Kirk held out his hand. Spock hesitated briefly before blinking and taking it. Jim led him through the bright halls of the Enterprise to a rarely-used room that had been overlooked in the shadow of work and responsibilities. It was late, and the room was empty. Kirk guided Spock to a battered park bench that sat in the middle of the room, in deep contrast with the modern white floor and walls. The wall in front of them was made of a clear, glass-like material. Deep space stretched out before them.
"Captain, what is the purpose of this room? I haven't seen it on any of the Enterprise layouts," Spock asked as he sat down.
Kirk's smile was almost imperceptible. They were quiet for a moment, still except for the circular patterns Kirk drew on the back of Spock's hand with his thumb.
"Just look." Jim said. Spock stared through the glass. Stars glistened against the dark hues of infinity. Lights flared then died, colors blended, red tints mingled with deep purples. Stars were born and galaxies spun on. He turned and looked into Kirk's eyes, their brightness and familiarity offering him more than the cosmic wonders that lay before them. Spock's detached and emotionless mask shattered; but instead of broken glass, he was only splintered.
Kirk put his arms around Spock's lithe frame and gripped him tight. Spock breathed in the deep scent of his Captain, basking in the terrifying freedom of his emotions. His barriers were down. He was vulnerable to every word and every touch, but he was with the one person that knew him like no other. Kirk knew what he needed; and Spock trusted him like no other. Spock pulled away and stared into the ocean blue of his eyes. Logic was drowning inside him and fear flickered behind his own brown eyes. Jim knew exactly what to do, he knew exactly what the Vulcan needed. He leaned forward and kissed him.
Warmth spread through the two of them as their lips connected, a spark blazing into a roaring fire, searing through their bodies.
The galaxy spun on.