I'll Love You
Jim was being Good. Again.
He was not, for example, jumping Spock's bones at that very instant. Nor was he memorising the exact shape, taste and feel of Spock's collarbone (even though it was practically begging for it, in Jim's unbiased opinion).
He was nowhere near Spock, in fact. That is to say, nowhere near enough, when the definition of 'near,' by Jim's present standards, demanded a lot less: air, space, distance, separation, and/or clothing. Yes, Jim was aware of the fact that the first four words might be considered synonyms. Okay, Jim would settle for just the clothing.
But you see, Jim was being Good.
And Good, right now, entailed a few things that did very much involve air, space, distance, separation, clothing (unfortunately) and talking. Also, not scaring Spock by randomly groaning "Oh God Spock please stop looking delectable like that or I will not be held responsible for what I do to you. And if not, if that's impossible for you to accomplish, then can we just have sex once and after I swear we'll discuss everything?"
Not that there was much 'discussing' going on. Mostly Jim was talking (maybe a little nervously) and Spock was standing quite calmly at the other end of his quarters and listening.
"… Uhura is cool with this? Because she seemed cool but it's all been a bit abrupt, hasn't it? I mean you two broke up in a crazy infected fight a few hours ago and now you and me… we're like, what, because… what are we, really? And I'm not saying 'lover.' That's just… never going to happen. So I just don't… hey, are you planning on interrupting me any time soon?"
Spock's lip twitched and Jim grinned back, feeling stupidly flustered and jittery and almost a bit scared, but also this was Spock, so his smile shone true and blinding and perfectly honest.
"You wish to discuss… semantics, at this time?" Spock asked, his expression betraying nothing but naïve innocence.
Oh. How fascinating, the way his low tone managed to suggest so many things. The way his warm eyes mocked his Captain, teasing, knowing. Jim was so onto him it wasn't even funny.
"Well, so long as we're getting technical here." He took a step forward.
"Scientific terminology appears to be your desired topic, yet underlying physiological evidence suggests otherwise," Spock replied, also stepping toward him.
"Great, so you can read my mind now?"
"Not your mind, Jim." Spock's gaze swept down and back up in a fast, heated flash. "Your body."
"Hence my use of the word physiological, not psychological. You understand the difference, I presume?"
It shouldn't sound like dirty talk. It wasn't.
It really wasn't, Kirk!
"Oh I understand."
Jim reached out a hand and gently let it rest on Spock's chest, where a Human heart would be. Then he slid it slowly down and sideways, to where the Vulcan pulse beat fast and fluttering against his palm. His cool hand felt large against hot skin when he let it fall down to Spock's narrow waist.
He couldn't quite believe this was happening. So much want curling around the base of his spine and filling him up, from his toes to the tip of his fingertips (and… other things), so much raw craving and also emotion, no doubt a consequence of the disease, or so Jim told himself firmly (of course, he wasn't a complete idiot, and he didn't manage to fool himself for longer than a second).
It was more than hunger, perhaps rather more like thirst, but somehow stronger… what? Was that even possible? A man could die without water, would Jim die without Spock?
Of course he would. Obviously.
But he knew that already, didn't he?
A voice whispered in his ear that Spock didn't know. That Spock should know. That it wasn't Spock's fault that he'd looked so adorable in that environmental suit and that Jim really needed to get that fabric out of his head.
There was a soft kind of earnestness in Spock's eyes that made Jim fist his hand around the fabric of that awful, useless, restrictive blue uniform that would look so much better on the floor in a crumpled heap anyway.
"I think I should maybe mention a couple of things… just so we're clear here."
With impressive speed Spock stepped back and schooled his features back to unresponsive detachment, although the latter did take him a visible effort to manage.
"My apologies. I was under the erroneous impression that you desired se—"
"Whoa, wait. Stop right there. I… don't think I can handle you saying that just now. Give me a second to explain, please." Jim realised he was already breathing heavily and mentally slapped himself. "I need to tell you how I feel, so that you know."
Spock waited with the same closed off lack of expression.
"I mean… it was a haze. I can remember everything we did and everything we almost did but… it's like we were both super drunk, except that it's like a thousand times worse, isn't it? Does it even count, if it happened like that? Oh hell, I don't even know what I'm saying here. Or trying to say, because it's not like making myself very clear has been mph—"
He had never, ever been cut off from a rambling speech like that before. It was… awesome.
Spock's tongue tasted sweet and felt amazing when it traced Jim's lips, and Spock's fingers dug into his back, hard, oh, but Jim had been sounding like a spluttering teenager, hadn't he? So why—
Spock pulled away and Jim did not whimper. Not even a little, because that would have been a damn girlish thing to do and Jim was all man.
All man, I tell you.
"Forgive me," Spock said, stepping back and neatly smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt. "You were saying?"
"Oh right, sure, I'll be way more coherent after that. Thanks so much, Spock, very helpful!" His mock indignation made Spock's eyes go all sparkly.
"I always endeavour to be of service, Captain."
"Of servi—are you kidding me?" There wasn't even a tiny bit of a shrill edge to his voice now. Nope.
"Jim." Suddenly Spock's voice became deeper and… almost a touch hoarse, as if his throat was raw. "There is no need… your emotions are… I believe I had not been entirely aware of my own… attachment to you. That is true, not until I was forced to confront them today."
Jim sighed in relief. He had been pretty clear on his point of view here, and he'd known he loved… Christ, loved, yes, loved Spock. But what he had really needed now was this. Because Spock had been with Uhura, and Jim might like to project swagger and confidence and whatnot, but really when it came to his own emotions the insecurities hidden there were glaringly obvious.
"It goes against my nature to accept such powerful feelings, which is likely why it was not… you made me doubt every sensation because there is something innately overwhelming about your mind. And your body. You are something I was not prepared for. Something I could never anticipate. You confused me."
Well, what was he supposed to say to that? He could barely speak anyway, his throat was constricted and his heart was apparently bent on trying to choke him.
"Perhaps if you fear the rate of progress by which our relationship has begun, I believe Humans have a term… 'taking it slow'?"
Slow? It was all Jim could do right now not to break into a run and force himself on the man.
But it made sense, of course. And for Spock, he would do this.
"If that's what you want. I can wait."
Spock blinked at him.
"I'm almost sure, anyway." Jim winked and licked his lips and Spock's black pupils were engulfing the chocolate-brown irises of his gorgeous eyes.
"No, it's okay. I don't want you to feel forced or anything."
"I said it will not be necessary." Spock took a step forward, except that it was more of an involuntary lunge of his body toward Jim's.
"I don't know, Spock. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your virtue, here…" Jim sighed, putting his hands up as though to defend himself or maybe to protect Spock's virtue. Except, of course, that the notion of anything virtuous being associated with Spock right now was quite ridiculous. Dark eyes and a poised, intense stance reminded Jim that Spock's ancestors had killed for their mates and lived at the mercy of their tempestuous impulses.
"I assure you that is incorrect."
Jim smiled invitingly and leaned against his desk.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"Your agreement," Spock growled, his voice so low and scratchy that it made Jim shiver in anticipation.
"Oh. Okay then."
The joy coursing through his blood with every beat of his pulse was almost painfully violent.
His affirmative was muffled by Spock's mouth, but it wasn't like Jim was about to complain.
There is something to be said about the human brain's capacity for emotion.
This is just so gratuitous and ridiculous and silly I don't even… *facepalm* If anyone can actually come up with A Point to this, feel free to tell me what it is. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed the fluff in it's purest, undiluted, fluffiest state! XD