Bedaub
Spock shook his head, watching over Jim's shoulder as he stirred. "I cannot understand your fondness for chocolate, Jim."
Jim held up the spoon. The liquid fell away in a shiny stream. "You like it too."
"Only under certain circumstances."
Jim smiled. His index finger vanished briefly into the pot before resurfacing, coated with chocolate. He reached up and swept the coated digit across Spock's cheek, leaving a trail behind. Then the finger was gone, replaced by Jim's lips in a soft kiss. "Like now?" he murmured.
Spock only nodded, momentarily breathless as Jim continued to kiss the chocolate away.
Idyll
It was just too perfect. Never mind that the flowers could have neurotoxic pollen, or that the grass could be razor-sharp. Jim raced forward into the whole alien meadow, laughing his head off. When he was in the middle of it, he turned around towards Spock, shooting him a gleeful grin.
"Spock, come on!" he called. The surrounding world spun madly, turning all shades of colors as the sun reflected off the flora. The Vulcan was rushing towards him in increasingly slow motion, yelling wordlessly. Odd, Jim thought.
It was his last thought before he fell into Spock's outstretched arms.
Nascent
After three consecutive rounds of amorous play, Spock was only partially exhausted. The same could not be said for Jim; two minutes after the third session Jim was fast asleep on Spock's chest.
Spock allowed himself a small smile. He reached down and carefully swept a lock of hair away from Jim's forehead. A curious thought occurred to him—they were together, older and no longer in Starfleet, but on Earth, in their own apartment, wearing matching thin bands of gold on their ring fingers. He blushed at the thought.
It was not the last time he would consider marriage.
Sanctum
When neither of their rooms was a viable option for privacy, they had one more place: a small, disused lab room. Spock, per his usual genius, had rearranged the door's locking sequence, to something only they knew, and Jim had added a host of large, fluffy pillows to one corner. It was quiet there, and the light was low and blue and soothing. It was soundproofed, too, which was good when troops of ensigns passed them by in the midst of very prolonged foreplay. Although half the crew knew they were together, they didn't want or need the extra attention.
Portent
It didn't take Vulcan super-hearing to catch the deafening, delighted squeal from several tables over. The girl had her hands over her heart, and Jim could vaguely spot the glinting diamond ring.
"Illogical."
Jim turned. Spock's eyebrow was raised as he observed the spectacle. "Such a public display of emotion is considered boorish to my race," he went on. "Even concerning marriage proposals."
"So you wouldn't jump out your skin if, say…?"
Spock's nostrils flared slightly. "Inwardly, perhaps."
Under the table, Jim's hand fluttered nervously to the velvety black box nestled in his suit pocket. "Inwardly. Of course, Mr. Spock."
Author's Notes: These were nice and fluffy. I had to stop myself from putting in a bunch of smut, with all the word options. Speaking of which, I fear I'm starting to run out of nice, fluffy words. Angry or angsty prompts might be forthcoming.
Thanks, as always, to my beta xladyjagsvolleyball16x, and thanks to my readers who are still hanging on after last week. I hate to be a profile ho, but if you haven't read all my stories, please do! Also check out Tech Duinn for some really good work; if you're into Drarry as well (a la Harry Potter), Cheryl Dyson is always a good, albeit smutty read. Til next week, duckies!