This is another version of a fic on my AO3 account, so enjoy this one without the other, unless you look up that one on your own. Special content for you peeps, because I do NOT have this uploaded over there and have no plans of doing so. Also, if anyone would like to use this idea to create a longer fic of your own, you go right ahead.
Getting Spock to give up was one of the most satisfying things Jim had ever done. Almost better than achieving captaincy. With the Vulcan's usual obstinacy, it was difficult to get him to do practically anything. Well, anything illogical. Or to concede to a loss. Because, God knows, Spock hated to lose just as much as Jim did.
Jim grinned, leaning over Spock, careful to keep his First Officer pinned. Sweat dripped down the side of his face.
"Good work, Mister Spock," Jim teased lightly, a laugh resting on the tip of his tongue, "but you'll have to do better than that."
Spock merely gazed up at Jim, his face set in its usual placid mask, except for the green blush belaying his recent physical exertion. And if Spock looked like that, then Jim almost didn't want to know how he himself fared.
Probably looked like he ran five miles straight. Or just got done with some really vigorous sex.
Jim froze.
He quickly shook his head, dislodging the thought, and sat back on his heels. He looked down at the Vulcan, his grin slowly fading. Spock's expression seemed… well, soft somehow. Still emotionless, but there was something about it that wasn't as stiff as it usually was.
"Spock…?" Jim leaned back down, scanning his First Officer's face.
"Captain," Spock acknowledged blandly.
His body was relaxed. Jim blinked. That's what it was, that's why his First Officer seemed 'soft'. Spock didn't like to be touched, and he normally tensed up when he was. Not 'rock solid' stiff, but just enough that it was noticeable if someone happened to be the one touching the Vulcan. And Jim had the bad habit of touching his First Officer, mostly because he forgot that Spock was Vulcan and didn't like being touched. Or… that wasn't exactly it…
Jim was hit with the sudden realization that he was straddling his First Officer in the middle of the exercise room.
A wild blush raced across his face.
Jim prepared to stand but was halted by a light touch on the top of his shorts-covered thigh. He met Spock's gaze. The Vulcan didn't remove the two fingers that were gently pressed against Jim's thigh, a flicker of some emotion drifting through those chocolate eyes.
Jim pulled in a deep breath, more than a little enchanted. Then he shook his head, breath leaving him explosively.
Enchanted. By his First Officer. Like a teenager with a crush, all the while in plain view for anybody to walk in and see them.
Jim glanced at the entrance before adjusting his position, placing a hand next to Spock's head and leaning in close enough that he felt the Vulcan's cooler breath against his face.
"Yeah, Spock?" hHe asked pleasantly, not bothering to hide his challenge. If Spock didn't care that anybody could discover them in a compromising position, might as fucking well go all out.
Spock simply raised an eyebrow. Jim rolled his eyes, sitting back up.
"You're no fun," he huffed.
He crossed his arms and studied the Vulcan. The longer he stared, the more the thin threads of irritation broke away from him, leaving him contemplative.
Spock removed his fingers, placing his hands palm-down on the ground, but otherwise didn't move.
Jim studied his friend's face, a random fact popping into his head. He leaned back down into Spock's face, his curiosity his motivation this time. His hand came up, without thought, to delicately brush at the skin under Spock's eye. He didn't notice the way the Vulcan tensed slightly.
"I read somewhere that Vulcans have an inner eyelid. Is that true?"
"Yes, Captain."
Jim hummed, squinting at Spock's eye.
"Can I see?"
The flash of a blurry membrane spread across Spock's eye, just for a split second, as quick as a blink. Jim exhaled a little laugh.
He traced his finger back and forth on the thin skin under Spock's eye.
"I read somewhere that Vulcans don't have tear ducts, too," he said softly.
"Due to my mixed heritage, I have inherited tear ducts from my mother, one of the few human physical traits I exhibit."
"One of?" Jim echoed, carefully dragging his finger across Spock's face towards the Vulcan's ears. Those pointed things often held Jim's attention, which was stupid, but didn't stop Jim from looking.
"I have been informed on multiple occasions that I have my mother's eyes."
Jim paused.
Spock's tone was even, as it normally was, but there was a sense of tension palpable in the air. Jim should probably stop.
However, he didn't want to and Spock hadn't cut him off yet.
The tip of his finger touched the pointed top of Spock's right ear. This time he felt Spock's abdominal muscles clench and release.
"It's amazing. Without these ears and your complexion, you could be easily mistaken for human. Well…"
Jim traced his finger down the shell of Spock's ear before moving to tap at the Vulcan's brow.
"These eyebrows are a little strange, but that can be explained away as an eccentricity."
Spock raised said eyebrow, eliciting another breathy chuckle from Jim.
Then Jim sat back and drug his finger down Spock's face, over his chin to rest on his Adam's apple.
"Vulcans are capable of making noises humans can't, right?"
"Affirmative."
Jim tilted his head, circling the bump with his finger, intrigued by the vibrations made from Spock's voice.
"Can I hear?"
Finally, a speck of emotion crossed his First Officer's face. The faintest crease between his brows to indicate his confusion and exasperation.
"Captain—-""
"Please, Spock? For science?" Jim puffed out his bottom lip in a pout, widening his eyes pitifully.
Spock wasn't impressed.
"You are being illogical."
Jim dropped his pleading expression, a grin once again pulling at his mouth.
"Always," he laughed.
He sobered quickly, though. He tapped at Spock's throat with his index and middle finger.
"Please," he repeated, serious.
Spock's breath had hitched when Jim touched him with his first two fingers, causing Jim to tilt his head the other way.
He nearly flinched when Spock let out a sudden deep growling sound. It was weird, hearing such an aggressive sound coming from someone whosewho's countenance gave away nothing. And feeling it under his fingers was weirdly pleasant.
Then Spock made a noise that could only be described as a purr. The vibrations from this noise felt faint in Spock's larynx, so Jim set about looking for their origins. He slid his fingers down his First Officer's throat, stopping just under the indent between Spock's collarbones. The noise hadn't stopped, continuous no matter whether the Vulcan was breathing in or out.
Jim glanced up at Spock's face, once again faintly amused by the lack of expression accompanying such a… content sound. The noise cut off.
Jim raised his eyebrows, a smirk pulling at one corner of his lips.
"Vulcans are touch telepaths, right, Mister Spock?" Jim asked.
"Vulcans are classified as such," Spock confirmed sagely.
Jim pursed his mouth.
"Classified as such…" he repeated.
He dismissed his First Officer's words for the moment, resuming his examination. He laid his palm down in the middle of Spock's chest.
"If you were human, I'd be able to feel your heartbeat right here."
Jim shifted his right knee, pushing it into Spock's side.
"Instead, it's easiest to feel," he nudged Spock a little harder with his knee, "here."
"Where my liver is, your heart is instead. And it beats so much faster than mine, even when you aren't doing anything."
He felt the evidence of this against his knee. He had held a rabbit before, felt it's little heartbeat race even while it was calmly eating lettuce. It was similar to Spock's heart rate.
Spock's hands twitched at his sides, drawing Jim's attention. He placed his own hands on Spock's shoulders.
"Your temperature is lower than mine, which is why you're always wearing your thermals while on the ship. It's too cold for you to be comfortable."
He slid his hands ever-so-slowly down Spock's arms.
"I would raise the ship's ambient temperature so you could be comfortable, but then everybody would melt. And the drain on our warp core would be a little too heavy."
"Melt, Captain?" Spock asked, a hint of confusion playing about his tone.
"You know what I mean," Jim dismissed easily.
He paused his hands on Spock's biceps. He squeezed them.
"You're three times stronger than me, made that way by your planet'splanets gravity. Denser too, for that same exact reason."
Jim chuckled, squeezing Spock's arms again as he teased, "Fatty."
Spock's raised eyebrow marked his unamusement. But his hands, which had previously been splayed against the ground, were now clenched into fists. There was a faint tremble going through his body as well, all the while his expression held only what he wished to convey to Jim.
A spike of irritation caught Jim off guard. He wasn't really sure where it came from, only that it caused him to want to see Spock react somehow. Lose a little bit of his rigid control.
His hands glided over the smooth sleeves of Spock's workout shirt. He stopped at his First Officer's wrists, gripping them lightly.
"I can keep going on about our differences. Your respiratory system is adapted to a thinner atmosphere, your digestive tracttrack is amazingly adaptable itself, your metabolism is more efficient than mine, your blood is copper- based. And your brain is a wonder, honestly. You Vulcans have crazy control over your bodily functions."
He tightened his grip on Spock's wrists.
"By the way, earlier, you mentioned that Vulcans were classified as touch telepaths. Is that because of the way the nerves connect in your brain, allowing your telepathy and sense of touch to be sensitive in your hands? Well, strongest in your hands, but anywhere on your body is fair game. Overall, though, you all can perceive other minds without touching. If your telepathy is strong enough."
There was a crease in between Spock's eyebrows.
"How have you come across this information, Captain?"
Jim smiled innocently.
"Oh, you know, I read it somewhere. Can't remember where."
He grinned at the brief look of frustration and disbelief on his First Officer's face.
"Hey, Spock," Jim leaned in, "I'm guessing you have a strong mind. Because I'm not touching any of your skin, but you look like you wanna say 'bullshit'."
Spock's entire body tensed, his expression stiff and closed.
"I am shielded, Captain. I do not need your thoughts to be cognizant that it is impossible for you to have come across this amount of information on Vulcans without you having specifically sought it."
Jim knew he offended his First somehow.
"Sorry," he gentled his grip and leaned back.
"There is no offense where none is taken," Spock replied automatically.
Jim rolled his eyes.
"Sure," he huffed.
He glanced at Spock's hands.
"Spock," Jim's own hands inched down, just slightly, "is it true that Vulcan's kiss with their hands?"
Now Spock was tense again. Probably for a different reason, though it was hard to tell from his expression. The general feel in the air, however, switched to something heady.
And his First remained stubbornly silent.
Jim released Spock's wrists, and arranged his right hand so that his first two fingers were extended while the rest were tucked in.
"Something like this, right? I've seen some couples touch their fingers like this."
Of course, Jim already knew the answer and he saw when Spock recognized this. It was hard to miss considering Spock was a blur of movement and then Jim was the one pinned.
"Desist, Captain."
"You kissed my thigh," Jim countered, a flare of frustration making him confrontational.
Spock pulled back from Jim, standing with grace whereas Jim laylaid sprawled out on the ground.
"I kissed your throat, so we're even," he continued, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
Jim narrowed his eyes at Spock when the Vulcan merely pulled at the hem of his shirt to straighten it. A nervous habit.
"Can you just—-"
"I am needed elsewhere, Captain," Spock interrupted.
He briskly made his exit.
"Bullshit!" Jim hollard after him.