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When the turbolift shudders and grinds to a stop between floors, Spock immediately gives Jim the Eyebrow. "What?" he protests, half laughing, half indignant. "You can't give me that face like it's my fault."
"It would not cross my mind to make such an accusation were it not for past experience proving it possible," Spock replies, and Jim takes a step closer, rolling his eyes with a chagrined smile.
"It was one time, Scotty needed the credits and wouldn't let me just lend it to him. I had to think of something he could do for me."
"And having him stop the turbolift between decks to give you and I twenty minutes of privacy--"
"Stop acting like you didn't enjoy yourself," Jim interrupts laugh, resting a hand on the wall and leaning into Spock, their bodies aligning, familiar and comfortable.
Spock's eyebrow lifts, his expression implacable. "I would never pretend such a thing. I am merely pointing out that since it proved worthwhile the first time, to expect a repeat occurrence--"
He's cut off as Jim leans up to kiss him, one hand at the nape of his neck. "Shut up," he mumbles, a soft sound in the back of his throat as Spock's hands press hard into his hips, pulling them closer together. That doesn't seem to be enough, though, because a second later Spock turns them, crowding Jim against the wall with his shoulders scraping the door panel.
In moments Jim's gasping, shoving up against Spock, hands under his shirt, seeking more of the heat radiating off of him. "Jesus," he breathes as Spock's hands roam his skin, "I should've paid Scotty to stop the lift, God," and Spock's mouth is on his again, hard and hungry.
"I admit to some amusement at the degree to which you enjoy encounters you believe to be illicit," Spock says, his breath warm on Jim's neck, and he wishes he didn't find it so desperately hot that Spock can always manage to form complete sentences when Jim's doing his best to unravel him.
"You telling me you don't? Or that you don't think it's illicit? 'Cause I'm pretty sure anyone else would tell you messing around in a turbolift is frowned on by--" Spock kisses him to shut him up, and Jim's really okay with that; he's generally okay with anything that involves Spock's hands and mouth on his, possessive, hard enough to bruise, every touch telling him yes, more, mine.
They're in there long enough to get good and rumpled, to forget that eventually things will resume and they'll be back on their way to where they were when they got in the turbolift to begin with. In there, it's just them, and so Jim thinks they can be forgiven for being surprised when the lift starts moving again. Surprised enough that they lose their balance-- Jim stumbles sideways, and Spock, who'd had all his weight pressed forward against Jim's body, careens backward, his arms flailing to prevent himself falling down.
And Jim can't help himself-- he'd like to say he did the right thing, the nice thing, and didn't laugh. But the sight of Spock going from making out to startled and almost panicked in two seconds, his arms windmilling even briefly-- well, he's only human. He laughs until he thinks he's going to burst-- until they come out of the turbolift to see Bones and Uhura coming out of the other lift looking like something just hit them both soundly upside the head.
One can only hope, Jim thinks wryly, and tries to keep his grin under control as he goes to talk to Scotty about what happened with the lifts.