Spock would never notice the glances Jim would shoot him whenever they were on the bridge; just the subtle looks whenever the Vulcan seemed to be thoroughly in thought over a minor spectacle or some change which had him running confused over the matter. It was the way those brows bunched up over his forehead that Jim found himself attracted to, wanting nothing more than to soothe his hands across the creases.
Thankfully, the bridge mostly emptied out.. just the two of them manning their stations; Captain and his Commander. Jim bit into his apple, chair swiveling to watch Spock contemplate on their recent failed mission. Apparently, the supposedly M-Class planet held nothing recognizable to an M-Class planet. Though, watching the guy fret and thin those lips, Jim felt the need to help support the guy in some way.
He rose from his chair as silently as possible, creeping over to the Vulcan, and leaned in, meaning to catch a kiss on the forehead, misguided, and caught an eye instead.
"Shit," he muttered with a laugh. "Sorry--"
