"So, Spock," Jim started, twirling a rook between his long fingers, the chess set (mostly) complete at the end of the table. He watched Spock with an amused expression, blue eyes sparkling under the pale lights of the rec room. "How do you do that Vulcan salute again?"
Jim was almost proud at how casual he sounded, his smile widening as Spock caught his eye and wordlessly lifting his hand, fingers spreading easily apart. Jim had always wondered if there was ever a Vulcan who couldn't do it, as many humans couldn't, but he never had the nerve to ask. He had no idea how shameful such a thing could be— or embarrassing, and he doubted Spock would know.
Lifting his own hand, Jim's gaze fluttered down to his own fingers, which were spread equally apart, not down the middle. His smile slowly fell, setting into something slightly more irritated, brow furrowing in the slightest. In the end, he took his other hand and firmly grasped his fingers, forcing them apart.
In front of him, he heard Spock take in a sharp breath, and Jim looked up at him in surprise and something close to worry. "Are you all right?"
Spock's gaze was focused on Jim's fingers when he spoke, "I am well, perhaps you should… cease your actions."
Jim looked back down at his hand, "Oh." What he was doing had to be all sorts of disrespectful, but he wasn't sure. It was on his list to brush up on Vulcan culture and mannerisms, but he had so much paperwork to do, he never had the time to get around to it. He'd rather learn things from Spock himself, instead of losing time with him to learn about him, or rather, his people.
Letting his fingers fall to his lap, the captain kept quiet, staring at the glossy table. It was smaller than the others, in the corner of the room, and a low, mindless chatter filled the atmosphere. Still, Jim didn't like the silence between the two of them, though Spock looked as though he didn't mind it.
"What about that nerve pinch that you do?" he asked, shifting in his seat, lifting his eyes to look at Spock's face. Spock looked as he normally did, face blank of emotion, yet something fluttered in his eyes, something Jim couldn't pinpoint.
"What do you mean, Captain?"
Jim lifted his hand, imitating the action almost crudely. "You know… how do you do it?"
Spock stared at him, "Very carefully, sir."
Unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Jim replied, "Oh, stop that. You know what I'm asking, how do you do it? Is it just a Vulcan thing or can Humans learn it, too?"
"It is mainly a Vulcan action, but Humans and other species have the capability of learning it, as well."
Jim's face lit up, a bright, excited, almost manic grin setting across his lips. "That's great! Can you teach me?" He leaned forward on the table, moving into Spock's personal bubble in a way that he probably shouldn't have, but Spock didn't move away, so Jim figured it was a plus. They were friends, it was fine. Probably.
"I can attempt to teach you," Spock said stiffly, rising from his seat in one graceful movement that Jim didn't even bother to attempt. Almost like an excited puppy, or even an irritating toddler, Jim stood up too, rubbing his hands together to prepare himself.
"The nerve that you need to apply pressure to is very small, very delicate, and very hard to find. Near it are nerves twice as sensitive, and if pressure were applied on a Human, death could possibly occur."
Jim blinked, "Oh my God, really?" Spock's face was blank, and Jim was only half-certain he was kidding. "All right… well, it's a good thing you're not human, then. Where's this nerve?" He had seen Spock perform it several times before, but it was always quick and Jim was only sort of aware of its location.
"It is here," said Spock, pointing to the base of his neck. He then moved closer, fingers splaying across Jim's own nerve point, feeling but not squeezing. Despite the lack of pressure, Jim felt woozy, and he wasn't entirely sure if was from the effects of the almost-pinch at all.
Nodding, Jim lifted his own hand to touch the tendon at Spock's neck, right at the base where it nearly met the muscle leading to the shoulder. Jim's fingers scrambled, looking for the correct spot, but he couldn't find it.
Letting out a long breath that Jim thought was suspiciously close to a sigh, Spock shook his head, "No, you are too far…"
"Then show me," Jim insisted.
"I do not think—"
"Spock."
Spock looked up, eyes touring around the room before finally settling on Lieutenant Uhura. She was singing, smiling, almost grinning at Scotty, and though Jim didn't like to get into the personal life of his crew, she looked pretty happy with him. He wasn't sure why Spock was suddenly interested in her, maybe because she would have known what was going on and would have put a stop to it before he learned anything.
Finally, as if Spock had just realized that absolutely nobody was staring at them, his fingers gripped Jim's, leading them to the proper spot. Instead of releasing them immediately, the skin brushed, and Spock said, almost thickly, "Here is where you apply the pressure."
Jim licked his lips unconsciously, staring into the dark brown depths of Spock's eyes. "Can I…?" He couldn't believe what he was asking, but he didn't want to pull away, either.
"You may attempt."
Spock finally released his fingers, and Jim squeezed his hand. At first, nothing happened, then suddenly, "—Jim! What the hell are you doing?"
Jumping out of his skin, Jim released Spock's neck, turning around to see Bones staring at him with a suspicious expression. "Nothing," Jim said, glancing over at Spock, quickly catching his gaze and swallowing before turning away, "just trying to see if I can give him a taste of his own medicine, that's all."
Bones grumbled, accepting the answer, and Jim took a step back. His heart was beating hardly against his chest, and he felt flushed, but he ignored it. He ignored everything, because something had just been shattered and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it as.
"Thank you, Mr. Spock," he said, arms crossing behind his back in something of a formal, regulated manner.
Spock inclined his head, "Of course, Captain."