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Jim was new to the chair, and he knew that as the youngest captain in Starfleet he would have to prove his worth. He had spent most of his 32 years working his way up from the Academy to the Farragut to the Enterprise. Pike himself had called him aboard numerous times for extra leadership training. Logically, he knew he deserved this seat, this captaincy.
But logic didn’t stop the little monster in his chest from screaming he was an imposter and soon everyone would know it. The crew, the brass—everyone needed to see that they hadn’t made a mistake when giving James T. Kirk the Enterprise. He needed to prove it to them, and even more to himself.
On paper, the mission was going well. In all his reports, things looked shipshape and functioning. But, real life was different from logs, and in real life it was clear that his crew was unhappy. They moped and were too quiet. The rec rooms were empty at all hours, even on weekends. When Jim walked the corridors every evening before bed, it didn’t sound like a healthy thriving ship. It sounded like a problem.
“What’s wrong with my crew, Bones?” He demanded, throwing himself down in a chair. “Is there something in the water? Are they lacking adequate vitamin D? Has some strange new life form come aboard and sucked the joy out of everyone?”
“I told you, Jim, everyone aboard is healthy as a horse. But I’ve been digging into the data and I think I have an answer for you.” Bones passed him a PADD, and Jim frowned at the screen, unsure of what he was seeing.
“What’s this?”
“Too many screens, that’s what it is!” Bones began pacing and Jim steeled himself for another rant about the evils of screen use and modern technology. “All anyone does is play video games and work out in the gym! And even in the gym they’ve got their screens on!” Jim sighed, and nodded, and wondered if he could take a quick nap to make the rant go faster. “Everyone is sleep deprived, Jim! Everyone!” Jim startled and jerked upward, wondering how Bones had read his mind. “It’s an epidemic throughout the ship. Even you could use a break from all that blue light.” Jim pointed a finger at himself and made a face. He knew he spent too much time staring at PADDs. He knew he should rest his eyes and find a new hobby. But knowing and doing were two entirely different things.
“I won’t be a dictator on this ship, Bones. Everyone here is an adult and they can spend their time off duty however they please.”
“Not if it’s detrimental to the health of the crew they can’t!” Bones kept pacing and then looked up like he had just had an idea. “I’m right and I’ll prove it to you.” He disappeared through his office door, and when he returned ten minutes later Spock was with him.
“Well, hello Mr. Spock, I didn’t expect to see you here. How are things in the science labs?”
“Nothing is on fire, sir.”
“Excellent, just how I like it.” He smiled at him and stared at the sharp lines of his face until Spock looked away, and then he stared some more. It wasn’t strictly polite, or captainly of him. Another bad habit he should stomp out, really. But Spock fascinated him, and he always felt like if he just observed him long enough he could solve the puzzle of him.
“The doctor informs me that you are concerned about the crew’s performance.”
“Yes,” Jim said, perking up. Spock would surely have some fresh ideas of what to do. “What do you think, can you turn that Vulcan logic of yours towards a solution to our morale problem?”
“Of course, Captain. As First Officer, the health and safety of the crew is of utmost importance to me. I believe, in this instance, Doctor McCoy is correct. The crew must be separated from their screened devices.”
“I refuse to treat these people like children.” Jim stood and began pacing the room. “It is none of our business what they do in their free time! Do you expect me to dole out time in the brig? Forcibly remove PADDs at the end of every shift? I appreciate that the two of you are on the same side for once, but I am not going to dictate what people do when they aren’t working.”
“I would expect nothing less from you, sir.” Spock had his hands crossed behind his back, and his shoulders were hunched just a little but in a way that Jim thought meant he was nervous.
“Spock!” Bones cried out, wounded.
Spock held out a hand to stop him from speaking. “I do not disagree with you, Doctor. Or you, Captain. I believe this problem calls for a creative solution.”
“Oh,” Bones sat down, stroking his chin. “Well, yes then, I suppose that is a good idea.” He looked sideways and Spock and Jim wondered what such a look meant. “Why don’t you and Jim work on it? Put your heads together and see what happens.”
Bones looked at Jim and Spock looked at Jim and Jim had an inkling that he was being set up for something. A prank, perhaps? A surprise of some kind? He found he didn’t care, since Spock was involved.
“Alright,” he said cheerfully, “let’s get creative then.”
So, Mr. Spock, what is your creative solution to our problem?” Jim sat in Spock’s quarters with his legs crossed while Spock paced the room, looking deep in thought. The chess board was set out in front of him, but they hadn’t touched it yet. “I find myself at a loss for how we can convince people to change their habits.”
“This is, to borrow a human expression, a long shot, but have you considered simply telling the crew that their behavior is having a negative impact on them?”
Jim sat with that thought a moment, wondering how he could explain to Spock that humans simply didn’t work like that. The research had been clear for centuries at this point and it didn’t change anything—people still used their screens too much and let themselves become sleep deprived. Then, he saw the quirk of an eyebrow that meant Spock was making a joke, and he laughed out loud.
“Of course that would work for a logical Vulcan like yourself,” he teased gently, “we humans don’t quite work that way.”
“I am quite aware,” Spock said in a way that made Jim laugh again, and his fondness for his first officer threatened to swell up out of him like a wave.
“We need to get them to do something in their off hours that will actually recharge them instead of draining them. Should we adjust the schedule? Give them more time off?”
“Starfleet research suggests our current schedule is most beneficial to all of the species aboard. Having five eight hour shifts within a seven day period allows everyone time for rest and hobbies outside of their typical work. And for…” Spock uncharacteristically paused, “relationships.”
“You think we should be encouraging more fraternization? It certainly can’t hurt but I must admit I’m a little shocked it’s your first suggestion!”
“Not at all, sir.” Spock shifted from one foot to the other. “Perhaps we should set an example?” Jim choked a little thinking of him and Spock and all the ways they could fraternize together, and then he realized that Spock was gesturing to the chess set. “There is no reason we cannot move our nightly game to the rec room.”
Jim quickly agreed, though part of him rebelled at the idea. Their evening games were one of the few times he had Spock all to himself, and he didn’t want to lose that. Spock seems to sense his hesitation. “Not permanently, of course.”
“Of course,” Jim agreed, and that was that. They moved to the rec room right away.
After a few weeks of playing publicly and setting out a few other games in public areas, the crew was beginning to catch on. Jim noticed Chapel and Uhura playing a complicated board game. Bones and Scotty played rummy. One group of ensigns even began regular rounds of old fashioned charades. The rec room hummed with the sounds of friendly competition, and Jim relaxed. Had this really been enough to solve his ship’s problems?
“This wasn’t enough to fix it, Jim.” Bones practically threw a PADD at him as he leaned back onto his desk in sickbay. “Only a quarter of the crew are even participating, and it’s helping them, sure, but not everyone else.”
“I suppose it was never going to be this easy,” Jim sighed.
Bones’ eyes twinkled at him and he said slyly “Back to the drawing board for you and Spock then.”
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
“And in the meantime isn’t it nice to spend some time together?” Bones raised an eyebrow. “Just you and Spock, together, alone.”
“It’s not like that,” Jim said, ducking his head. “You know it’s not like that.”
“I think you two are the only ones on this ship who don’t know it’s like that,” Bones muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Jim chose to walk away rather than engage. Maybe deep within his own heart he felt something for Spock other than friendship. He could admit that to himself. But, it was clear Spock didn’t see him as anything other than his captain. Jim didn’t think Spock even saw him as a friend! He was man enough to take the rejection and move on.
Days later, they met in Spock’s quarters to discuss the problem. “What do Vulcans do in their free time?” Jim wondered. “You do more than work and meditate, what activities do you enjoy?”
“Are you asking me as Spock, or me as a representative of the Vulcan race?”
“Both, I suppose. Though I am more interested in what your personal answer is. I know you like chess, and reading.”
“I also play the Vulcan lyre.”
“A lyre !” Jim exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You’ve been holding out on me, Spock! Would you play me a song?”
Spock looked startled, and then endearly shy. “Now, captain?”
“Only if you’d like, Spock. I don’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“I would hypothesize that that is precisely what you intend to do.” There was no venom in the words, and Spock ducked behind the screen separating his bed from the rest of the room to retrieve his lyre . Once back in front of Jim, he looked at him with a sharp, unreadable look on his face.
“I do, on occasion, write my own compositions. I surmise you would like to hear one of those, rather than a traditional tune?”
“Yes!” Jim leaned forward, eager to hear this glimpse into Spock’s mind. A song! He wasn’t surprised, exactly. He knew Spock wasn’t the cold, logical, emotionless alien others saw him as. No, he was funny, passionate, and wound as tight as a drum. Usually his first officer was intensely private, and having him offer to play his own music felt like the most precious of gifts.
Spock perched on a chair across from Jim, and ran his long fingers over the strings of his lyre. The sound was similar to some earth instruments Jim had heard, but somehow still strange and alien. As he played, he sang, and Jim was bewitched. He understood enough Vulcan to get the gist of the song, and he could tell it was about unrequited love, a love too big for one world. He wondered at who Spock had written it for, and felt himself flush in shame at his jealousy.
When Spock was done, Jim cleared his throat and smiled at him. “That was beautiful, Spock. I shouldn’t be surprised since you’ve talent for everything I’ve seen you try your hand at. Thank you for playing for me.”
Spock stroked his lyre and nodded. “Nyota and I used to play together often. She has an exceptional voice.”
“Then together you two must put on quite the performance. Why did you stop?”
Spock seemed to consider the question, then shrugged. “I am unsure. Many things have changed since those days, when Pike was captain. Nyota and I are not as close as we once were.” And there it was—the love Spock had sung about. They were clearly friends, and he wondered if they had ever been more, or ever could be more.
Above all, he wanted Spock to be happy.
“Perhaps our first project could be a performance?” Jim asked, gently. “Uhura could sing with you. I still remember some Shakespeare from my days doing student theater. I’m sure there are other hidden talents among the crew. What do you think, Mr. Spock? Is a talent show what our crew needs?”
“It will be a worthwhile attempt. I will begin arranging things tomorrow. I will schedule it during the period that human crew refer to as ‘the week end’.”
Spock scheduled the talent show, and Jim was happy to see his crew rise to the occasion. It was mostly the same groups who had joined in rec room activities so far, but there were a few new faces. The rec rooms became rehearsal studios filled with music and laughter and applause. When he walked the corridors he caught snippets of conversation about it, even beyond those who would be participating.
The crew had staggered weekends, but there was usually one day every week where they ran the ship with a skeleton crew and encouraged socialization. Spock had scheduled the performance for an evening where almost everyone could attend, and Jim was grateful.
When Jim entered the rec room he was thrilled to see that someone had erected a small stage on one side of the room. Scotty waved him toward it, a grin on his face. “You like it, Captain?”
“It’s magnificent!” Jim said, eyeing up the boards. “How did you do it? I didn’t think the equipment replicators could make anything this long.
“A little of this, a little of that,” Scotty said with a wink. “I can’t tell ye all my secrets now can I?” Putting aside his concerns about what else Scotty was getting up to down in Engineering, Jim stepped on the stage to serve as MC for the evening. Spock and Uhura were first on stage, and it was truly an experience watching them perform. Uhura’s voice was rich and lovely, and Spock strummed the lyre the way Jim imagined he would stroke a lover. He watched the looks they gave each other on stage and he burned the jealousy that he knew he could never do anything about or admit to. Still, he felt it, and watching them there his heart ached for what he couldn’t have.
It was a hard act to follow, but by Jove his crew did their best. One after another they climbed on the stage and danced, sang, recited, performed. At the end of the evening the whole crowd erupted in cheers as the performers took a final bow, and Jim urged them on. “Give it up one last time for the most talented crew in the ‘Fleet!” Everyone leapt to their feet and he suspected the high of it would keep them all aloft for days if not weeks.
Most people left after that, but Jim, Spock, and a few others stuck around to pick up the trash and put the room back to its usual configuration.
“Scotty?” Jim called, looking around for his chief engineer as he knelt by the stage, “how do you want me to take this thing apart?”
The whole room turned to where Scotty stood by the door, and Jim’s heart dropped at what he saw. There, in plain view for all to see, Scotty was kissing Uhura. Not just kissing her, really kissing her, a back bending, romantic kiss that should have been accompanied by a sweeping score. “Mr. Scott!” He exclaimed, as the rest of them laughed and went back to their work.
“Sorry, sir,” Scotty grinned, “couldn’t help myself.” Uhura laughed and straightened her clothes, then kissed Scotty more chastely and left the room. Jim turned to Spock, dreading what he might see on his face. But his face was unreadable to him. He seemed completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t even seen the blatant display of affection.
Later, they walked the corridors back to their rooms together.
“Are you alright, Spock?” Jim asked him gently. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“It, Captain?” Spock glanced over at him and all Jim saw on his face was confusion. Had he perhaps not seen Scotty and Uhura?
“Uhura…” he began, unsure of what to say.
“Did you not enjoy the performance?” Now Spock stopped in his tracks and gave him a worried look. “I thought we performed quite well.”
“No, no, you were magnificent! Both of you. But especially you,Spock, I could watch you play all day!”
“Hyperbole,” Spock said simply, but he looked pleased at the praise. They continued walking.
“I really could though,” Jim insisted. “You’ve got remarkable talent. At this, and everything really.”
“You flatter me, Jim.” And oh how his heart sang that it was Jim now and not Captain.
“Does praise need to be flattery? It’s well earned, you don’t need to worry.”
They were stopped in front of Spock’s door now, and Jim had a flash of feeling like he would at the end of a date. He was leaning on the wall, his body arched towards Spock. For his part, Spock was also standing close to him, and his eyes were intent on Jim’s own. His hand rested a mere finger length away from where Jim’s rested on the wall.
“All that I can say then is thank you, Jim.” They lingered for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, before they seemed to realize simultaneously that it was late and they ought to retire for the evening.
“Goodnight,” Spock said, and it seemed to Jim that Spock’s eyes were lingering on his lips.
“Sweet dreams, Spock.” Jim replied, and left before he did something he might regret.
The rest of the week Spock was the perfect picture of professionalism, and Jim wondered if he had imagined the way his dark Vulcan eyes had watched him. Or maybe it was a reaction to seeing Uhura with Scotty, a sort of rebound to make himself feel better. Jim watched him closely, even more closely than usual, and by the end of the week he was sure of it. Spock was withdrawn, distant, and not at all himself. He didn’t call him Jim even once, and he canceled their usual chess match.
Jim wondered if he might feel awkward, as if he had overstepped with him. He wondered if Spock had realized later that their conversation outside their rooms had been perilously close to flirting. He wondered if Spock felt shame at that all mixed together with the rejection from Uhura. He longed to give him some comfort.
After two weeks of it, Jim insisted they play their game in private, and he spoke up. “I know Vulcans don’t have quite the same emotions as us humans, but I want you to know that I understand the feeling of unrequited love and if you’d ever like to discuss it I’m here for you, Spock.” Jim wanted to put a hand on Spock’s shoulder but pulled himself away. Spock was frozen and stiff, looking like a deer in headlights.
“I do not know of what you speak.”
“It’s okay, we don’t need to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable. Among humans it is customary to offer one another comfort and friendship for this sort of thing. It’s cliche but there really are plenty of fish in the sea.”
“The sea, Captain?”
“Just an old earth expression,” Jim smiled at him, a little surprised at how tense Spock looked. “Like I said, if you’re uncomfortable we can move on.”
“That may be best, sir.” Spock moved his knight and Jim realized he had to change his strategy; Spock would have him mated in five if he wasn’t careful.
“For our next event, should we try a play? The Shakespeare Chapel did seemed popular enough, maybe they’d like a whole one. Sulu was telling me the other day that he has a whole stack of replica historical weapons in his quarters so we could likely use those for any battle scenes.”
Spock raised an eyebrow at him, and he knew they were both thinking of the time all of the crew’s inhibitions had been wiped away and Sulu had come flying out of his room with sword in hand.
Of course, as soon as they made their way to Mrs. Toohr to ask about costumes, they had to change their plan.
“Are you out of your minds!?” She exclaimed, getting up from her sewing machine. “Do you have any idea how much time I’m already spending on outfits for all these crazy away missions? And you!” She pointed a finger at Jim. “If I have to fix one more uniform top because you conveniently tore it right where it would display your assets then I am going to teach you how to sew and quit my job the next day! Now out! Out of my workshop!” She chased them out, and Jim didn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed.
“Well that idea’s gone then.”
“‘If Sulu wishes to display his private collection, perhaps we ought to encourage a viewing experience.”
“Like a show and tell?” Jim hummed and thought it over. “That could be fun.”
They arranged the rec room so that the tables formed a rectangle around the perimeter of the room. Crew members claimed tables and one by one they filled up with treasures Jim had never imagined. There was art, knitted hats, baked goods, jewelry, and more. Sulu had claimed two tables; one for his collection of ancient weaponry and one for his plants. Scotty had a table in the back corner full of odd looking mechanical devices.
“What does this do?” Jim asked, picking up one the shape of a banana. “Oh it… vibrates…” Jim gently put down what he could only assume was a sex toy.
“Surely a rake like yourself has seen this sort of thing before, captain!” Scotty laughed.
“It comes highly recommended,” Uhura said with a sly smile. “From men, women, Orions… Vulcans…” Jim flushed, wondering if she had used such a device on Spock before, and if he had liked it, and if she was really so cruel as to flaunt it in front of everyone. Uhura was many things, but Jim had never known her to be cruel.
“Well then,” Jim said awkwardly, “enjoy the event!” And he wandered off to look at Sulu’s collections.
Spock was there, examining the plants. “Remarkable,” Jim heard him say as he walked up, “you grew these in your quarters?”
“Scotty provided me with some equipment,” Sulu said, pushing a purple flower to Spock. “You’ll like this one. It’s only found on Jani II but I got it to bloom!”
“Remarkable…” Spock repeated, his eyes moving from the plant to Jim.
“It’s a lovely specimen," Jim offered, knowing nothing of plants. “I like the color.”
“Historically the people of Jani II used the petals to create a special kind of dye. See, it has these unique properties…” Jim half listened to Sulu, but most of his attention was on Spock. He looked through the plants, stroking them with his long fingers, and then moved to the weaponry. He looked from an antique pistol to Jim and raised his eyebrow. Jim gave a half shrug—technically Sulu wasn’t breaking any regulations by keeping these in his quarters. Jim didn’t like it—he would prefer his helmsman to stick to plants—but what could he do?
“They’re all perfectly safe,” Sulu said, interrupting his own monologue. “The weapons, I mean. See?” He held up a sword and slashed his palm with it. McCoy, with instincts honed by years of practicing medicine, was hovering nearby and shouted when he saw it. Sulu held up his uncut hand and grinned. “I doubt you could cut butter with any of these,” he said.
Jim and Spock drifted to the next table while McCoy loudly lectured Sulu about all of the things that could have gone wrong with his display.
“Another success,” Jim said to break the silence between them. “We’ll have to get together again soon and plan the next event.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now Spock, how many times do I need to tell you, it’s Jim. Off duty, on duty… I’m just Jim.” Jim looked up at his friend, and saw his eyes soften as he looked back.
“Yes, Jim.”
Jim tried his best to steer Spock away from Scotty’s table of devices. He kept Spock’s back towards that table and redirected him again and again. At some point in the evening they got separated, and the next time Jim spotted him he was talking to Scotty with a wiggly purple thing in his hands and a bemused expression on his face. Uhura caught Jim’s eye and winked and he wondered if perhaps he had been reading all of this wrong from the start. People had open relationships all the time. People had friends with benefits. Hell, he himself had had plenty of those. Maybe Spock and Uhura and Scotty had some kind of arrangement… he noticed Uhura watching him still, and he flushed a deep red.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Jim, this little craft fair of yours sure has been rotten for my blood pressure.” McCoy slid up beside him, then did a double take at his face. “And it looks like yours too.” He followed Jim’s gaze to where Spock stood on the other side of the room, then gently took his arm and pulled him away. “It’s not your business until you make it your business, Jim.”
“According to you I’ve been as obvious as a fart on a turbolift, so…”
McCoy looked like he wanted to bang his head on the wall. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and muttered “this isn’t your responsibility, Leonard. The fools will either figure it out or they won’t.” McCoy then clapped Jim on the back and walked away without another word, leaving Jim confused in his wake.
Instead of their next chess night, Spock suggested they prescreen an old movie in preparation for a ship wide movie night. Jim brought popcorn and laughed at the face Spock made when the taste hit his tongue.
“It’s different, isn’t it? When I was a kid we would put these awful flavored powders on it. But I like it better with just the salt and butter.”
“It is an intriguing combination.” Spock popped another kernel into his mouth and hummed. “I am unsure if it is, as you would say, ‘for me.’”
Jim laughed, “that’s fine! You don’t have to like everything. But I think the crew would get a kick out of it. There wasn’t any programmed into the replicator and this is from an old fashioned bag that could be heated in a home cooking device. I was wondering if you might be willing to try to program something like it?”
“Oh!” Spock’s eyes grew sharp and he tasted the popcorn again. “Yes, it should be quite simple. Although…” Spok trailed off, his eyes on Jim.
“Although?” Jim prompted.
“Your insights would be very beneficial,” Spock said, leaning close. “I would love to observe you eating the popcorn, and hear your observations of it.”
“If you think it would help,” Jim said, smiling. He loved when Spock turned his analytical eye on him. He loved when Spock looked at him, observed him, as if he was the center of the universe. He knew it was nothing but scientific interest, but as Spock stared at him and listened to him prattle on about the texture and taste and sensation of popcorn on his tongue, Jim could pretend it was more. He could pretend that Spock saw him as more than his captain.
As they watched the movie, Spock sat close to him, and Jim breathed in his scent. Slightly citrusy, with a hint of the incense he liked to use clinging to his clothes and hair. Jim could feel his heat beside him on the couch, and he longed to slide just a little closer. He wanted to sink into Spock and get all wrapped up in him—mind, body, all of it. He ignored the movie in favor of that little fantasy, until Spock cleared his throat.
“McCoy said you were allowing Mr. Scott to continue distributing personal massage devices to the crew as he saw fit. I think that was a wise choice.”
Jim nearly choked on nothing in shock. “You do?” He turned to look at Spock and found him much closer than he expected.
“Yes. As we were taught in the academy, space can be a very isolating place, particularly for humans. It is good for people to have an outlet. Not everyone on board has a partner to care for them in that manner.”
“Yes, I was thinking along the same lines.” Jim swallowed hard around a lump in his throat. Should he take the chance at ruining everything? McCoy thought it would be best, but Jim still didn’t see how it was worth the risk. They were the best command team in the fleet, he couldn’t throw it all away on a whim.
“I believe it has been a great deal of time since you yourself have had a partner aboard.” Spock said, his voice low and rumbly. “But I believe you did not accept the device Mr. Scott gave you.”
“That didn’t seem appropriate for a starship captain. There are boundaries, you know, between the captain and the crew. It wouldn’t be professional, or fitting. I’m the captain.” Jim knew he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and maybe he was. He had grown accustomed quickly to not noticing anything romantic or sexual about those who served underneath him. No matter how badly Janice Rand or any of the other yeoman wanted it, he would never step a foot out of line with them. But, with Spock… he realized with a drop that he really would risk it all, his whole career, if he knew Spock reciprocated.
The rest of the evening was spent in silence as they watched the movie. Spock moved further away from him on the couch, and they parted with an awkward mix of ta’al and handshake. Jim watched Spock make his way down the corridor to his own doorway, and he realized that he had to find a way to rid himself of these feelings, or of Spock. The idea of it was like the idea of cutting his heart from his chest, but he couldn’t be a good captain like this. He couldn’t be a good friend. Spock deserved better than his superior lusting after him.
Jim went to his cold bed, alone, and had a very restless night of sleep.
Jim resolved to remain completely professional with Spock, and he did. They were friendly, and they continued their project to get the crew socializing beyond their screens, but they didn’t meet in their private quarters. They didn’t meet each other's eyes. They were practically strangers despite spending hours and hours together every day, and it was breaking Jim’s heart.
Spock was playing the most infuriating game of chess that Jim had ever seen. Typically his moves made sense, far more sense than Jim’s own. He plotted everything out in a logical march towards winning and more often than not, he did beat Jim.
But tonight, Spock seemed to have taken a page out of Jim’s book and was playing erratically. At one point he knocked Jim’s king over in a submissive draw, his eyes never leaving Jim’s as he said “check” in his deep voice.
Jim couldn’t help himself. He had been keeping it all bottled up too long.
He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep pretending he was fine just being friends and commanders together, when what he wanted was everything. It was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but maybe it would at least clear the air between them. Maybe it would make him finally settle down and break his crush into a million pieces.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said before he could talk himself out of it. “You’re driving me to insanity Spock. What are you doing? Why are you playing like this? Is it some kind of game to you?” Spock raised an eyebrow and Jim stood up, feeling like there was too much energy inside of him to stay still. “I know this is literally a game. I know that! I mean how you act towards me! You’re hot then cold then indifferent and goddamnit, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep looking into everything and wondering if you have feelings for me or if I’m just deluding myself. Spock?” Spock had stood up as well, and Jim had to look up to meet his eyes. Spock’s hands were crossed behind his back, and Jim breathed deeply as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.
“We have both been very foolish,” Spock said, and then he was kissing Jim. His arms were around him, pushing him gently back into the couch he had been sitting on. Jim grasped at Spock’s clothes while making what was probably a very embarrassing sound. “Am I hurting you? Do you need me to stop?”
“No, no. I want—“ Jim interrupted himself by pulling Spock down further onto him and kissing him deeply. He didn’t have the words for the enormity of what he wanted, but his body knew what to do.
They kissed, and grew close enough that there was no longer any room for misunderstanding between them.
Outside of closed doors, very little changed. Spock was the very definition of professional, and Jim was careful not to show any favoritism towards him. They didn’t tell anyone, but it seemed their closest friends recognized that something had happened between them almost immediately.
“I kept telling him you were a goddamn idiot and he’d have to take matters into his own hands,” McCoy said with a smug grin. “I’m glad he finally listened to me!”
“I can hear you, and I did not,” Spock said primly from across the room. “Jim told me his feelings and I found it prudent to act.”
“I don’t believe that for a second!” McCoy laughed and Jim scowled. “Jim is only confident like that with women. With men he’s always second guessing himself.” Jim grumbled, but his old friend was right, and there was little he could do to defend himself, so he let it stop.
Later, Scotty slipped a bag into his hand and when he opened it, it contained multiple “massage devices” and lubricant. “The missus thought you two would like these,” he said with a sly smile.
“The missus! Was I not invited to the wedding?”
“An expression,” Scotty waved his concern away. “You’ll be invited.”
Later, when he showed the bag to Spock, he confessed his earlier jealousy. “Did you and Uhura ever hook up?” He asked. “I was certain you were pining for her after you played me that song you wrote for her on your lyre.”
“Wrote for her?” Spock’s eyebrows were fully under his hair. “Jim, I wrote that song about you.”
“Me!” Jim launched himself into Spock’s arms, grateful they were alone in his room. “I really was an idiot.”
“Yes,” Spock agreed, then kissed him until he could hardly breathe.
McCoy gave his report to the senior staff just as he always did, then put his PADDs on the ready room table in front of him. “And unofficially, you’ll be glad to hear that your little experiment has paid off in spades. The crew is happier than they’ve ever been!”
“I think the captain might be too,” Uhura said, hiding a smile behind her hand. “And the first officer.”
“Well something has put a little pep in everyone’s step and I for one ain’t complaining about it!”
“I wonder which activity caused the greatest growth for crew satisfaction?” Spock wondered aloud, “perhaps we ought to use the data to plan a calendar of events.”
Around them, the senior staff talked. Jim nudged Spock to get his attention. “I know which activity caused me the greatest growth in satisfaction," he said with a wink.
“And which one is that, Captain?” Spock said with the perfectly blank expression that Jim knew meant he was teasing.
“Well, I certainly won't be sharing that with the crew. They can find their own amusements, this one belongs to me.”
“Yes,” Spock said, his lips lifting into what could almost be called a smile. “He does.”