Pick a Song #1 - Take My Breath Away by Berlin
for @between-stars-and-enterprise a spirk drabble inspired by "take my breath way" by berlin.
because my brain is a maze of incomprehensible turns and multiple exits, the first thing i thought of when i saw the song title was "top gun" and all i could remember about that movie was that the gorgeous woman may have been a teacher to the hotshot pilot (idek if this is true??) and i thought of spock teaching jim something, then i looked up the lyrics to make sure i remembered them well enough, and got stuck on the line "if only for today, i am unafraid" then this drabble (or, really, longer than a drabble, oops) happened!
it's all fluff. nothing but fluff.
Jim sets down an apple on the corner of the lectern then takes his seat at the table in the front row.
While he remains the captain in this conference room turned classroom, he won’t be in charge today - that illustrious honor belongs to his highly competent XO.
Spock lifts his gaze from his padd and, upon spotting the red fruit, inclines one svelte eyebrow in question.
“It’s an old Earth custom to give a teacher an apple,” Jim explains.
“Solely this specific type of fruit or any other?”
“What was the origin of this type of gift?”
Jim hesitates, accesses the recesses of his memory and comes back blank. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“Then I must conclude it is an illogical custom.”
“And yet, delicious. That one’s real not replicated - from a bag I picked up at the last starbase. Don’t waste it.”
The corner of Spock’s lips twitch. “Is that an order, Captain?”
Jim tsks. “You’re the one in charge, Mr. Spock.”
Spock begins the lecture, immediately commanding the attention of the fifty-ish crew who have gathered to hear the most recent updates to Starfleet landing party procedures. Jim tries to pay attention, he really does, but he’s well-aware that he’s going to ignore most (all) of the official procedures the second circumstances deem it, and his time here today is much better utilized cataloging every inch of his first officer.
Appropriate? No, not at all. But a better use of his time? Without a doubt.
While he can’t quite force himself to listen to the substance of the lecture, the dulcet baritone of Spock’s voice rolls over him pleasantly. He appreciates the grace with which Spock moves between the lectern and the viewscreen - long legs, narrow hips, the fit of science blues over a well-formed chest and arms. Spock points to a block of dense, dreadfully boring regulation text on the viewscreen and Jim loses himself in the twist of Spock’s wrist, imagines those elegant fingers against his skin.
Jim clears his throat, stations his elbows on the table and decides to pay attention. It’s time to focus on something else.
Spock is a good teacher, engaging and patient, and Jim’s heart squeezes with adoration as the supposedly bland Vulcan keeps over fifty people hanging on his every word. The material is dry, yet Spock interjects stories from previous missions and invites others to participate. The first wry joke Spock cracks, Jim is the only one who dares to laugh. Ten minutes later, Spock has the entire room snickering. It’s all rather…endearing.
Because of course it would be.
Most people see Spock’s ears and eyebrows and make all kinds of assumptions. But the reality of Spock is much more Human than Spock would ever admit, much more saucy than Bones knows how to deal with, and so rebellious that Spock can make the James T. Kirk look tamed.
Jim may just be a little bit in love with him.
Spock catches his eyes and Jim gazes back with a smile meant just for his XO. He has to be completely obvious in the moment, but he can’t find the will to care. It’s not as if it’s the first time and it most definitely won’t be the last.
Every look he gives Spock is an invitation extended that he shouldn’t want Spock to accept. It’s safe because he knows that Spock never will.
But that’s okay. Because if this is all they ever are - friends, confidants, chess partners, brothers in arms - then Jim’s life is more complete than he thought it could be. The life of a starship captain can be painfully solitary and Spock’s ever-present presence at his side ensures it’s not.
“The lecture has concluded.”
Jim starts, glances around the room to find he’s the only crew member remaining. He has no chance of concealing the flush on his cheeks when he meets Spock’s eyes again.
“Is there further clarification you seek, Captain? I am available for the next twelve minutes to answer questions.”
Will you marry me?, he thinks.
Spock accepts that with the hint of a nod then heads toward the lectern. He shuts off the viewscreen, picks up his padd, then palms the apple.
“Captain,” Spock says. “Thank you for the gift. I find it is most appropriate as it reminds me of you.”
Jim remains in his seat, curiosity getting the better of him. He rests his arms on the table and clasps his hands together. “And how is that, Mr. Spock?”
Spock takes two steps forward, until he’s standing in front of Jim - a table and an apple between them.
“It brings to mind a Terran colloquialism my mother was fond of saying - you are the apple of my eye.”
Important. Viewed with affection. Cared for.
Jim isn’t sure about the origins of that either, but the meaning is crystal clear.
“As you are for me,” he admits.
Spock leans down then and Jim has a mere fraction of a second to realize that Spock is going to kiss him before Spock’s lips are actually against his. It’s a shock of much colder skin first, then softness, then an electric heat that starts at his lips and zings through his entire body.
When Spock inches back, Jim can’t quite breathe.
“Have dinner with me tonight?” he asks.
He sounds just as breathless as he is. He can’t dredge up an ounce of shame for that one.
Spock holds up the apple, his oh-so-Human eyes dancing with sauciness, rebelliousness, and mirth.
