A/N: So here's a Star Trek fanfiction for you, mainly because I wanted to write out a comic of mine. If you want to see the comic, use this link by replacing the parenthesis parts with what they say to replace. Simple, right?
poetic-kitsune(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Are-You-Blushing-124124096
Enjoy the light Spirky-ness. :D
Teeny lights flash and buttons are dragged and pressed as the half-Vulcan arranges the final touches to the bridge's controls prior to retiring for the evening. He often works as many shifts as he can, or must, due to his serious dedication to his work. Although he can find time for other things, he is not a man of idle business.
He doesn't hear the soft sound of the main entrance to the bridge open and close a ways behind him. He also doesn't notice the light tapping of footsteps making their way up behind him. He isn't aware, that is, until the cause of the automatic doors and footfalls voices his thoughts.
"Working late again, Mr. Spock?" a husky voice says with amusement in his tone. It's none other than Jim Kirk, the captain of the vessel. He worms his way up next to Spock, his index and middle finger reaching out to stop the sequence while the side of his hands brushes intimately against Spock's. The captain leans in as he does so, his face inches from the other's.
The Vulcan senses the tension and immediately takes a step aside, his hands retreating to behind his back as he clasps them. He uncomfortably clears his throat. "Correct, Captain," he replies dully as thoughts race through his advanced mind.
What was that sensation a moment ago? By mistake, my telepathy seemed to pick up signs of affection emitting from Jim's touch. Could that mean…
Realization strikes the first officer with stunning force. For a millisecond, his eyes widen and his lips part in awe. A streak of green tints his cheeks and burns the tips of his pointed ears. As his surprised and rather embarrassed expression leaves, the obvious green hue painting his features does not.
"Hey, Spock…" Kirk smiles as he steps closer once more.
"What is it?" the half-Vulcan murmurs with slight agitation in his tone.
"Are you blushing? Did I embarrass you somehow?" the captain inquires as he leans over the control console, his hand placed over the plastic covering. There are high levels of suggestion in his voice and a sly grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
Spock stiffens at the accusation, his blush momentarily more prominent on his face, although less-so on his ears. Beginning to walk away, he quickly explains, "On the contrary, Vulcans are incapable of expressing such an obvious example of humiliation." He raises a hand in the air as the distance between himself and the exit shrinks. "Now then, if you'll excuse me, I am going to retire to my quarters for the night."
Peering over his shoulder at his clearly-flustered-yet-trying-to-hide-it first officer, Jim smiles to himself. "Goodnight, then," he bids in a teasing tone as the soft thut of closing automatic doors reaches his ears.
Left alone, Kirk slowly breaks out into triumphant chuckling, a mischievous smirk upturning one side of his mouth. "Heh, heh heh heh. The pointy-eared bastard was due for some payback."
And what a payback it is, because only James T. Kirk is clever enough to use a Vulcan's touch-telepath abilities against them for once. Of 'course, Spock might now be forming the wrong idea about his captain's intentions, but that only makes their miniature duality and bizarre friendship all the more entertaining.
