55. | the color of our planet

Dec 03, 2009 15:00

55.

the color of our planet
from far, far away
kirk/spock (3090 words)

i'm still of the opinion that if it's lowercase, it doesn't count. THUS. i have not written real star trek fanfiction yet, because this is just hopeless pining and experimenting with writing kirk, because i love him sfm. i wrote the first half of this (up to kirk being like SCREW UHURA) like months ago and then today, sat down and finished it in less than an hour? i have no idea.

james kirk isn't a total slut. he's not, no matter what kind of vibes he gives off or what assumptions everyone in the fucking galaxy seems able to make. so maybe he's had a few flings here and there -- that stopped when he became captain of the enterprise. you don't gain people's respect by banging all the pretty girls (or boys) available, and kirk figures that it would get awkward to be stuck on a ship with someone who you had no intention of starting a relationship with.

but okay, the point is that he's not a slut and he hasn't had sex in about four months. well, except with himself. but he doesn't count that. ever. and it has to be the fact that he hasn't gotten any in that long period of time that he's dreaming about spock.

he tries to rationalize it, the way any sane person having wet dreams about their first officers would. spock is exotic and new and, let's face it, hot. the dark curve of his brow, the tense, rigid way he stands, the way his eyes narrow imperceptibly when he's confronted with a problem (most of the time the problem is kirk), kirk notices these things and commits them to memory and then his brain makes it all uncontrollably hot and it spills out into his dreams.

and, one memorable shift on the bridge, a daydream. kirk is never going to stare out at the streaks of stars during warp absently ever again, because apparently he starts muttering stuff under his breath about what turns him on when he's just idly thinking. he doesn't think he's ever going to live down the horrified look chekov had given him while sulu smirked at his station. thank god spock had been in engineering trying to help scotty work on -- something, kirk doesn't remember.

it's perfectly normal to have inappropriate thoughts about someone you spend several hours a day with, someone with unnaturally good looks and a fucking insane amount of intelligence, someone you could trust and talk to and turn to without a second thought. kirk isn't fucking braindead just because he's captain, okay, he notices this kind of stuff. as long as it doesn't mess with his relationship with spock, as long as spock never becomes aware of it (god knows spock would probably try to rationalize it out himself and would offer kirk pie charts on his testosterone levels or last sexual intercourse or whateverthefuck he could find, jesus) it's fine.

kirk will just have to keep waking up to dreams of spock bent between his legs, brows furrowed as he contemplates kirk's cock before leaning down and licking it -- kirk has to change his sheets almost every night now, and it fucking sucks. but whatever, it's okay, he's just going a little stir-crazy. maybe next time on leave he'll sleep with a whole goddamn strip club just to keep his libido down, but right now he's got another five months before he can call for another one, so until then, he is fine.

kirk tries to remember that, tries when spock leans over the back of his chair to murmur in his ear, "captain, i believe that is the planet you are talking about," reaching over and pointing at his padd, and kirk forgets how to breathe. he jerks his head in a nod and spock straightens and heads back to his station, and kirk eases his breath out in a long, stretched-out, fuck.

he's maybe not so fine.

but! he's james tiberius kirk, youngest fucking captain in starfleet history! he's not gonna let a case of blue balls screw him over. if he can save earth and stop a time-traveling romulan ship bent on destroying pretty much everything in its path, he can control his own urges.

he briefly considers hooking up with one of the nurses because there are some pretty hot ones and if he only does it once, that wouldn't be too bad, right? everyone needs someone, or something like that. but looking at them while he sits idly on a biobed and listens to bones rant, he just can't imagine it. he doesn't see himself taking the time to try to get one of them into bed (even if he wouldn't take long at all) and that, right there, should've been his first sign.

james kirk is not about noticing signs, though. stuff needs to be pointed out to him.

so he just goes about his day as if nothing is different -- maybe he watches spock a little bit more than he should, and maybe he stands a little closer than is really necessary, but whatever. camaraderie is essential in a first officer and captain's relationship. uhura can take her pointed looks and stuff them; just because she and spock broke it off three months ago doesn't mean she can assume whatever shit she wants to about her captain.

not that he thinks she's really assuming anything, because there's nothing to assume at all.

(his dreams are getting more and more frequent and he hasn't jerked off this much since he was like thirteen and just discovering his dick, jesus christ, whoever's in charge of laundry has to wonder what the fuck kind of action their captain is getting that he sends come-soaked sheets through the chutes almost every night).

this goes on for another month or so, and kirk is just beginning to reach the end of his tether. he's going insane, he has to be, because almost all he can think about anymore is spock, seeing spock, talking to spock, protecting spock (he hadn't ever really want to know what a vulcan's blood looked like, but too often he saw it, and it sometimes felt like he was the one bleeding, and--) dreaming of spock.

kirk does what one does when they find themselves becoming obsessed with their first officers -- he goes to drink himself into oblivion with bones.

"wondered when this would happen," mccoy grunts, pouring another shot of andorian ale for kirk, who has it to his mouth almost before bones can finish pouring. "been making me sick, watching you." he swigs straight from the bottle, and kirk wants to protest, but somehow he wants to point out that bones' sentences are grammatically incorrect more. it freaks him out a little, because the voice in his head telling him this is spock, fucking fuck.

"what're you talking about?" kirk settles on, making gimme hands at the bottle until bones pours again.

"don't make me say it, jim," mccoy pleads. "i already try to forget it's happening at all, i don't want it out in the open--"

"what?" kirk asks again, sobering a little because he's seriously perplexed, feeling something prickling in the back of his mind that makes his stomach flip over. it doesn't go well with the alcohol, but he takes another drink because he came here to drink himself stupid, and that's what he's going to do.

"jim," mccoy says, and he almost sounds sympathetic (kirk must be really fucking drunk, and he wonders if he actually should stop, because the look in bones' eyes is almost like pity--) "you're in love with that pointy-eared bastard."

kirk chokes on air, feeling the burn of alcohol sit low in his throat, and his eyes are stinging but he still manages to get out, "what the fuck are you on--"

"oh don't deny it," mccoy snaps, tugging the bottle away from kirk and stoppering it ("fuck," kirk mutters) grumpily, "i don't like admitting it myself. i didn't even think it was possible, you feeling actual romantic feelings for someone without getting into their pants -- you haven't, have you?" mccoy asks sharply, and kirk is too stunned to do anything but shake his head and keep his wet dreams to himself. "well then. but seriously jim, take a moment to look at yourself. you're so damn infatuated it's ridiculous."

kirk squeezes his eyes closed and tentatively opens his mind to the possibility (there's no way, he can't be, that's insane and also, stupid because spock is spock and he'll never--) and his stomach drops as he realizes that maybe, maybe the good doctor has a point.

fuck.

kirk hates everything.

he's not fully convinced (see: trying to deny it forfuckingever) so he tries to see for himself just how much of this is really enjoying spending time with spock and how much is -- is liking spock. (he doesn't see how it's possible to be in love and not know it, it shouldn't work that way, you should get to know what's happening with your own goddamn heart, and part of him wants to think that bones is just fucking seeing things, but then spock will tilt his head under the fluorescent lighting and blink in that singularly spock way, and kirk's heart decides to skip a few beats and he hates everything.)

he goes a few days acting normally but watching spock closely, trying to figure out his own feelings. over the next three days, he categorizes:

i. spock's quirked mouth makes his stomach go warm and his mouth twitch up without his permission.

ii. the curve of spock's ear does things to his insides that no ear should ever do.

iii. his formal, precise way of speaking somehow slithers into kirk's sex drive and he has to fight himself to keep from going hard every time spock blithely says, "captain, there's a reading indicating that this planet's atmosphere is deadly and will drive the composition of skin cells to deteriorate." he's talking about fucking acidic air melting people's skin off, it should not be hot.

iv. the measured way spock will sometimes look back at him, as if he is searching for something in kirk, sends his stomach into cartwheels.

and he's still singing the not-in-love song, but it's harder to keep it up. so instead, he pulls back. and by pulls back, he means comes to a fucking halt and reverses, because clearly he's just spending too much time with spock and it's getting to his head. kirk has always had a need for attention, the need for someone to notice him, and it makes sense to want spock's the most because spock never condescends to notice other people, and kirk loves a challenge. so this is just him and his own fucked up self, and there's no reason to make this weird between him and spock, so he stops looking. he stops searching for spock after shifts, and he stops eating with him. he still nods at him, smiles at him, keeps his tone light whenever they interact, but he keeps at least three feet between them and won't meet his eyes.

(he hates it. he misses him, misses their chess games and arguments about literature and history and math, misses making faces at him while he calmly sips his plomeek soup and misses sitting quietly with him on the observation deck as they watch the stars pass them by. but the thing is, it's either this or heartbreak, which kirk does not want to deal with. because, because spock is never going to like him back that way. it took months for him to get him to like him at all, and this isn't friendship, this is way fucking more, and he can't deal with it. the only way to keep this from being a no-win situation is to change the programming, which means staying away from spock.)

he knows spock knows something is up, because spock notices when the temperature on the bridge dips by a single degree. spock looks at him more, eyes steady and dark and contemplative, and he knows spock is wondering what's caused this change in his captain. he's not going to address it, though, and that means spock probably won't either.

as it turns out, spock is actually a little bit more human than he thought (or kirk is rubbing off on him, which, fuck, rubbing off, he needs to get laid).

the door to his quarters chime at about 2230, and he's just about to get ready for bed (he has so much more time to fill these days, and yeoman rand at least appreciates the lengths he's going to -- all of his paperwork has been finished in record time because he's not spending all of his time with spock).

"come in," he calls, thinking it's probably bones coming to yell at him for being a dumbass (something that had occurred with increasing frequency since he'd realized how much of an idiot he was. "dammit jim," bones had growled, "i wouldn't have said anything if i thought you would be this goddamn stupid about it.")

as luck would have it, it's spock. kirk's life is a fucked up movie.

"captain," spock says, inclining his head slightly, hands behind his back. kirk feels helpless for a moment, caught in being alone with him for the first time in weeks, taking in everything about him all at once -- and it's like he'd never spent time distancing himself. everything is as strong as it ever was, and his heart starts beating heavily in his chest. fuck.

"jim, spock," he corrects out of habit, and then inwardly curses as spock's eyebrow raises. that always means that he's about to get lectured.

"forgive me," spock says, "i was given to understand that your lack of personal interaction with me recently has meant that you wished a professional relationship alone." his eyes are dark and vaguely inquisitive, but there's something in there that's irritated. kirk swallows.

"no," he says finally, "that's not what i want."

"then perhaps, jim, you could enlighten me. have i done something to offend you in any way?" spock takes a step closer to him and kirk takes an automatic one back. spock's eyes widen ever-so-slightly and kirk knows he's given something away, but he has no idea what.

"you haven't done anything, spock," kirk mutters, dropping his gaze. "i'm just--"

"--distancing yourself from my person in an attempt to distance yourself emotionally as well?"

kirk's head snaps up and he looks at spock for a moment. "you talked to bones," he accuses, and spock tilts his head in acquiescence.

"it was logical to speak to the doctor first as you are closest to him. also, he sought me out because he claimed you suffered from a 'terminally dangerous case of idiocy.'" kirk believes that if vulcans were given to such things, spock would've made air quotes.

"yeah, well, bones doesn't know a fucking thing," kirk growls, feeling himself snap. he's restless, energy bustling under his skin, and he wants to do a hundred things at once. at the forefront of this is tackling spock to the ground and writhing against him under they both come undone and then dragging him to the bed for another two or three go rounds, and so he does nothing at all. he feels like he's vibrating in space, though, and his annoyance is rising. why can't something ever just go his way for once?

"on the contrary, i believe doctor mccoy knows a plethora--"

"oh, shut the fuck up, spock." kirk is in no mood to play the "i'm a vulcan, your quaint human sayings are illogical" game.

"jim, i believe you are missing the point of my seeking you out. i am opposed to your lack of interaction with myself."

makes sense. spock's a popular guy, but he's hardly making friends with everyone. kirk and uhura are probably the closest people with him on the ship, and even if he spouts his vulcan crap all the time about not needing emotional connections, kirk knows he enjoys his time spent with people. having one of the humans closest to him cut out of his life without warning probably fucked over his entire world view or something.

"sorry," he says. "i told you, it's just me being my weird, illogical, human self. i can't really--"

"jim."

something in his voice makes kirk stop -- all of him comes to a standstill, and his world settles back into this one moment. his atoms fall silent and everything in him centers on spock, and he remembers that spock is his everything, spock is the only person in the universe who he's ever felt this way about. his eyes are intent on kirk's, and when he moves forward, kirk doesn't move back because he's frozen in place, can't even make his lungs move to draw in air. he's going to die this way, he thinks, he's going to die--

and spock leans in and presses his mouth to kirk's once, softly. it's not even a kiss really, just their lips meeting and then pulling back. spock leans back, mouth twitching a little. "jim, i have missed you. please cease behaving as if you are the only one who knows there is something between us."

kirk is horrified that he feels like he could burst into tears. fuck, he's not going to, but everything in him goes hot all at once and he wants to sink to the ground and scream, wants to shout you fucking liked me back and you let me freak the fuck out for weeks? and he wants to announce to the whole goddamn ship that spock just kissed him and he wants to pull spock close and show him a real kiss. he feels himself fall into place, as if anything that was ever wrong with him is right now, and he realizes that this, this is serious. this is for real, and for once, he's not afraid of that.

"you were always too smart for your own good," he manages finally, reaching up to touch spock's jaw with one hand, and the way he turns his head into it makes kirk's throat go dry. he's already imagining sucking bruises into that pale skin, and spock's eyes close as if he can tell what he's thinking (and kirk's pulse jumps when he realizes he fucking can, spock's a touch telepath, fuck).

"a trait i believe you enjoy," spock returns, and hey, kirk can't argue with the truth. but he's not going to let spock know that, and instead pulls him in and kisses him the proper way, so that they're both out of breath and listing towards the bed, hands smoothing up and down bodies as their mouths dip and slide together.

when they tumble into bed together, it's like coming home.
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