AN: Totally hyped on caffeine and sleep-deprived since two days… suddenly, when hearing this song my mind instantly went "The Motion Picture!" Because I'm so ridiculously into Star Trek right now that I relate basically everything to it. And here we are. My first K/S fanfic, definitely not the last, and probably not the best, but it's a start. And now I. NEED. MORE. COFFEE~!
"Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared…"
"… but, like so many of us, it does not know what."The words repeating in his head over and over Jim can't stay still. After pacing the room a little longer he sits down on the bed again. Hundreds of thoughts and emotions are twirling, unstoppable, through his mind. One second relief; the very next fear; next ecstasy; he gets up again and walks over to the window. Usually the marvelous sight would calm him, but not this time.
Spock is always on time, a quality he has sometimes made fun of, other times praised. Thinking about it now brings a smile to his lips. And then, the next moment, panic strikes. He's always, always punctual. In only four minutes he'll be at Jim's door, and he still hasn't figured out what to do with all of this.
Something fundamentally changed in sickbay – just thinking back on that moment and he feels Spock's warm palm against his. But while he's been wishing for this for so very long he's not quite sure what to do now. At the end of the five year mission he ruined everything. In a way, they both did. And he never, ever, expected this second chance. Hoped? Of course. Begged for it to happen? Well, obviously. But he never believed this wish would actually come true. But Spock is here, on his ship, by his side and he says he… understands… this simple feeling… oh lord.
Without really thinking about it he starts moving towards the door, his eyes on the chronometer but not actually seeing it. The sound of someone knocking startles him, even though it should've been expected; it's time, and Spock is never late.
As the doors slide open his breath catches, and for a second he doesn't know what to say. The simple contrast of Spock's silhouette against the bright corridor is striking, to say the least. Not trusting himself to speak he nods his head, motioning for the vulcan to come inside. One step, two steps, Jim stands silently by the door, watching him approach. He used to be so good at reading Spock, but right now he can't seem to figure out a single thought from the controlled expressions. Maybe he's just nervous. Yes, that has to be it.
Spock clears his throat, his eyes rising to meet the Captain's. "Jim…"
Not Captain. Not Kirk, simply "Jim." And that's when he can't hold back anymore. It might be an overly emotional gesture, but he can't help himself. Spock understood in sickbay, he understood. Jim can only pray that he still does as he wraps his arms around the vulcan.
For a while everything is quiet. Too quiet. He can feel the stiff, warm body against his own, and while he wants nothing more but to cling to it he tries to hold back. The longer the silence continues the more uncertain he becomes. What if he misunderstood? What if somehow he messed up it, again? But then a pair of strong arms rises to embrace him and instantly his worries disappears. The nervousness and fear replaced by joy and giddiness. Burrowing his face against Spock's chest he tries to inhale the scent while at the same time sighing happily; it ends up sounding like a hiccup. His heart almost stops when Spock's response is a silent chuckle; at first he isn't even sure whether he imagined it or not.
Letting his grip go a little he separates from the vulcan, only to meet his eyes. He's close to sighing from relief when he now can read those dark eyes perfectly again, and what's written in his beloved's face is enough to make him grin from ear to ear. Raising his right hand to rest gently against the pale, slightly green neck he leans in, trying to hide the fact that he has to stand on the tip of his toes, and presses his lips against that thin, controlled smile. To finally feel Spock's lips against his own is enough to keep him happy a lifetime, but when the kiss deepens he isn't one to complain. Searching with his left hand he can finally meet that warm palm again, and there it is – the spark. Something more than this, something he always wanted. The warm lips are moving against his, and it's only when he hears the word resonate in the vulcan's chest that Jim realizes that he's said something. A word in vulcan he does not know, but it feels right, so incredibly right.
Lacing their fingers together the spark deepens, rising almost to a flame. Their minds are dancing and Jim can feel his final thought, before losing himself completely in this moment, being mirrored by his partner; the overwhelming happiness of finding the place where he belongs.