I don't own Star Trek. Nor do I own Lorrie Morgan's song Something in Red. Which heavily inspired this…like, super heavily.

This is utterly crack. Enjoy.

Can be taken as romance or epic bromance, though you might have to squint a bit for the latter.

… … .. . .. … …

Red

He hated the red uniforms. Not because they were conformist, he couldn't care less about that. And not for the trim, which was actually pretty flattering on him. No. He hated them because he'd always had something of a ruddy complexion as a kid and, while he'd grown into a pleasant golden tan, the red uniforms made him look ruddy. In his opinion, it took a rare few to cut a figure in the ostentatious red of the academy, and he just wasn't one of them.

He was one among many. It wasn't like his particular uniform stood out in the sea of red.

And yet…

And yet when those brown eyes levied on him, scanning him, memorizing him, he couldn't help but feel lightheaded. He couldn't help but feel he really stood out. Like he'd somehow made such an impression.

Like he'd turned his head.

… .. .

Green

It was an awful shirt. McCoy said it made him look like a pregnant Reglian cat. Sulu looked ready to cry. Scotty hadn't said anything. Chekov had giggled. Uhura went pale. Uhura went pale because she had composed to cultural brief. Uhura went pale because she understood exactly what Jim was doing. Uhura went pale because Jim was beaming down in that awful shirt. It was the only one he'd had, a gift from the Admirals as some kind of joke, no doubt. But all the same, that awful wrap shirt was the only one he had in green

Green was a poignant color in many cultures.

Spock knew, when he saw that awful shirt, exactly what he was telling him. He knew the Jim had come to this stupid delegation party specifically to get him. He knew that, by the deathly grip on his arm, T'Pring knew as well.

In spite of his unfailing confidence, there was a look in Jim's eyes.

A look in his eyes that whispered "Please come back to me."

… .. .

White

It was itchy. And hot. And really breezy, now that he thought about it. He hadn't really noticed, when he was kneeling in the fucking sand, burning his knees through the seemingly flimsy material. Now, standing on this damn mountain, he noticed how utterly breezy it was. If that wasn't enough, cloud were rolling in. He was on an arid planet, for fuck's sake. One that didn't see water every decade, let alone every year or so. And the only other person with too much dignity to suck it up and pretend they weren't sweltering was McCoy. Everyone else was too busy being enthralled.

Well, so was Jim, but that was beside the point.

And Spock did look good in that traditional garb, even if it was scratchy as all hell.

The rain let loose at the end of the ceremony. Everyone present seemed surprised, something about a good omen. Jim was just surprised to find the traditional garb was partially see through when wet. Good omen or not.

Well, everyone did call them the perfect pair.

… .. .

Blue

It was…adorable. No one else would agree with him when Spock was present, but it was. It was the perfect shade of blue, the same deep color as the science uniform. Little stripes on the sleeve denoted a captain though. It was so small, too, small compared to Jim's hands, just like it's wearer. He still couldn't get over the little boy in his arms. Wide eyes stared up at him with a curiosity that just spoke of trouble when he grew up. Jim said he had his father's nose and chin. McCoy eyed him seriously, removing a scope from one pointed little ear where he was doing a checkup to give it a pointed gesture.

He looked so much like his father in his little science uniform.

Jim couldn't get over that either.

And Spock would eye him warily when he bounced the little one on his knee, constantly prepared to intervene, but completely trusting. And Jim couldn't picture him growing up as anything but his father's son.

But still, the baby was brand new.

… .. .

Red

He hated the red uniforms. They made him look like an over ripe tomato. Part of that was on him: desk duty had done a toll on his figure. The color still made his complexion ruddy, and there was no way he was going to blame that on the fact that he'd been crying. Especially not with Klingons in the room. It was hard to cut an imposing figure when you were seconds from blubbering. So he stood prim in that red uniform, a size larger than the year before.

The other officers present were wearing red too.

And yet…

And yet those brown eyes watched him with a hint of amusement, memorizing him. And he felt light headed, and couldn't help but feel like he stood out. Like he was the only one wearing red in the universe.

Like the first time he'd turned his head.

… … .. . .. … …

So…super short little thing. Think I should do one from Spock's point of view?