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"I have the best ass in Starfleet," Jim declared, admiring what he could see of his reflection in the turbolift doors.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
They rode from sickbay to C Deck, having both been relieved of duty and ordered to their quarters following a slightly less-than-successful scouting mission on a newfound Class M planet. Jim had gotten bored watching the science team do boring science stuff like scan every lichen and mineral and insect and particle of dust. He'd gone off exploring on his own. It's not like Jim knew the orange flower he picked for Spock to examine (and it was definitely intended for him to examine, not as a gift, because Jim was so not in the habit of Bringing Spock Flowers) had psychotropic qualities and was going to start brawls among the away team members.
"Captain?"
"Sorry," Jim muttered, screwing a fist into his left eye. "It's this damn pollen. I'm saying every thought that comes into my head."
"The pollen has that effect on all humans to come in contact with it. That is why it is prudent," Spock said, "for you to remain in your quarters until Dr. McCoy can synthesize a remedy."
"Yeah, I guess." He dropped his hand and looked at Spock. His face broke into a grin. "You know, on anyone else your haircut would be stupid, but on you it works. I mean, it really works. It looks good on you. You look good. I mean, you always look good...ugh," he said, dropping Spock's gaze and squeezing his hands into fists. "Sorry. How come this stuff's not affecting you?"
"I am affected," Spock admits, "but have been able to remain in control of my speech. It is not without effort."
"Why d'you have to be better than me at everything?" Jim griped. "Sometimes I feel totally inferior next to you. You're this incredible, smart, superhuman—"
"I am not human."
"—guy, and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to have you as my first officer. I still can't believe you walked onto my bridge. Everyone else thinks I'm a big fuckup."
"They do not," Spock assured him as the turbolift doors swished open. Jim pressed his lips together tightly to stop the verbal tsunami. He walked quickly down the corridor, hoping Spock would linger a few steps behind, but he met Jim's pace and caught his arm. "I will see you safely to your quarters."
"You're welcome in my quarters any time, you know. I wish you came by more often," Jim said with so much sincerity it didn't even sound like his own voice. He hated himself as the words tumbled out. "I hate when you leave." He winced and wrenched his arm away. "Fuck, this is embarrassing. When is this going to wear off? I've said enough to get court martialed or at least slapped with a few charges."
"You will not face any charges, Captain," Spock said gently. "You are compromised."
They walked quietly for a few paces. The pollen had acted as a truth serum, but Jim felt like all of his senses were heightened. Jim was keenly aware of Spock's arm just inches from his, of the comforting way he smelled, of the way he kept glancing at Jim every few steps. It made Jim's heart ache a little. He felt his mouth open to say all this, because his mouth and heart were in league against his brain. He bit his lip until he tasted blood and forced his train of thought to shift abruptly.
"I'm sorry for thinking you were such an asshole when we first met," Jim blurted. They approached his cabin. "And I'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. Do you know how bad I feel about saying all that stuff about your mom? I didn't mean a word of it. You know that, right?" He was pleading. He heard it in his own voice. This was worse than the shit that came out of his mouth when he was drunk. He continued to chew the insides of his lips until they were ragged.
"I do. I did not behave courteously toward you at first either," Spock admitted, stopping outside Jim's door. "Perhaps we are, as you would say, even."
"If you want even..." Jim said, and this time it was his libido in charge. He was mortified before he even spoke. "...you've gotta let me choke you on the bridge in front of the crew. Or maybe you'd like to choke me again. I wouldn't mind."
Spock colored faintly green. He swallowed. Jim clapped a hand over his mouth and flushed red.
"Fuck," he swore. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please go, now, before I make an even bigger ass out of myself."
"Captain—"
"Go!"
"As you wish," Spock said and moved efficiently to his own door not twenty feet away. Jim watched until Spock disappeared inside, then banged his head against the wall in frustration.
Jim fumbled with his comm and flipped it open. "Kirk to sickbay."
"McCoy here."
"Bones, anything yet? Tell me you've got something. I just sexually harassed my first officer."
"Good god, Jim, you haven't been out of my sight for ten minutes. Where are you?"
"In the corridor outside my quarters. I should be in the brig."
McCoy sighed. "No one's going to the brig. Get inside before you harass anyone else. I've still got the rest of the away team down here in sickbay for minor injuries from all the fistfighting, and Nurse Chapel is running interference. I'll page you when I need you"
"Thanks, Bones. I don't tell you this enough, but you're an awesome friend. Awesome. I love you."
"Quarters. Now."
"You're such a grouch. Kirk out."
Forty five minutes later, during which Jim was decidedly not thinking about the Vulcan in the adjoining room, Bones paged Jim with the news they'd managed a concoction to counteract the effects of the pollen.
"Get your ass down here," Bones said, "and keep that mouth of yours shut."
Jim hightailed it to the turbolift and met McCoy in sickbay, who scowled at the captain, pointed to a biobed, and jabbed him roughly in the neck. The hypospray hissed with the release of medication, and Jim slapped a hand over the area.
"Ouch, you sonofabitch. That fucking hurts. You're a sadist, do you know that?" He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his nose. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry. How long until this stuff kicks in?"
"It should start working in a few minutes," Bones drawled, "but to be safe, I'd wait a half hour before swimming or going anywhere near your first officer, unless you're finally planning on fessing up to this little crush of yours."
"Keep your voice down," Jim snapped though they were the only two still in sickbay. Nurse Chapel had gone for a late lunch, and the away team had been released. Spock was nowhere to be seen, presumably cured and back on the bridge. "And it's not a little crush."
"You're right," Bones said, folding his arms. "It was a little crush eight months ago when he was still with Uhura. Now that he's available, I'd say you're head over heels for the hobgoblin."
"I just like how I feel when I'm around him," Jim said defensively, curling his fingers over the padded edge of the biobed. "That's all."
"Whatever you say."
"I like the way he looks at me, okay? He has this way of looking at me, like he's looking into me. I like the way his voice sounds when he says my name. Did you ever notice his ears turn green when he's embarrassed? They do. They turn green. And sometimes, at night, the smell of his incense gets into my cabin through the bathroom, and it feels like he's lying there with me, and I can't stand it."
"You ever think of telling him this?"
"No!" Jim shouted then abruptly lowered his voice. "No. He's got enough on his mind without adding my shit into the mix."
"I see," Bones said. "Very chivalrous of you."
"I really hate you sometimes."
"Has it occurred to you that our green-blooded friend might be fool enough to share your feelings? I'm no expert in Vulcans, but this one's attached to you. I'll bet your next shore leave bar tab that if you just talk to him, he'll Vulcan mind voodoo you right into bed. Of course, that would require you coming to terms with your own emotions."
Jim threw up his hands.
"Why is it so important to you that I'm in love with Spock?"
Jim's eyes went wide as the words left his mouth. Bones stared at him smugly. Jim went limp. He collapsed on the biobed and stared up at the ceiling.
"Fuck," he declared.
Bones rocked back on his heels. "At least something good came out of this disaster. Listen, I'm not releasing you for duty until I'm certain this stuff's out of your system. Let's go into my office and drink to your newfound clarity."
One drink turned into three, so shift was long over by the time Bones gave him the green light to resume his post, which was probably Bones's plan all along. The drinks had calmed Jim somewhat but left him melancholy. Bones made him promise to think twice before accompanying the next science team to any surface, anywhere under threat of totally unnecessary (but Bones would make the records look legit) hypospray. And he was categorically banned from picking flowers for life (under similar threat).
Jim skipped dinner in the mess in favor of a sub-par replicated pasta dish in his quarters that he picked at before putting it into the disposal. He tried and failed to read. He took a shower. He attempted to jerk off but kept envisioning pointy ears and gave up. Finally, he stared at the chess set he hadn't bothered to reset since Spock beat him four days ago. With two fingers, he picked up Spock's queen, the last piece he had captured before Spock beat him with a pawn (seriously, a pawn). Jim had been so distracted by the way Spock regarded him over the board, he'd lost track of the game. Instead he'd focused on Spock's dark eyes, the sliver of his wrist when he reached to move his knight, the way Jim’s trousers felt really tight against his crotch, and fuck. He'd lost badly, and Spock took his leave.
Exhaling, Jim rose and went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, then decided he had to get out of his room for a while. Spock would never hold what Jim said against him, but neither would he be able to forget it. For the first time since assuming command, Jim cursed Spock's eidetic memory. Every time he looked at Spock from now on, Spock would look back at him with full knowledge of Jim's affection. Jim didn't like being vulnerable. He felt exposed and wished he could do to Spock what the ambassador had once told him was possible in a Vulcan meld: whisper "forget" and block the day from Spock's memory.
He went to the observation deck. He liked coming here to think. It was late; he stood alone, staring out the large window into the void of space. Strangely, that emptiness before him felt more like home than Iowa ever had. He placed a hand to the window, as though he could communicate that to the cosmos. The footsteps came up behind him softly. He recognized the rhythm, could smell the incense. Spock had been meditating. He came to stand silently at Jim's left, their shoulders just touching. Jim closed his eyes and concentrated on the point where their bodies met. His hand remained pressed against the stars. Neither of them spoke for a long while.
"You were not in your quarters," Spock said finally. Jim shook his head. "I understand the medication has been successful in treating the away team."
"Yeah," Jim said. "Not a minute too soon. Good ol' Bones. I should put a commendation in his file."
"I will remind you tomorrow."
"Thanks. Listen," Jim said quickly, ducking his head. "I couldn't help what I said earlier, and I know I said a lot of stuff to you. I'd be grateful if you'd just forget I said any of it."
Spock did not respond. Jim took his silence as concession and opened his eyes, watching the stars whip past.
"Makes you feel small, doesn't it?" Jim murmured, smiling faintly. "Almost insignificant. There's so much out there, so much life, and we're just specks. Just a blip. But with this ship, I get to explore it. I get to see things most people never dream of. That feeling is incredible, like I actually mean something in the scheme of the universe. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm...like I'm somebody. Not just some screw up."
"Jim," Spock said, frowning. "You mean a great deal. Furthermore, I do not wish to forget what you said."
He pried Jim's hand from the window and held it between his. Turning his head sharply, Jim stared in disbelief.
"Did Bones put you up to this?" he asked. “Or did the pollen finally get to you?”
Spock shook his head. "I am here of my own will."
Jim stared at him, incredulous. He tried to jerk his hand free, but Spock held firm.
"Jim," he said, his voice softer as he traced a pattern along the back of Jim's fingers. He stared into Jim’s eyes unblinking. "I do not wish to forget."
Jim couldn't remember who leaned in first or how his hands ended up beneath Spock's tunic. His just knew that his back was pressed against the window and Spock was kissing him—Spock was kissing him — in the human way, insinuating a leg between his. Jim ground against it desperately. His hands explored Spock's arms and chest and back. Spock threaded his fingers through Jim's hair, and Jim moaned a little pathetically when Spock sucked a bruise onto Jim’s throat. Jim bit Spock's lip and kissed him apologetically. Spock's mouth was hot but his hands were cool. When they pulled apart, Jim noted with satisfaction that Spock's ears had flushed a pleasing shade of green. They were both out of breath.
“So,” Jim said. “My quarters?”
Spock probably noted down to the second (and likely more accurate than that, actually) how long it took them to get from the observation deck back to Jim’s quarters, inside the room, shirts cast aside, sprawled on the desk on top of PADDs and paperwork. Jim only knew they’d made record time, and he was hard, and Spock was hard, and they were actually doing this.
"This is a most fortunate turn of events," Spock said in a voice that, for a Vulcan, was downright playful. He fingered Jim’s lower lip. Jim nipped at his finger. "Perhaps you would be willing to help me with an experiment."
"Bones pretty much banned me from anything science related for the rest of my natural life,” Jim said, sucking the finger into his mouth. Spock closed his eyes and drew in a breath. Jim sucked harder.
"I wish to collect empirical evidence,” Spock continued, sliding off of Jim, trailing his wet finger down Jim’s chest. Spock’s hands found the fastenings of Jim’s pants, “so I may determine whether the claim you made earlier this evening has merit."
Jim pushed up on his elbows and blinked at Spock, confused. "What claim?"
"You claimed to possess a posterior that is unrivaled in Starfleet. As a scientist, I cannot accept your claim without further examination."
Grinning, Jim responded, "You’re planning to check out my ass?" He raised his hips helpfully, and Spock pulled the pants free from Jim’s legs.
"Affirmative," Spock purred as Jim’s pants hit the floor.
That was the day Jim Kirk decided he loved science.