WHO: Spock & Kirk WHEN: Around December 10th, after the mistletoe pod fell. WHERE: An abandoned corridor WHAT: Kirk corners Spock under mistletoe; or, Starfleet saps strike back. WARNINGS: Suggestive content, blatant use of holiday tropes, schmoop, && lots of making out.
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"I would build you an Enterprise out of snow…seeing as it is currently are only widely available resource." They were in one of the less frequented corridors, one that Spock had come to appreciate for its relative privacy. So much so that he had taken Kirk's hand into his, aware that such a gesture was customary among human partners. "However, I do not believe it would meet engineering's standards… Snow cannot achieve orbit."
"Okay, that would be fun, especially if we built a life size one - God knows we have enough snow - but would you be warm enough?" Jim asked, squeezing Spock's hand with a goofy look as he raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan. "Wouldn't want you getting cold just to satisfy my whims."
Spock eyed Jim curiously. "I would do almost anything to satisfy your whims, assuming they did not result in any legal infractions or potential death. A snowman does not fall into either of those categories, as far as I am aware." The Vulcan did not smile, but it was obvious that he was amused, in his own way, at this entire series of events. "I have never undertaken such a task before."
"Anything, eh?" Jim teased, grinning at Spock with that glint in his eyes like he was planning the beginning of a prank war at the Academy. After all, it wasn't the real thing, but the chance to draw the enterprise's curves, even in snow, would be a good step towards doing something about how much he was missing his ship. After all, that was home.
"And yet I've never known the newness of a task to dissuade you, Commander."
"Almost anything," he corrected. Yet, seeing as he was holding the Captain's hand in an abandoned corridor, it might have been easy to drop the qualifier. He trusted Jim, enough to drop some of his own tendencies toward formality. "The newness of the task is not the challenge. Although I've never built a snowman… or snow ship, as it may be, what I have proposed would not be an easy task. It would require time."
"Well, we have time," Jim reminded him. "Lots of time, lots of snow. Not exactly lacking in either of those things, Spock."
He caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and smiled. "Do you see that, Spock?" Jim asked, grinning like a kid at Christmas.
Spock followed the other's gaze, until he saw a rather conspicuously placed plant hanging above them. That the plant had not grown through the layers of rock was obvious, and yet, he didn't understand why a plant would cause such excitement.
"I wasn't aware that you had such an interest in this planet's flora."
"Well, I'm not Sulu, but…" Jim's eyes held a glint that spelled trouble as he tugged Spock under the green plant. "It's mistletoe, Commander, which means I'm required to kiss you." That was all the warning he gave as he wrapped an arm around Spock's waist and drew him close, pressing his lips against the other man's.
Spock didn't have time to process the plant's existence before Jim was kissing him, kissing him in public. It was enough to make Spock want to take two steps backward. Except he didn't. He'd already observed that they'd seen no one for at least five minutes, making this area relatively abandoned, as far as the overpopulated mountain could be considered abandoned. And, as such, he was reasonably certain that no one would notice as he put one hand to Jim's neck and kissed him back.
It was so rare, to get that type of affection from Spock in public, or well, semi-public, that Kirk seized the opportunity. Within moments he had Spock pressed up against the wall, one leg in between Spock's as sought more from the other man. His free hand was braced on the wall as he deepened the kiss, grateful for any excuse to kiss the Vulcan.
The wall brought Spock back to his senses. He pulled away, the back of his head touching cold stone. One hand pressed against Jim's chest, the other still loosely lost in his hair.
"Jim." The name conveyed so much: a warning, affection, desire. Had they been somewhere else, Spock would not have hesitated. And yet, now that they were here, Spock found he didn't necessarily want to let go.
"Spoooccck," Jim replied, drawing out Spock's name in a semi-petulant whine, peppering kisses along Spock's neck as he did so, his hand sliding up under Spock's shirt. He'd stop if Spock, wanted, but there was no harm in pushing his luck, at least a little.
Spock pressed to put distance between them, aware that he needed to be the one to stop this. "Jim, we cannot." His words were soft, but firm.
Jim whimpered as he pulled back, tongue running over swollen lips, resting his forehead against Spock's. "Commander," he purred, the title running of his lips like honey. "There's no one around.."
"Captain," said Spock, more forceful now. The title that was usually a form of endearment between them now held an almost formal reverence, as though Spock could wield their previous positions as leverage between them. He knew better, of course; it was him who held such strict adherence to regulations and duty, not Kirk. "The probability of that remaining so, combined with… Well, I'd go as far to say the odds are not in our favor."
Kirk huffed out a sigh, giving Spock a disappointed look as he took a step back. He didn't intend to make Spock uncomfortable, but it was odd being with someone so reserved when Kirk usually didn't care who knew his business. He did, however, make a note of which corridor they were in. He'd had plans for this mistletoe, yes. He shoved his hands in his pocket and pasted on the trademark Kirk smirk. "So, making the Enterprise out of snow. I'm all for life size, but that would take up a lot of space. Maybe we should just go smaller. Although then it's harder to get all the details down. Oh! What if it was a whole snow ship building activity! Everyone can make their vehicle of choice - I wouldn't mind seeing some of the other space craft." What he wanted, really, was a working Enterprise or at least some sort of shuttle craft.
Spock wanted to reach out and take Kirk's hand again, but he didn't. Instead, he tried to focus on the conversation at hand, and wondered if he had really suggested that they build life-size spaceships.
"I think that would be a worthwhile exercise," he agreed. "It would initiate contact with other individuals who have an interest in space." His eyebrows knitted together in thought. "A temporary solution. I do not think snow is an adequate replacement for the stars."
"Well, of course not, but I mean, have to make do somehow, right?" Jim continued, with the energy of an overgrown puppy. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, because damnit, he missed space. Hard. And even though he tried to think of it as an away mission, it was still enough to drive any man crazy.
"Hopefully we'll have a break in the storms soon and can do some stargazing."
"Indeed," Spock agreed. Although he did not express it in the same way, he, too, missed the depths of space. The Enterprise was as much his home now as it was Jim's, and that loss cut away at him almost as deeply as the loss of his own planet. Almost.
"I think I would like that. On Vulcan, stargazing is usually a scientific pastime."
"Well, we don't even know if they have the same stars here," Jim said, calming down slightly as he slipped his hand into Spock's, needing the comfort of the Vulcan's touch. "So, that part could be scientific. But it doesn't have to be. It could be… comforting. Familiar." Anything to stop him from going insane underground.
"Jim," Spock said the name slowly, carefully, as though the name itself held some singular importance. "I did not mean that it required a logical purpose. Only that in the past… it has had one. It could be, as you say, comforting… Something that we do together."
There was something about Spock's words that made Jim hesitate, stop and study him as though Spock was something new and fascinating. "I'd like that," he said quietly, squeezing his hand.