Kirk looked around his room one last time. He took a deep steadying breath. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating. He scrubbed them dry on the thighs of his jeans - his best jeans, the ones that made his ass look perfect. This was ridiculous. He'd had less nerves facing down Klingons. Not for the first time, he wondered what the hell he was doing tonight.

The candles were lit, the overhead lights dimmed to nearly nothing. Spock didn't like the overhead lights, he knew. Spock rarely used the overheads in his own chambers. The white flourescent was harsh to his Vulcan eyes - he preferred the light of his fire pot, or a warm red lamp he kept on his night stand. Spock's night stand. By Spock's bed. The bed Spock slept in. Kirk tried to reel in his thoughts and quell his burgening erection so that he wouldn't embarrass himself too early in the game. After all, he was trying to seduce Spock, not terrify him. Another breath. Shoulders back. Command stance.

The table was set, not with chess as usual, but with vegetarian lasagna, the best compromise he'd been able to come up with. He'd contemplated trying for Vulcan cuisine, but he wasn't familiar with most of it, and those few items he had tasted hadn't been great, honestly. The last thing he wanted to do was to be picking petulantly at his own dish on a night like tonight. He'd considered maybe a soup, but all he could see in his minds eye was spilling, over and over in every awkwardly conceivable way. He wasn't big on vegetarian food himself, but he liked lasagna, and he'd seen Spock eat the lasagna once. How was it he had seemingly catalogued Spock's eating history? Because he was obsessed with Spock, of course. Wasn't that what this was all about?

No alcohol was present. That was another source of Kirk's nerves. Not only could he use a drink himself, but he hadn't really pulled off a seduction in the past without the stuff. Even at its most innocuous level, the flavour could enhance the meal. But Spock didn't like alcohol. He frequently commented on the illogicality of humans intoxicating themselves with the substance. Spock honoured the mind, and anything that would strip ones faculties was suspect. That also put an end to Kirk's Plan B - Get Spock Drunk On Chocolate. He'd really considered it, probably longer than he should have considered it, and had finally decided it wouldn't be ethical. That is to say, it wouldn't be ethical to try and pull a fast one on Spock for this first seduction. That still left an opening for some potential fun in the future.

Jim knew that Spock, as a Vulcan, could partake of some alcohol with no effects due to his increased metabolic rate, but even so, Spock rarely partook. He had complained about the scent on one occasion, putting the entire matter to rest - permanently putting a stop to all of Kirk's attempts at pressuring his noble friend into some mild rebellion, and putting an end to the idea of him having a small drink before this meeting himself. Which was a shame, because Kirk could really use a drink right about now.

No, instead of drinks there was a pitcher of cool water and two glasses already filled. He was not clear on a lot of Vulcan customs, but the water custom was one he knew for sure. He would greet Spock at the door and hand him the glass and say Come, take rest. Spock was sure to recognize the ritual when those words were intoned. How would he take it? Would he be offended that Kirk was trying to offer this? Suspicious? Would he accept graciously? He really wanted Spock to accept it for what it was - a sort of olive branch.

Jim was not blind. He knew that the ship's crew was primarily human, and he knew that the food was human, the lights, the ambient temperature, the recreational activities provided, and the cultural customs inundating his First Officer at every turn. Yes, Spock had signed up for it the minute he'd joined Starfleet. It was to be expected. But that didn't mean it didn't get to him after a while. Spock would never admit to discomfort of any sort, let alone social alienation, but Jim had always been able to read the signs of stress. He could see Spock flinch when anyone other than himself would clap him on the shoulder in comaraderie. He could see the slight wince during parties when the noise level became too loud for sensitive Vulcan ears. He knew that Spock kept his own quarters about ten degrees warmer than the ship's norm, and having seen Spock undress in the gym, he knew that Spock had a thermal undershirt beneath his science blue.

And so when he would later present Spock with the water and offer rest, he truly hoped that Spock would take the water, sip it as ritual required, and accept rest.

Jim thought about another shower but realized there would be no time. It was not only nerves that made him sweat. At least he was in a t-shirt instead of his uniform. The temperature in his room was turned up ten degrees from ship's norm, just where he knew it would put Spock at ease. And if things moved the way he hoped they would, he wouldn't be too warm for too long. Damnit. Jim wrenched his mind back from the gutter and tried to think of anything else to get himself under control. Just then the door chimed.

"Come."

The door slid open and there stood Spock in all his glory. The tall Vulcan was in uniform as usual, although this was a social call. He stepped forward enough to enter the room and allow the door to shut, but his eyes immediately took in the candlelight, the dinner for two, and Kirk, staring at him. Jim swallowed. At the sight of Spock, at the realisation that the moment had finally come, his mouth felt impossibly dry and the sauve moves of his planned seduction were tumbling from his head. He had to get himself together.

"You asked me to stop by, Captain?" Spock asked warily.

Jim slowly and intentionally lifted one cool glass of water from the table, paced across the room to Spock, and offered it to him. "Come, take rest." He was surprised how calm he sounded, surprised that his hands did not shake. He could not help it though if the look in his eyes was anything short of worshipful.

Whatever wariness Spock had held as he looked around the room and took in the glass of water, that unease melted into warmth as his eyes met Jim's. He took the water from him, and took a sip. Jim grinned up at him as if Christmas had just come early, all of his nerves slipping away. How could he have been nervous before? This was Spock. Spock could never make him feel anything but perfectly at ease.

"Please, sit down, Spock." Jim held out his hand welcomingly and sat himself at the table. "Do you like lasagna?"

Spock seated himself, curious as to where this was leading. "Indeed." His eyes sparkled. "I must admit to some surprise that you would consume a meal without carion as its feature."

Jim grinned at the teasing. "Well, you know what they say... variety is the spice of life. Or maybe it's: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger?"

"In this case it will certainly make you less rotund, if not increasing muscle mass."

"Less rotund?" Kirk snapped back in mock affront. "I'll have you know I'm the epitome of good health!"

"I am not certain Doctor McCoy would agree, if his ritual 'grousing' and hypos are any indication."

"Bones is a sadist. He gets off on my misery." Jim was glad that the quips were coming so fast and free. He helpd himself to his food and saw Spock do the same. It was as if they'd always eaten in his quarters, as if they'd always sat together in intimate candlelight. Spock hadn't asked, hadn't demanded any explanation at all. That's what he loved about him. Jim always felt good enough when around Spock, and that wasn't a feeling he was familiar with at any other point in his life, around any other person. Oh, people might presume he had an overinflated ego, and he certainly knew how to play that card well. He'd always been a charmer - naturally charismatic. But it was all a show. Very few people, perhaps only Bones and Spock, seemed to realize how vulnerable he truly was inside. And only Spock had been able to effortlessly scatter such feelings away.

They ate in companionable silence for some time as Kirk gathered courage. He waited until they'd both finished their light meal to begin.

"I suppose you're wondering what all of this is about."

"The question had certainly crossed my mind."

"It's a celebration, Mr. Spock." Jim smiled, and reached his hand across the table toward Spock's own. He let the backs of his fingers just barely brush the back of Spock's knuckles. It was almost imperceptible, but Spock's breath hitched slightly. Their eyes met. Spock looked guarded, but he did not remove his hand.

"A celebration, Captain?"

"Jim. Just Jim, Spock."

"Jim... I am not aware of any holiday or special occasion on this date."

"Well, perhaps it isn't a holiday yet, but I hope it will become one. In the future, Spock, I believe this will be a very important date, so you'd better mark it down in your calendar."

"Ca - Jim?"

"We're friends, right Spock?"

Spock looked even warier than before. "Yes..." he said carefully. "One could interpret our personal relationship as one of friendship."

"One could. But what about you, Spock? Do you characterize it as friendship?"

"That... is an accurate word to ascribe to it. I do consider you... a friend."

Good. He was nervous, but he hadn't shut down. It gave Jim courage to continue. "Yes. Friends. In fact, you're my most trusted friend." Spock opened his mouth as if to contest that assertion. "I know what you're going to say, Spock, and no Bones isn't my closest friend. He's a close second, but he's not you."

"You have known Doctor McCoy for a longer duration of time than you have known me. Surely he means a greater deal to you than myself." Spock said carefully.

"No." Jim said emphatically. "Bones means a great deal to me, yes, but it isn't only length of time that determins the intensity and value of a relationship. You and I, Spock, have a sort of... of resonance, that goes unmatched."

"Resonance?"

"Yes. That's just what it is. I can't describe it in any other way. You know what I'm thinking even before I think it. You're always there, always when I need you most. You're closer than blood. You mean more. I hope you realize what I am saying to you, Spock." Kirk held his eyes in an intense gaze. He had to take this chance. Spock was the closest to him out of anyone he'd ever known. And they'd always been on the same page before. So why not this? Why couldn't they take this one last step together? Everything he'd just said had reiterated to himself his own conviction in this.

"I'm not certain -"

"I think you have a pretty good idea. But I am certain, Spock." He clutched Spock's hand in his own. "Do you hear me? I'm certain. I'm certain that I want this to be an important day for us. An anniversary, Spock."

"An... anniversary?"

"Our anniversary."

It was all Jim could do to maintain eye contact for a long moment when Spock said nothing. Nothing. What did it mean? For once, he couldn't accurately read his friend. For a second, panic shot through him and his gaze flicked to the table in front of him in worry. He moved to pull his hand back but Spock's grip tightened on him and did not permit retreat. In a low, rough voice, Spock said his name. "Jim." Jim raised his eyes again to meet Spock's own. Sultry. Passionate. Fathomless black pools stared into him. Kirk's gaze flicked to their touching hands. The table might hide his erection but nothing could be hidden from a touch telepath with access to skin.

"I -." Spock swallowed heavily, seemingly at a loss for words. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Whatever form of relationship you are now offering. Yes."

"Just that easily?" His heart was bursting in his chest from love and surely the seams of his pants were bursting with the increasing tightness of desire, but he had to be certain they were on the same page.

"I would give you whatever you would have, Jim."

Jim's heart was rending in two at the sweetness of such a declaration. He felt choked by emotion so thick it swallowed him whole. To see Spock so vulnerable, to know that not only were his feelings reciropcated but that Spock would be willing to settle for anything less than he deserved. "Everything, Spock."

"Jim?"

"Everything." he repeated breathlessly. "I'm offering you myself, if you'll have me, any way you'll have me, for as long as you'll have me."

"It is not your nature -" Spock began a weak protest.

"It is my nature. You are my nature. Just you, Spock. Just you." He wasn't sure which one of them had risen first but there they were. The table between them had become intolerable and then so had the air. It wasn't until he was within the kiss that his brain caught up and realized what he'd managed. These were Spock's lips, pressing against his own. Spock's stubble scratching him. Spock's hands on his ass, pulling him close. Spock's back against his own hands as they scrabbled beneath the two shirts to feel flesh. Spock's flesh. He was euphoric with it and his mind couldn't totally process it. He was certain he'd be living in a dream for the next several days. It was too perfect to believe.

"It is real, Jim." Spock breathed. Jim only moaned, crushing his erection into its mirror in Spock. Spock was hard for him - that only made him more desperate to cum. Spock's echoing groan only made him more determined to hear the sound again. Tongue met tongue as he tried to drink Spock in, taste him, smell him, feel him in every pore of his body. He hadn't known but he'd been starving. His whole life he'd been starving and Spock was soul filling sustenance.

They did an elaborate dance toward the sleeping alcove, to the bed. Boots were kicked off, shirts raised and tossed aside, getting in the way just long enough for them to catch their breath before resuming their kiss. Somehow pants, socks, underwear were all shed as hands roamed over every inch of flesh they could reach. It was Spock who reached first - so much for Jim's seduction. When he felt those strong, slender fingers grasp his cock he felt his knees nearly buckle at the sweet sensation of it. "Oh God, Spock, you have no idea how much I've wanted you. So long... so long I've wanted you. I've watched you, I've fantasized, I've dreamed about you. Is that fucked up?" he worried desperately.

"I cannot condemn you for that which I am also responsible." Spock replied huskily, and as he translated the Spock-ese he felt another flush of overwhelming desire. Spock had fantasized about him. Dear God.

Jim sprawled himself out on the bed and Spock joined him. For a time they lay facing one another, a jumble of roaming arms and twined legs as they continued to kiss, drinking one another in. Jim couldn't help but let his hungry kisses wander. Over Spock's jaw, down his neck, up to the tip of one pointed ear that he let himself gently nip. Spock's gasp and sudden tightening of a hand on his hip thrilled him. Emboldened, he worked his way down Spock's body, pressing the Vulcan onto his back and kissing him reverently on every patch of exposed skin. His chest, where he stroked the wirey patch of hair, lathing a nipple with his tongue as Spock's fingers desperately gripped the sheets. Down to his navel where he dipped his tongue for just a second before sucking on the delicate skin between thigh and groin. Spock thrust his hips desperately upwards as his feet scrabbled for purchase.

"Jim." he gasped. "Please..."

"Please, what?" Jim teased, glancing up to see a very wanton Vulcan look down with desperation.

Jim didn't hesitate with the verdant cock. It was large, yes. It was green, it was alien, it had two ridges where Kirk's only had one, but this did not deter him. It was Spock. And what could he want more than to taste Spock? What could he want more than to give him pleasure? Spock hissed loudly and then made a choked off sound of pleasure as Kirk's lips enveloped the member, his tongue swirling around the head as he eased himself down, one hand holding the shaft while the other pinned down hips that wanted so desperately to thrust up. He hadn't done this before, he wasn't certain whether he was doing it perfectly, but he knew what he would have wanted, and Spock seemed enthusiastic enough. The taste was pleasant, vaguely earthy and unlike his own taste. The size was challenging but not unmanageable as long as he kept his hand there for control. Kirk grinned smugly at Spock's pants and moans. Only his first attempt and already he was living up to his Tomcat status. This would be a great challenge to perfect in the future. But not now. To Spock's agony he released him and knelt beside his lover, stroking himself slowly. Spock looked at him with desperation and pure lust in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." Kirk whispered, delighted to see the green flush highlight Spock's perfect ears and high cheeks.

"Jim..." Spock breathed, incapable of saying more. His eyes gave the rest of the message. More. Anything.

Jim leaned over the edge of the bed to the drawer of his night stand and pulled out a small pot of lubrication. Spock's eyes were glued to it as Jim untwisted the lid, and he saw Spock still in anticipation. Not what you think... Kirk smirked. "Relax." he whispered, and was amazed when Spock did, trusting implicitely. Spock watched mesmorized as Jim brought a lubricated finger behind himself to his own hole. He didn't know for sure what Spock's sexual history was, but he had the impression it was sparse if not nonexistent. But Kirk had always been an adventurous lover. He'd used toys. He'd been certain from the start that this was what he wanted this first time.

"Jim, you need not..." Spock began in reverent tones as he realized what was being offered.

"I want you to." Kirk gazed down pleadingly. "Please."

"I will deny you nothing." Spock pressed Jim's shoulder, pushing him down to his back as Spock rolled on top, kissing him deeply. He took the lube from Jim's hand and coated two fingers, easing them inside and stretching as Jim had done to finish preparing him. Jim marveled at how right it felt. Did Spock know what he was doing, or was he just that intuitive? He gasped as those probing fingers found their target, and moaned aloud as they pressed more firmly.

"God, Spock! Please." His voice broke on the last word. He was bathed in sweat and desperation, feeling as if he'd come any moment if Spock didn't hurry it the hell up. He needed as if he hadn't had sex in years. Vaguely, he wondered whether he had. He couldn't remember the last conquest he'd had as his entire attention had been focused on Spock.

"Yes." Spock granted, slicking his cock and leaning forward, pressing Jim's legs up and over his shoulders and aiming with perfect precision. Before he entered, he balanced easily on one arm and raised his hand questioningly toward Kirk's face. Kirk knew the question without it being voiced and nodded enthusiastically. Yes. He wanted to be taken thoroughly in body and in mind. He felt the fingers settle over his psi- points and all at once Spock entered him in a rush, thrusting deeply into body and mind. Kirk screamed with the overwhelming sensation and then floated in a sea of pleasure.

He almost couldn't focus on the physical onslaught for a long moment as his mind reached for that familiar delight of Spock, everywhere within him and all around him. A reassuring presence that this time enveloped him fully, this time filled every empty space freely. All he could do was feel, and think encouragement. He was beyond vocalization and beyond coherent thought. All he knew was that for the first time in his life he was thoroughly and utterly wanted, needed, and posessed. In the meld, Kirk knew that Spock could understand him completely, could see the way he craved this, needed to know that he belonged.

It was with tears in his eyes that he suddenly tipped over the precipice and exploded into an orgasm greater than any he'd ever had before, liberally coating their stomachs in his seed as he called Spock's name. Moments later the Vulcan thrust once more deeply, spasming within him and filling him with his own essence as he leaned forward to bite Jim's shoulder hard, marking him, claiming him as he gave a feral grunt of his own. They lay for a long moment as Spock delicately retreated from Jim's mind and they both gathered their senses once more, slowed their hearts and evened their breaths. Spock lay beside Jim on his own back, staring at the ceiling as their fingers twined between them.

"Hot damn." Jim mumbled dazedly.

"Indeed." Spock answered, a little breathless himself.

"Is it always going to be like that?"

"I do not know, but I find myself eager to discover the answer." He turned toward Jim, his eyes glinting.

Jim felt a rush of arousal flush through his stomach at the implication, but there was no way he could move an inch at present. "Awesome." he grinned. "Just... give me a minute... or sixty." He felt his eyes closing in spite of his best intentions. Just... damn, that was so good he didn't know if he'd ever move again. His legs felt like jelly. He couldn't even bring himself to use the head.

"We have plenty of time, t'hy'la." Spock murmured, kissing him gently on his temple and rolling to drape an arm and a leg across his prone form. "Just rest now, and I will be here when you wake."

"I love you." Jim mumbled. It was so effortless to say in the afterglow. He couldn't imagine why he'd never said the words aloud before.

"And I cherish thee. Happy zeroth anniversary, Jim."

Jim smiled slightly as he drifted pleasantly in Spock's warm embrace. "Happy anniversary, Spock."