed. Like bed sharing. That was definitely a new one. “Thanks. It’s nice to talk to someone who… gets it.” Not that their situations were exactly the same, but still. At least Amanda knew her husband loved her that way.
Amanda squeezed his hand. “I’m a message or call away if you ever need someone to talk to.”
After that heartwarming and affirming conversation, Jim found Spock waiting in the living room for him. “Are you ready to sleep, Jim? Or do you want to stay up longer?”
Jim smiled. “Sleep sounds good.”
Once they were in Spock’s room, however, sleep was the last thing on his brain. Upstairs and next to his father’s study, Spock’s childhood bedroom was isolated from the rest of the house. Jim wondered if that’s why Spock said they could share a bed. So he could act out some fantasy of having sex in his childhood bedroom.
The room itself was pretty simple. A double bed with another handmade quilt laid over it. An empty desk and worn desk chair. A framed picture of Spock and his parents on his bedside table.
“All of my personal items are on the Enterprise,” Spock said, as Jim examined the room. For some reason, that made Jim smile. He liked that Spock’s room there was more personalized. A place to call his own. Still, he wouldn’t have minded some posters of people Spock had idolized as a teen plastered on the wall.
“It’s nice.” Jim said, sitting on the bed. Spock hovered over him for a second, but then sat beside him.
“It went well.” Spock said. “They like you.”
Jim thought Amanda Grayson could like almost anyone and he wasn’t convinced that Sarek liked him all that much, but he hummed his agreement.
“I am sorry for the intrusive question.”
Jim couldn’t begin to guess what Spock was referring to. Maybe he had overheard Amanda ask if it was okay for them to share a room. It was probably his way of apologizing for putting them in this slightly awkward situation.
“It’s totally fine, Spock.” Jim replied. “I don’t mind.”
Spock was silent for a moment. Jim dared a glance at him and found him lost in thought.
“Spock?”
Their eyes met. Spock’s mouth was tight and pulled to the right. “Fine has variable meanings. So does ‘not minding’. Are you discomforted with what was proposed?”
Jim didn’t say, well I’m here on this bed with you, because that wasn’t what Spock was actually asking in his roundabout way. He was really asking if Jim was comfortable sharing a bed with him overnight. Jim was, truly. He just wished it was something more.
“No. Actually I… I like the idea of it. Is that weird?”
Spock’s eyes darkened. “No it is not ‘weird’. I also find myself liking the idea.”
Jim smiled. There. Communicating, accomplished. Now Spock wouldn’t force him to leave after they had sex every night. Hopefully.
“Well then,” Jim said and leaned in to kiss him.
Jim was right that they slept in each other’s beds after having sex. Well, Spock slept in Jim’s bed. They almost exclusively had sex there, along with playing chess and filing their reports together. It was becoming a domestic scene, with Spock’s books left on one nightstand and his meditation mat finding its way into a corner of his room. They had a nice bottle of lube readily available and Jim was almost always the small spoon.
It was nice. Really nice. Jim wanted more.
He wanted to call Spock babe and kiss him on the cheek as they switched over the conn. He wanted to walk hand in hand and be made fun of for being a ridiculously sappy couple. He wanted to be a couple. It felt like they were, until he remembered that Spock would have said something if he wanted them to be. Then he felt all of his happiness deflating like a bouncy house full of too many jumping kids.
It was better not to think about things. Better to enjoy them while they lasted.
One day, as they were getting ready side by side in their bathroom, Spock said, “It would be more convenient to convert my quarters into a study for the both of us.”
Jim blinked, mid flossing his teeth. “What?” He asked, though it sounded more like, “Uth?”
Spock set down his comb. Jim didn’t know why he bothered, no matter how much he tried to muse it, Spock’s hair refused to get out of shape. “Since we are primarily using your quarters to perform intercourse and sleep, it might be more efficient to transform my quarters into a work environment. There is a wealth of research that says keeping work out of your bedroom increases productivity--”
Jim thought, wildly, then I should probably keep you out of there, but didn’t say this. Instead he said, “Well if there’s a wealth of research that says so.”
The second Jim got a chance, he was in Bones’ office.
“Bones I’m in love with Spock and he keeps fucking me just how I like it and I think he just proposed we move in together but we aren’t officially dating, I would know if we were.”
Bones looked up from his book. Some 23rd century book about pandemics in human history.
“Say that again?” Bones asked, eyes blinking.
Jim plopped into the seat across from him. “A while back Spock and I became friends with benefits and it was nice but excruciating at the same time. I didn’t tell you because I knew it was a bad idea but oh my god Bones, today he proposed we convert his room into a study for us which means he’s always going to be in my bed!”
“And that’s a bad thing… how?” Bones asked.
“Because we aren’t dating!” Jim threw up his hands. “It’s one thing to sleep overnight in your fuckbuddies bed. It’s another thing altogether to remove the possibility of returning to your own bed. Also Spock has a hot Vulcan side piece somewhere. Except I’m probably the side piece, aren’t I. So really a hot Vulcan main chick! God, I’m smart enough to know this situation sucks but not willing enough to get myself out of it.” He put his face in his hands. “What do I do, Bones?”
Bones, in a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, patted his back. “There, there, Jimmy boy. Surely it’s not as bad as you think.”
Jim looked up. “It’s worse! His parents were talking about Spock getting bonded again to this Vulcan. Bonded!”
Bones frowned. “Well then you need to tell Spock what’s on your mind. He’s taking advantage of your feelings for him to warm his bed while he waits for his marriage to come through. Either you need to end it or he needs to end it with the Vulcan gal.”
That was reasonable. That was smart. Jim would do that. Soon. Maybe in a few days. Just enough to cherish what they had for a little longer before he was distraught for the rest of time.
Jim imagined Spock’s new wife coming aboard. Eventually they’d have little Vulcan children running around. Maybe he’d be Uncle Jim. That wouldn’t be too bad. Would it?
“Okay.” He said. “Okay.”
Jim did not say anything to Spock for a while. They were assigned a particularly difficult mission involving tunneling to the center of a planet to retrieve colonists who had gotten trapped there. Then there was the week of constant engine failures and Jim felt like they were constantly going to explode or be stuck drifting in space forever. It was a relief to come home to Spock every night.
Finally, they were headed towards shore leave and Jim couldn’t take it anymore. They were lying on his (their) bed after a long day. Spock was reading something on his Padd and Jim was attempting to reread a paperback he loved when he blurted out, “What are we doing?”
“I am currently reading,” Spock replied, voice amused, “You have been staring at the same page for the last three point four minutes. Has your comprehension of Standard left you?”
Jim shook his head and turned to face Spock. Spock. He was so pretty in the warm glow of Jim’s lamp. His face looked soft, his eyes sparkled, his lips were turned slightly upwards.
“I mean, what are we doing with our relationship?”
Spock looked pensive. “Are you not enjoying the time we spend together?”
“Yes of course I am! Being with you is the best part of my day,” Jim rubbed his hand across his face. He should have written a script or something.
“Good.” Spock said. “The same is true for me.”
Jim could let it go. Obviously Spock enjoyed whatever they were doing. But whatever they were doing didn’t have any stability to it. It could explode at any moment like a supernova. Then where would he be?
“Spock. I want to define our relationship.”
Spock’s eyebrows shot up. “Jim. Are you suggesting that we…”
Jim’s breath caught in his throat. What did that mean? Did Spock look amenable to the subject? He wasn’t throwing Jim out of bed or laughing in his face, at least.
“That we get together? Yeah.”
Spock inhaled. “I had assumed we were waiting. I have been informed that humans like taking their time for matters such as these.”
Jim’s laugh was tired. “Not this long. Spock, I want you. Do you want me? Like that?”
Spock sat up, eyes intense. His right hand took Jim’s in his. “Yes, Jim. My Ashayam.” That sounded like a good thing, right? ‘Yes, Jim’ was definitely a good thing. God, Spock wanted him. Elation roared through Jim’s body. “I will have to call my parents and set a date.”
“A date?” Jim blinked. “Your parents?”
“For the bonding ceremony.” Spock said. When Jim’s expression didn’t change, Spock frowned. “That is what we were discussing.”
Jim’s face heated. He was pretty sure he would know if they had been discussing getting married. “No, um, I was talking about getting together officially. Like, boyfriends.” Seeing Spock’s expression, he amended, “Partners, if you like that better.”
Spock sat up straighter. “Jim. We have been partners.”
Jim shook his head. “Sorry, Standard is weird. Romantic partners, not just Captain and First Officer.”
Spock’s expression didn’t change. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Jim, we have been romantic partners for the past 7.8 months.”
Jim felt like someone had turned a snow globe upside down. Everything felt off balance and unreal. “Um. What?”
“Two hundred and thirty three days and eighteen hours ago, I asked if you enjoyed our first kiss. You stated that you did. You then went on to say that it was ‘a cornerstone of our relationship.”
Jim blinked. “Sorry, I don’t have the memory of a Vulcan. I remember kissing on Eke but I don’t remember talking about it at all…”
Spock frowned. “We kissed much sooner than that, Jim. Do you remember,” His face flushed green, “When you brought up an alternate career in hand modeling?”
Jim nodded, also flushing. God, he hadn’t been subtle at all had he?
“And then we performed the Vulcan kiss for a two point seven minutes.” Spock said.
“Vulcan… kiss?”
Spock froze. Up until that point, he hadn’t seemed all too concerned with Jim’s lack of knowledge. Now, with his body tense and mouth flat, Jim could see the implications playing through his head. “You do not know what a Vulcan kiss is.”
Jim laughed awkwardly. “No? Sorry?”
Spock put his middle finger and pointer finger out. Like always, Jim met them.
“That is a Vulcan kiss. Am I correct in stating that you have not been aware of how often we kiss?”
Jim opened and closed his mouth.
“Were you not referring to a romantic relationship when you stated that ‘everyone knows we have a relationship’?”
Jim took his hand away from Spock’s so that he could press it to his mouth. “I may have been referring to our friendship.”
Spock stared at him. “That was not properly communicated.”
Jim’s mind whirled. All this time. Almost a full standard year. They had been kissing the Vulcan way unbeknownst to him. Then, of course, they had started kissing the human way too.
“When you said you had hoped to avoid kissing me on Eke? What was that about?”
Spock’s expression was placid which meant he was probably freaking out. “I only said that I had hoped to avoid putting on a show for outside viewers. Jim, you know that I enjoy kissing you, both the human and Vulcan way?”
Jim blushed. “Yeah.” That much was obvious. “But, uh, you like me romantically too?”
Spock gave him a look. “I took you to meet my parents. We have been cohabitating for two days short of a month.”
Jim threw his hands up. “I thought I met your parents because we’re best friends!”
Spock climbed off the bed. Now his face was away from Jim’s, which didn’t help amend the chilly tone in which he said, “We shared a room, Jim. Was that not amenable?”
Jim felt like he was having flashbacks to that conversation on Spock's bed. “No it was. It all is. Look, we talked about this already while we were in your childhood room.”
Spock turned to face him. “Did we.”
“You apologized about Amanda asking if it was okay that we shared a room and I said, it was fine, and you said,” Jim put on a Spock voice, “‘Are you discomforted with what was proposed’ and I said I liked it because I really do like sharing a bed and room with you and then--”
Spock cupped his face in his hands. “Ashayam, I was referring to my father’s question about bonding.”
“Oh.” Jim remembered the mysterious Vulcan. “Who is it?”
“Who is who?”
“The Vulcan you want to get bonded with. Who are they?”
Spock released Jim’s face and took a step back. “I want to bond with you. I thought I made that clear enough.”
Spock had said that tonight but… “That’s who you were referring to? That night?”
Spock nodded.
“Fuck. I made a mess of this, didn’t I?” Jim buried his face in his hands to hide his burgeoning tears. He was so stupid. He could have had something good, something reciprocated and real with Spock. Instead he had managed to fuck it all up, like he always did.
In a careful voice Spock said, “Jim.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to be in an exclusive and romantic partnership with me?”
Jim dropped his hands. “Yes. I do.”
Spock nodded. “I also want this. Therefore, you have not ‘made a mess of this’ as you have stated.”
Jim shook his head. “I led you on. Or, I made you think we were on the same page when we were not. We met your parents for fucks sake! I didn’t realize how big of a deal that was.”
Spock put his hand on the top of Jim’s head and stroked his hair. Jim had no choice but to lean into the touch.
“Jim,” He murmured. “It is okay. We are on the same page now.” Slowly, he stepped forwards and pulled Jim’s face against his chest. Jim acquiesced, the tears already forming.
Through the tears, Jim realized he should clarify something. “I want to bond with you, but not yet. Is that okay?”
“Yes, Ashayam. We have all the time in the world.”
“So what you’re saying is, Spock was down bad for you this entire time and you didn’t know it?”
“Yes, Bones.” Jim groaned.
“And you kept leading him on, thinking he was talking about your friendship when in reality he was trying to communicate about your romantic relationship?”
“Yes, Bones.”
“And you still want him?” This comment was directed at Spock. “Maybe you should return to sender. I think this model is a little dysfunctional.”
“I will hedge my bets with the Jim I have, Doctor McCoy. Thank you for your consideration.” Spock’s tone was amused.
“Uh huh. Come back to me when he’s looking for his reading glasses and they are on the top of his head.”
“If you insist, Doctor.”
“Are you done, Bones?”
“For today, maybe. We still have two years of this damn mission and I won’t be wasting gold like this.”
Jim wouldn’t be wasting the last two years of their mission either. From the faint smile on Spock’s face, he agreed.