Giving In
5 times Jim almost made Spock to give in to his emotions, and one time he did...
A/N: A series of short pieces, drabbles, nothing huge, just about how our favourite ship might have come about... Enjoy! This will definitely be Jim/Spock in at least the final drabble, but nothing remotely graphic, so if that bothers you then either don't read or skim over the ending.
#1
"Checkmate!" Jim placed his queen on the top level of the board with a louder-than-strictly-necessary thud. His satisfied grin threatened to split his glowing face in two, and Spock felt a small twitch at his lips. Horrified, he crushed the blossoming emotion before it could take root. What was he thinking? "Congratulations, ca- Jim," he amended hastily at his companion's withering scowl. "Your illogic serves you well," he added quietly. Jim's grin grew even wider, if such a thing was possible. He licked his index finger and marked a '1' in the air, earning himself a faintly bemused raised eyebrow.
#2
A prickling feeling on the back of his neck that his friend would jokingly term 'intuition' caused Spock to turn his head back and check on the following party. A sudden creak from above was the only other warning that the rock above was about to give way, but it was enough for the powerful half-Vulcan to pull the captain in toward him, allowing him to shield the smaller man with his protectively-hunched body. "Jim?" he whispered, voice hoarse, and had to quell a sigh of relief at the answering groan from his enrolled friend as he straightened his back.
#3
"Damnit, Jim, this is your own fault!" snapped McCoy as he ran a tricorder over the feverishly writhing form strapped down on his examination table. Spock's hands clenched, safely out of sight as they were behind his back. "Doctor," he almost-growled, through tight lips, "Have you ascertained the cause of the captain's ailment?" He felt tense and there was a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he did not recognise. McCoy shot him a sharp glance, but sighed when he recognised the suppressed worry in his companion's stance. "Not yet," he admitted painfully. Spock's eyes glittered suspiciously.
#4
Pride swelled in the half-Vulcan's chest as he looked across to the captain's chair. Jim looked cool and in control, his golden hair only a little out of place from the heavy fire a bird-of war was currently throwing at them. He felt an utterly illogical urge to go over there and lift the cowlick from his friend's sapphire eyes, and busied his long fingers with the science console in an effort to distract himself from such... emotional thoughts. He would have to meditate at length on these unfamiliar feelings later, but right now he had to do his duty.
#5
A tight feeling gripped his pounding heart as he burst through the automatic doors, into the chamber in which he knew Jim was being held. He caught his breath and tried to clear his throat tactfully, but found it was too dry – from exertion of running or as a response to the unwelcome scene before his eyes, he could not say. Spock rewound that particular train of thought, giving a start as he hit upon the word that had caught his attention. Unwelcome. Was it unwelcome, the sight of his best friend locking lips with another scantily-clad blonde? Of course.
#1
"Spock?" Jim's voice shook as he pressed fingers, slick with blood, to his friend's throat. "Come on..." he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. A faint pulse drew a cry of joy from his lips, and Spock's eyelids opened at the sound. His pupils contracted in the sunlight, and slowly the silhouette of his best friend came into focus. "Jim," he breathed, his voice a rough baritone. Reaching out a trembling hand, the half-Vulcan extended his middle and index fingers nervously. Spock's unguarded expression shone with love as Jim reciprocated his gesture, and pressed a human kiss to his forehead.