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Jim loved being Captain. The elder Spock had told him a million times it was his first, best destiny, and every time they made landfall on a new planet, or a successful first contact that floaty feeling of good, right, belong and home would swell in Jim's chest a little more. He'd look at his bridge crew and thank all the deities in the universe that his place was right here, in this chair. It was perfect.
Except for that chair, actually.
It was the one thing that Jim could honestly live without because uncomfortable didn't even begin to cover it. Excruciating was more like it, painful and just - ouch. He spent the better part of his shift walking around to every station, trying to keep his ass out of that supposedly ergonomic menace. He'd never had time to requisition a new one, because, honestly, Captains had more important things to do than go to the Starfleet equivalent of Ikea and pick out a new chair. But it rankled him that a man couldn't get a decent place to sit on his own ship. So when he came on to the Bridge one morning to find a new back and cushion on his seat, he was shocked and delighted. And oh, it was like heaven, like sitting on a cloud or a bushel of very well behaved Tribbles. He wasn't shocked when the note popped up on his PADD mid-shift.
Jim, me and the hobgoblin figure you've got a pretty good idea of what a pain in the ass feels like now. Hope you like the new chair. - Bones & Spock
He smiled softly and turned to face his Science Officer who couldn't possibly be that interested in the current subspace anomoly, if the little evergreen flush at the tip of his ears was any indication.
He walked over to the science station and trailed a finger along his First's neck.
"Thank you Mr. Spock, this was very thoughtful."
"Thanks are illogical Captain.” His voice dipped a little lower, pitched only for Jim’s ears. “You are my mate. It is my duty to ensure your well being. I made my observations to Doctor McCoy and he assisted in devising the cushioning for your comfort."
Jim chuckled, and ran two fingers slowly over Spock's.
"All the same. Thanks."
He made his way to the turbolift and to med-bay to thank his irascible physician and lover in person.
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McCoy had groused about the inherent danger of space, and he feared it, respected it in a healthy life preserving way that most of the crew simply did not have. But it was days like this that reminded the man that while the sheer terrifying physical forces of space were nothing to be sneezed at, it was the people, or the beings that inhabited space that were the most dangerous and unpredictable, and annoying. Damned annoying. But McCoy had to grin and bear it, or rather, scowl and bear it and he was thankful, really, that the only measurable effect of the subspace anomaly was that it had imbued the entire crew with a pervasive sense of hypochondria. But that meant countless hours in the medbay clinic spraying ensigns with a hydro soluble placebo and answering the most inane questions in the history of ever. Chekov had been keenly affected, wandering down to sickbay no less than 11 times his eyes wide blue and pleading with the doctor that he was "wery wery sick!" With Chapel off to the conference on Digamma Prime, the doctor had barely had enough time to grab a nutrition pack that morning.
When he smelled the aroma of fried chicken, he thought that perhaps the anomaly had revealed another effect, sensory hallucination. When Jim came waltzing around the corner with a plate full of the stuff and a rose in his hand, Bones had to really take a moment to keep himself from weeping with joy.
"Ok, Bones, I know this stuff isn't exactly high on the list of healthy foods, but-"
"Give it here Jim, I'm starved."
Jim put the plate in front of McCoy, and bowed with flourish, tucking the rose behind his ear.
"Aren't you just pretty as a picture Bones?" He said, taking a seat across from McCoy and propping his foot on the desk. Fortunately for Jim, Bones' mouth was stuffed too full of chicken to reply.
"Oh, and Spock should be down soon with the biscuits, said he was going to give Chekov a proof to solve for differential multi-dimensional phasic variances in Tholian space. Should keep the kid out of your hair long enough."
Jim reached for a particularly crunchy looking thigh, but stopped when Bones gave him his patented death stare.
"I love you, but don't mess with my chicken, Jim."
Jim leaned back and laughed, content to watch Bones scarf down his hard earned meal.
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His hearing was acute, sharper by a magnitude of 30 percent than that of his human counterparts, though slightly less than that of his Vulcan peers. So Spock knew that his human mates were in his quarters when he was approximately 1.8 meters away from his door. His ear twitched minutely as he tried to discern their topic of conversation, and he was surprised to find that they were speaking, what amounted to absolute gibberish. Intrigued he stepped into his quarters and dropped the mental shields he'd had in place all day and allowed himself to half smile at the sight before him. He liked it when Jim and Leonard consented to meet in his quarters, not only was it environmentally optimal for him, as a Vulcan, but it also resulted in a most pleasing display of bare pink skin as Leonard and Jim strove to keep themselves cool. They were perched in the pile of cushions Spock preferred to a standard issue bed and Jim was resting his head on Leonard’s shoulder pointing at the Vulcan text in Leonard’s lap.
“I think it says Ashayam shan’hal’lak t’nash-veh, Az’ir’kh’ar teretuhr*”
Jim turned to suck a bruise into Leonard’s neck and Spock noted a 19.8 percent increase in his heart rate, as well as an unquantifiable itching in his palms and fingertips.
“Az’ir’kh’ar, huh, ka-tala’es katelau?* Leonard asked softly, squinting at the flowing Vulcan script and tracing it reverently.
“Almost, I think.” Jim said, reaching his hand out to Spock to pull him closer and nuzzle softly into a pointed ear tip.
“Your pronunciation is atrocious, ashayam*.” Spock said, tracing his tingling fingertips along Leonard’s and rejoicing fiercely at the doctor's uncontrolled hitch of breath. He kissed both Jim and Leonard the human way before continuing.
“But I am moved that you have undertaken the effort to educate yourselves in my native tongue.”
Bones grumbled a bit before allowing Jim and Spock to pull him deeper into the jumble of arms legs and kisses among the pillows.
“Well, I guess since you’re my T’hy’la and all…” he mumbled, "guess it's the least I can do."
Spock pulled his mates closer to him and reflected that he was truly fortunate to have captured the hearts and minds of two such wonderful men.