I've had this little ficlet floating around in my Google Docs for awhile, just something I idly wrote one day when I was bored. I decided to just post it here. Just some space husbands, being sweet and snugly.

It was one of those rare mornings when Jim woke up before Spock. His eyes still closed, Jim hummed softly and breathed in deeply. His nose was pressed against the back of the Vulcan's neck, and he could smell his musk. Jim smiled as he opened his eyes.

He was immediately greeted to the sight of dark hair that was usually severely neat, slightly mussed against the pillow. Spock would never admit to getting bed head, no matter how much Jim teased him about it. Jim pressed a light kiss to the hairs on Spock's neck before moving back slightly so he could better look at him. Spock only stirred slightly, sighing in his sleep.

Jim watched Spock's chest expand and collapse as his best friend and lover breathed in and out. His back was the same shade of gentle green as the rest of his body, and beautiful as the rest of him too, like verdant marble. Idly, Jim slid his hand away from where it was resting - on Spock's waist, right over his heart - and lightly drew his fingertips over Spock's skin, tracing his shoulder blades with the tip of his index finger. Pretty soon, Jim was just drawing random shapes and lines over Spock's back, like it was a chalkboard.

Eventually Spock came to, and said in a voice even deeper and more gravelly than it usually was because of sleep, "Jim? What are you doing?"

"Doodling," Jim responded, tracing a curly q.

"Without pencil and paper?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Spock hummed thoughtfully. "Most peculiar."

"I can stop if you like."

"You don't have to stop, unless you wish. The sensations of your actions are pleasant, even if they produce no material artwork."

Jim grinned, kissing his shoulder. "You are art, Mister Spock."

Spock said nothing, but Jim knew him well enough to know that he was blushing.

"Here, I've got an idea. I'll draw something, and you can try to guess what it is."

"That sounds...intriguing."

Jim guessed that was Vulcan for "fun". "Okay." Jim drew a curve that trailed down and came to a point, then brought his finger back up, drawing the same line in reverse, mirroring the first, until his finger reached its original point.

"I believe that is the simplified depiction of a human heart," said Spock.

"That's right," said Jim with a smile.

"The development of that geometric shape is rather fascinating. It is widely believed that it was drawn to vaguely resemble parts of the human cisgender woman, such as the buttocks, the pubic mound, and the vulva, but others say that it was supposed to be two anatomical hearts conjoined, to emblemize two individuals becoming one spiritual entity through amorous love."

"Oh, Spock, you say the most romantic things," Jim sighed dramatically.

"I believe I detect sarcasm," said Spock, just as sardonically.

"Only a little bit, dear," said Jim, pressing a kiss to one of Spock's pointy ears. "Here, guess what I'm drawing now."

"Hmm...it seems you're drawing human letters now. 'I'... 'L'... 'O'... 'I love you'."

'I love you too," Jim replied playfully.

"I was only guessing what you were writing."

"Oh, so now you don't love me? That's nice," Jim pouted, pretending to be hurt. He huffily rolled over, turning his back to Spock, and acted like he was sulking.

Jim felt Spock roll over too, and the Vulcan's warm breath was at his ear. "You are illogical, my beloved," Spock said softly.

Jim smirked at him over his shoulder. "But that's just one of the many reasons why I am your beloved," he reminded him.

Spock only responded with a kiss to the nape of his neck, and his finger on Jim's back, drawing intricate designs on his flesh. "What are you drawing?" Jim asked him.

"I am writing a poem from pre-Reform Vulcan. It is said to be one of the most poignant expressions of affection and passion our race has ever produced, similar to the verses of your earth's Sappho, or the sonnets of Shakespeare."

Jim felt himself go a little gooey. "Tell me what it means?" he asked.

"It doesn't have an English translation," said Spock. "The poem is considered taboo on our world for its provocativeness. But perhaps I could try to transcribe it for you."

"Ooh, a sexy poem from Spock," teased Jim. "Maybe I should write one for you." He cleared his throat. "There once lived a Vulcan on Venus. He was known to have a large-"

"Jim!" Spock said, aghast.

Jim laughed, rolling over and kissing the other man. "Come on, come and take a shower with me. We have duty in a hour."

"Only if you promise to behave yourself," Spock replied, allowing himself to be pulled out of bed.

Jim grinned and waggled his eyebrows at him. "Now where's the fun in that?"