Trek Fic: Kirk Gives Spock Dating Advice (and it totally works out for him), 2/2
He’d been at the party for two hours, and he still wasn’t having any fun. After telling the bartender not to serve himself or Jim any more drinks, Bones had figured that duty was done and had gone chasing after Yeoman Barrows. Predictably, the two had vanished from the party, and Jim was once again left alone at the bar, trying to beat his previous beer’s record at slowest consumption, as he’d known he’d end up doing. And it was just as entertaining as he’d thought it’d be.
Uhura was off singing carols with the Enterprise’s informal choral group, while Scotty tried to show off his new skill at the piano, since his girlfriend had refused to be accompanied by bagpipes. And unfortunately, Scotty really wasn’t any good, which meant that Ensign Palmer, who was acting as the party DJ, had turned the background music up to headache inducing levels. He really wished he could just leave, but he had promised himself to stay until midnight, at which point he’d leave and let the real festivities begin. He’d heard rumours of a group trying to break the record for most participants on a starship orgy. He did not want to stick around for that clusterfuck.
So, he could barely hear Uhura’s lovely voice, there were occasional bursts of discordant keyboarding, and the bass was making his head pound despite the fact that he had had almost nothing to drink. On top of that, Sulu had ditched him to hang around the buffet table, which Jim wasn’t allowed near since Bones had put him on a diet. Even Chekov wasn’t trying to get into his pants. He was alone.
“Jim.” No, no he wasn’t. Kirk cursed the universe and its infinite cruelty, since there was no way any benevolent existence would deliver all of his agony in the form of Spock sneaking up behind him and the situation inevitably degenerating. He mouthed all of the swear words he could think of into his beer and turned around. Fuck.
“Spock. Hello. Hi. Nice to see you. You look nice. Goodbye.”
“We have not yet finished our conversation.” And goddamn, but puzzled Spock was far too adorable to resist. Kirk heaved a sigh and gave Spock the most insincere smile his face had ever formed.
“Well then, Mr. Spock, fire away.” It was to Kirk’s utmost surprise that Spock did not comment on the idiom. He instead reached into his pocket, put something that looked suspiciously round and chocolate-coloured into his mouth, and said “You have been avoiding me for 43.344 days.”
“Me? I’ve been avoiding you?” Okay, he was not expecting that one. And was it just him, or were Spock’s pupils super blown? It had to be the lighting. Or wishful thinking. Either one.
“Yes. I have been attempting to talk to you for quite some time, but you have been most efficacious in your exits from rooms I have just entered. It is fortunate that this evening you have chosen to remain stationary, at this bar.”
“Well, no offence, Spock, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, since you’re the one who avoided me.” Just where was Spock getting off on this ‘avoiding’ thing? Kirk had tried several times the week after the incident to get Spock to play just one game of chess with him, and he’d been shut down every time.
“Indeed; I did do so, for 7.119 days. However-” At this point, Spock slumped-no, actually slumped-himself onto the stool next to Kirk’s. “However, at the end of this interval, I had finished processing your… admission, and was ready to discuss its implications.”
“I didn’t really think there was much to discuss. I want you; you obviously don’t want me. That’s pretty damn straightforward.”
“But in fact it is not-”
“Oh, but in fact it is.”
“Is not.”
“Is.” Spock paused to reach into the pocket of his jacket and grabbed a few more of what Kirk now knew to be some kind of chocolate, looked around to make sure no one was watching (completely missing the fact that Kirk was staring at him) and popped them into his mouth.
“Is not.” he repeated, and ate another chocolate.
“Is.”
“Is not.” More chocolate.
“Is.”
“Is not.”
“What are you, four? And Bones would kill you if he saw you shoving those truffles down your throat. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” Spock paused mid-handful and looked up at Kirk with the most curious expression. Kirk peered a little closer. It wasn’t the lighting; Spock’s pupils were definitely dilated. And if Jim didn’t know better, he’d say that Spock was looking a little off-balance, too.
“I am not four years old.” Spock looked at him as though that statement had won him an impressive argument. And when Kirk raised his eyebrows at him, he gave a quick, jerky nod in affirmation, which prompted Kirk to ask “Spock, you’re not drunk, are you?”
“I am not intoxicated. If you wish to ascertain my level of sobriety, you may ask me about politics.”
“Fine. Is Admiral Komack an asshole?” Spock appeared to ponder this for a few seconds, before grabbing Jim’s chin, rather tightly, and decreasing the distance between them to a mere 30.998 centimetres, or so Spock would have calculated, had he been sober, which, as Jim was definitely suspecting, he was not.
“Yes. Yes, he is, if by asshole you mean someone arrogant, rude, obnoxious, or a total dickhead, as opposed to the slang term for one’s anus.” Kirk blinked. Oh, dear. “Was my definition of asshole incorrect? I have been assured by crewmembers that the Urban Dictionary database is the best source for vernacular terms.”
Kirk continued to blink at Spock, which was interpreted by Spock as some sort of odd Earth custom, because he began to mirror his blinking back at him, which was super weird and definitely not something his First Officer was supposed to do.
“Spock, you are drunk. I am sorry. If you want, we can go down to Sickbay and get you a hypo-”
“I do not want a hypo, since I am not drunk. You may ask me more questions about politics, if you wish.”
“No, I think that’s enough for now. And actually, come to think of it, Vulcans don’t get drunk off of ethanol.”
“Correct. Vulcans, however, can be affected similarly by refined sugars.”
“So those truffles you’ve been eating…”
“Have obviously had no effect on me. There is a certain threshold that needs to be reached in order for intoxication to occur.”
“Right. You’re not drunk. And Bob’s my uncle.”
“This is true, Jim. You have mentioned him several times in relation to your mother. Why would you wish to repeat this fact now?”
Kirk just groaned softly, which didn’t turn out to be such a good idea, since Spock just leaned in a little closer and, well, looked at him. It was weird, and didn’t really help with the whole Kirk wanting to have sex with him thing, since at this distance, his face looked especially kissable.
“Jim, you have successfully changed the subject. I would like to return to the beginning of our discussion. You have not yet heard what I would like to say.” Jim sighed. Fine; if they had to have the stupid discussion so they could get back to being super bros, then that was what they had to do. He just really did not want to do that at the moment, since he was definitely not drunk enough.
“Okay, so, apparently I was avoiding you for 43.355 days or whatever it was-”
“43.344 days.”
“Yeah, whatever. And you wanted to say something to me. Well, you’ve cornered me. You can say it.” Kirk waited for a few moments. Spock continued to stare at him, before realizing that it was his turn to talk.
“I love you.” Oh. He wasn’t really expecting that.
Kirk opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and left it there, not caring that in the minutes that passed, his mouth became rather drier than he preferred it to be. Unfortunately, when he looked down at the bottle to avoid the Stare of Inebriated Spock, he noticed that he was out of beer.
“No, you don’t.” Kirk finally said, which seemed to sum everything up quite nicely. Or rather, it didn’t, which also suited him fine, since Spock was obviously out of his mind and didn’t need to hear the awful sputtering noises Kirk had initially wanted to make.
“Yes, I do.” This was accompanied by another drunken Spock nod, which was, of course, adorable. Kirk wanted to plant his face into the bar.
“No, you don’t.” Kirk shook his head, thinking that maybe if his words were accompanied by gestures, Spock would get the message, and remember that he totally didn’t love him. Why this was his goal, he wasn’t entirely sure, since it seemed counterproductive to his true aims. Whatever. Spock totally didn’t love him.
“Yes, I do.” And the head shaking didn’t appear to have worked.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Jesus, are we back to this again? Spock, if you actually, you know,” Kirk looked around, saw that no one was paying attention to them, and continued in a whisper, “Loved me, then why the hell did you freeze up tighter than an Aldebaran shellmouth when I told you I was in love with you?”
“Not only was I unprepared for the declaration, Jim, but I was not aware at the time that I had feelings of the same nature. Furthermore, you spent the remainder of the night, as the doctor would put it, ‘sucking face’ with Lieutenant Sulu. At first glance, the two events seemed to contradict each other.” Oh. No wonder Sulu hadn’t talked to him much the next day and blushed every time he saw him. Huh.
“Upon further examination of our relationship, I was forced to conclude that you had in fact been sincere in your assertions. After determining that the ill feelings I had towards Lieutenant Sulu after the party were rooted in jealousy, I also concluded that because of our mutual regard, a relationship of a romantic nature would be logical. It was at this point that you began avoiding me.”
“Right.” So, Kirk kind of screwed that one up. But, to be completely fair, he’d never had an emotional relationship with a Vulcan before, so it was completely expected that he’d do something wrong, right? Also, his coping mechanism for heartbreak consisted mostly of avoidance and McCoy’s best bourbon, so that probably hadn’t helped so much, either. “Okay. So, um… basically we totally suck at communicating with each other and we’ve wasted all of this time, and we could have been screwing like rabbits for the past… month and a bit?”
“Affirmative.”
“Oh. Well, that’s settled, then.” He looked around, with what Chekov liked to call ‘shifty eyes’, and took another breath. So, this party sucking ass? Totally didn’t happen. He liked it when things turned out better than expected. It made him have a little more faith in the universe.
“Yes.” On any other occasion, in any location having something resembling privacy, Kirk would have definitely appreciated Spock’s next move, but since they were prone to observation by some member of the crew at any given moment, he was forced to stop Spock from leaning in and…. well, from what he could tell, it looked like Spock was going in for a lot more than a friendly kiss. He liked to keep in PG around the kids.
However, he did not expect Spock to pout when his cunning plan to shove his tongue down Kirk’s throat was thwarted. Okay, Spock intoxicated was totally dangerous to his health. And damn, come to think of it, he could openly appreciate him without having to worry about Spock wondering what all of the drooling was for. Awesome.
“I’d love to, Spock, but unless you want to become the talk of the ship tomorrow, I’d suggest that we, uh, move this to a more private location.”
“I agree. Perhaps my quarters? I have an ample supply of lubricant in my bedside table.” And oh, shit, the pretty Lieutenant from Communications totally just heard that. He needed to get a muzzle for Spock when he was like this, because his voice was currently a few decibels too high, even over the awful music that was still playing in the background.
“Spock, if you keep talking like that, number one, we’re so going to be top gossip tomorrow, but I’m also at risk of throwing you on the floor and having my way with you here, so you’d definitely better stop because that would really give the gamma shift something to talk about.”
“I would not be adverse to this.”
“But sober Spock would be. Not that you’re drunk,” he added quickly, after seeing that Spock was about to protest. “You’re just a little, uh, affected.”
“I may concur. I believe the chocolate has had the effect of raising my body temperature significantly. In addition, I find myself unable to look away from the bulge in your trousers.”
Kirk blushed. He’d really hoped that Spock hadn’t noticed that, but there was nothing to be done now. “Okay, we’re definitely getting you out of here. Maybe we’ll hold off on the sex until you’re in your right mind, too.”
“I am choosing to take this statement to mean that you wish for our first time to be ‘special’ and not that you are currently finding me unpleasant.”
“No, no, definitely not. How about we go to bed? Not to bed, I mean, like go to sleep, together, not sleeping together in that sense, but-”
“Yes.” Spock got up before Kirk could figure out that the conversation had ended, and yanked him out of his seat, somehow managing to keep both of them from toppling over. He was impressed.
The doorway was almost in sight when Kirk spotted Uhura coming back from the choral group. At least that meant that Scotty was no longer attempting to play the piano.
But he could tell from that evil look in her eyes that the communications expert had figured out something had happened between the two of them. He looked over at the doorway forlornly, knowing that Uhura wouldn’t let them go for at least five minutes.
“Hello, gentlemen. Leaving already?”
“Yes. Jim and I have recently been able to reach certain conclusions that preclude our remaining at the party.” Uhura gave them both a once-over, no doubt noting the decreased distance between the two of them, and said, “I’ll bet you have.”
“Uh, yeah, so we’ll just be going now-”
“Hang on, O Captain, my Captain.” He really wished she’d stop calling him that. “I do believe there is some lovely foliage above you that you seem to have missed. Maybe you should take a look.” Yup. Mistletoe. Great.
“Well, see, we’re in a bit of a hurry and we really don’t have time to mess around, and it would really be unprofessional…”
“I don’t think the Commander agrees with you, Kirk.” No, from the look in Spock’s eyes, he really didn’t. He tugged on the man’s arm, but was forced to re-evaluate his earlier statue theory since he didn’t move a goddamn inch.
“No, I do not.”
And suddenly Spock was on him, around him, nearly in him, with his chest and arms and legs, and oh, Lord, his groin pressed against him, and it had to be the best thing in the universe. Spock had to be the best kisser in the universe, since he hadn’t gone to full erection so quickly in ages and that definitely couldn’t be dealt with here, even though Spock was delicious and rubbing against him-and yes, he did just hear a catcall- oh, never mind, this was too good to stop. So he didn’t.
They eventually made their way over to Spock’s quarters, where they somehow both completely forgot that they weren’t going to have sex. His bedside table did indeed have ample amounts of lubricant, and it was because of this that Kirk did not get any sleep that night, and Bones found grounds to laugh at him the next day.
“My ass hurts.”
“Too much information, Jim. And it’s your own damn fault.” But the grumpy old doctor was smiling, and Jim smiled back at him, and he grabbed Spock’s hands under the table and squeezed. And Spock squeezed back. So much better than any other present he’d gotten that morning.