My second star trek and K/S slash story. Enjoy.
Nothing belongs to me.
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A light flickers from below, signaling his arrival. I have yet to experience a situation in which Spock failed to arrive exactly on time. As if an internal clock drove his obligation to show at exactly 16:30, he appears on the energizer deck, his face wrought with lack of emotion.
Every day, my first officer and I review federation documents, business proposals from other federation ships and most importantly: the next day's on-deck itinerary.
I easily admit to myself that it my favorite part of each day for not only does it remind me that am the official Captain of the 'U.S.S. Enterprise' but also because I get the daily satisfaction of being the sole individual who spends time in a lovely silence with Spock (besides possibly, Uhura). The comfortable quiet that binds our union joys me.
"Kirk?" He asks, the monotony of his voice both enthralling and puzzling, as he makes his way towards the board table, solely reserved for the two of us.
"Spock. On time as per usual." I joke, smiling at him, which earns me a single raised eyebrow.
"Captain, may I be so bold as to inquire of the inspiration of your bright disposition?" He somewhat states rather then questions.
"Spock, we are clear with the fact that you can call me Jim, right?" I note, avoiding his question entirely as I turn back towards the array of scattered documents.
"Correct, Jim." He responds, placing an odd emphasis on the first letter of my name.
"Alright, let's get to wo-" I began, pouring my eyes over the clutter.
"Jim. I do recall asking you a question." Spock interrupts which is simply out of character.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. A good day on the bridge, I guess." I mutter awkwardly.
I'm not used to this continued kind of conversation with Spock. I already miss the silence that I had always basked in.
"What an illogical response." He states, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"S-sorry?" I mumble, disturbed by his actions.
"That cannot be valid for a number of reasons. Such as Uhura's snide attitude towards you, Mr. Sulu's tendency to overdrive the engines and namely Dr. McCoy's lack of commitment." Spock explains.
"R-right. Well, Spock, you win. My 'inspiration' did not come from the mediocre daily experience of the bridge." I respond, keeping my gaze intently upon the table.
"As I perceived.." He states, moving towards our work. He loiters near my left side, seemingly scouring over a medical bill.
The tension rises as the silence continues; my heart thumping dangerously.
I absentmindedly reach for a federation executive newsletter just as Spock does the same. As our fingers brush accidentally, a spark of warmth rushes to my very core.
As I begin to retract my hand, Spock wraps his green-tinted hand around my forearm.
I look up at him, no doubt displaying all the vulnerability and fear hidden inside me. Yet, a surprise greets me as I see the same in Spock's eyes.
The quiet brings us together, our lips connecting halfway. They joy that the silence used to bring is present yet somehow amplified.
When we both pull away, Spock's eyes mirror my own: warmth.
He nods and places his hand upon a federation document, picking it slowly.
The silence looms and it is breathtaking.