"Jim…" Spock said in a strained whisper, "you are aware that you are kissing me, correct?"

The captain smiled and nodded. He appreciated the way Spock's skin felt against his own, the way the arched fingerprints of his fingertips slid so easily into place. But just as he had begun to savor the rich flutter of tingles that shot through his hand, to his soul, the touch was gone.

In his own haze of lust and love he failed to read Spock's face. And by the looks of it, the Vulcan wasn't thrilled. He seemed withdrawn and had taken a step back.

Jim's stomach instantly did half a dozen flips. A steaming wave of embarrassment threatened to crash down on him at any moment.

"I…I thought you said that you weren't in a relationship with Nyota anymore."

"I am not."

"So why did you pull away from my hand?" Kirk boldly asked.

"Just because I am no longer romantically involved with Nyota, does not necessarily mean that I am prepared for a relationship with you."

The words felt like a slap in the face. The captain's mind went reeling; his mouth was slightly open but devoid of words.

He awkwardly cleared his throat and took a step back.

"I'm sorry Spock," Jim said. "I thought that you felt the same way I did."

"How do you feel?" Spock asked.

But Jim had already put too much on the line and been rejected, he wasn't about to pour his heart out on the floor.

"Never mind," Jim said, shaking his head, feeling absurdly foolish.

Had he fabricated the idea that Spock returned his affection? Maybe he had. Maybe he wanted it so bad that he was forcing something that didn't exist.

Jim looked absolutely crushed. He tried to hide the sadness behind his long, shower-wet lashes, but was failing. The desolation was evident in the depths of his sparkling blue eyes.

"I should go," Jim turned to head back to his quarters. "I'm sorry Spock," he uttered, regretting it immediately since it was the second time in five minutes he had apologized.

"Wait," Spock said, causing Jim to half turn back. "I wish to know how you feel."

"Oh come on Spock…" Jim huffed, exasperated. "I just Vulcan kissed you, how do you think I feel?"

"I do not presume to know how anyone feels unless they explicitly tell me," Spock said, innocently, inquisitively. It was as if he was a child holding a microscope to an anthill in search of scientific answers, all the while frying the shit out of the ants.

The commander waited for a response but none came. His captain merely stood in the open doorway to the bathroom; his chest and face flush red and his body still dripping from the steaming shower.

"It was one thing for me to have a relationship with Nyota…" Spock said hesitantly, breaking the silence in the stuffy room. "We began our courtship before we were assigned to the Enterprise, and maintaining that relationship while seeing one another every day was not easy."

Jim's face scrunched a little. "What is the point of you telling me this?" Jim asked.

Spock gulped and folded his hands behind his back.

"Our dynamic is crucial to the operation of this ship captain."

A look of realization flashed across the human's features. "Are you saying that you don't want to get involved with me because it may not be good for the ship?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"So it's not because you're not interested in me?"

Spock's eyes wandered to a corner in the room. He needed time to examine his own feelings, to think about all of this. "I have never considered becoming romantically involved with a male," he said matter-of-factly. "But I do care for you deeply," he said almost inaudibly, as if he were ashamed of his own emotions.

"I cannot lose our friendship," Spock said after a minute of silence. A pained expression flitted across his angular features as he remembered the feeling of losing Captain Kirk once already.

"I understand," Jim said, nodding slowly. "Don't want to lose a friendship if a relationship doesn't work out. Very logical."

He gripped the doorframe and looked Spock over as his fingernails scratched the metal. Heartache flowed over him and made it feel as though his blood was running cold. It wasn't until he was told he couldn't have what he wanted…that he realized just how badly he wanted it.

"I should have come to you, talked to you, figured things out more before…" Jim stopped, his eyes glancing over at Spock's hand, the hand that he just Vulcan kissed.

"Anyway…" he cleared his throat again, but it didn't get rid of the lump that now lived there. "…have a good night, get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow."

The blonde turned and walked towards his own room. The doors whooshed shut behind him.

As soon as he was safely within the confines of his space he let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding.

It wouldn't be possible to put into words just how stupid he felt. He felt so epically f*#& !% stupid that he slapped the palm of his hand into his face so hard that it hurt.

Shit, he was James T. Kirk, the smoothest motherfucker in the galaxy. And yet, around Spock, he was a floundering mess, making all the wrong moves. All of his charm, wit and experience must've gone down the drain with the shower water.

He needed to get over this and fast.

Forget the embarrassment, forget his feelings for Spock, and forget that the last week had ever even happened.

Maybe Spock was right, their dynamic, their friendship, was too important to alter, especially in the beginning of a five-year mission. Jim had no problem seeing the logic in Spock's argument, but that didn't take the sting out of it.

The way he felt about Spock was unparalleled, it was like nothing he had ever experienced, and if he let it go…he may never find anything like it again.

"I'm so fucked," he said as he dove headfirst onto his bed like a teenager, burying his face in the pillow. He gripped the damn thing so hard that he ripped it.

Alternating waves of rejection, embarrassment and sadness rolled over him throughout the night. He didn't sleep. He just lay on his ripped pillow, atop a damp cover in his dress pants and stared into the darkness.