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green-fifteen · 1 year

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YOTP January: First Kiss, Fake Dating

Title: emotional rollercoaster (of love)

Fandom: Star Trek AOS

Pairing: Kirk/Spock

Word count: 3,761

Written for: @yearoftheotpevent

read on ao3

Jim woke up in a good mood. The stars outside his window were bright. His uniform fit him like a glove in all the right places. He was on the greatest ship in the 'Fleet and his crew were the best in their fields.

It was just that kind of day.

His mood didn't sour throughout the first part of his shift, even when they recieved an urgent communication from the local diplomats of Horace Twelve.

"We cannot beam aboard today," said the attache to the Chief Matriarch. "The Matriarch is not well. I'm afraid you will have to join us on the planet. We apologize for the inconvenience, Captain."

Jim didn't feel inconvenienced. He was looking forward to seeing the place.

He had Spock send him a data packet on surface conditions, then went to fetch his Starfleet-issue parka. He met the rest of the away team on the transporter pad. Uhura, Sulu, Kilroy, and Benison stood waiting for him. He laughed at their puffy coats and furry hoods, then they all beamed down together.

The team from Horace Twelve was supposed to come to the Enterprise to finish negotiations. This was the final day of talks surrounding their admission into the Federation. There was very little left to do and Admiral Komack had already given Jim leave to take any legal action required to come to an agreement. Jim had read the briefing they sent about this little world and thought Starfleet might actually overlook any action taken to secure that much raw dilithium, legal or otherwise. It felt good to have that kind of creative freedom.

They were led to a podium inside a building that reminded him of a breezy open-air temple. It was freezing and the humans (plus Kilroy, a Betazoid on his father's side) instictively huddled close like penguins. Strangely, no one emerged with any paperwork or a list of concerns, as Jim had been expecting. There were really only formalities left to cross off the list.

Instead, the Chief Matriarch herself appeared, towing a younger female Horatian behind her. She led her to stand in front of the podium and then took Jim's hand in her own.

"If you will come with me, Captain Kirk," she intoned gravely. Jim went where she led him, right next to the girl. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but she only cocked her head in a curious movement.

"Captain, the negotations have proceeded well. We are grateful for the work you have done to facilitate our entry into your Federation of Planets. Therefore, before we finish these negotiations, we have decided to give you a gift." Her attache took something from the Matriarch's hand and came toward Jim and the young girl.

Jim was beginning to get a strange feeling about this. He felt the same generosity of spirit and lightness he had upon waking, but now he thought he might need to call Spock.

The attache lifted Jim's hand to place it atop the girl's. Before he could manage, he heard Uhura's voice snap through the silent hall.

"Wait," she called, voice bright with authority. Jim looked at her, smiling a question. She looked back at him with a concerned expression.

"The Captain must consult with his command team before accepting your gift, although it is very generous," she said politely. Jim was tugged away from the podium and a few steps away. "Let us take some time to discuss it."

The Chief Matriarch looked upset. The girl at the podium simply smiled at Jim as he was manhandled away by a grimacing Uhura.

She waited until they were out of earshot to round on him.

"Respectfully, Captain, what do you think you are doing?"

Jim looked to Sulu, whose boggled expression plainly said, No, actually what the hell is wrong with you? Jim almost laughed at the way his eyebrows pinched in like that. Sulu had a very expressive face.

He said, "I was trying to finish up negotiations. So we can all go home." As he said it, it didn't feel quite true. After all, why should he be in a hurry to leave Horace Twelve? Horace Twelve was lovely.

Wind from the open stone doorway dragged his hood away from his face and he hissed at the biting cold.

Uhura wasn't finished. "They were marrying you. Captain. I'm sure you noticed."

Jim had not, in fact, noticed. He looked back at the podium and saw that the attache was holding a pale blue ribbon in one hand. He remembered seeing one just like it in the dossier on Horatian cultural norms and mores. It was protocol for each member of an away team to be familiar with basic things like 'how to avoid getting married by accident' before interacting with a new civilization. Jim laughed to himself about the near-miss. What would he have said to Spock if he'd let himself get hitched on a diplomatic mission? A distant part of his mind remarked that he probably wouldn't find it very funny.

He said, "I think we should call Commander Spock."

+++

The away team stayed on the planet and made reassuring remarks to the Horatians as Spock consulted the admirality on board the Enterprise. Approximately two Standard hours after he recieved Uhura's transmission, he appeared in the doorway to the temple.

He greeted the group with a nod, then said, "Captain."

"Commander," said Jim. He tried to push his pleasure at seeing him into his voice. "Report?"

Spock's eyebrow twitched. "Admiral Komack requests that we use any means necessary to conclude negotiations and secure access to this planet's mining operation. He is aware of the situation, as it stands."

Uhura made an outraged noise. "Is he saying the Captain should go through with this?"

"Perhaps it might be best to discuss the matter with the Horatian Matriarch before making decisions," he remarked, dry as ever.

Discussions did not go well.

They were led to a wide stone table in a different chamber within the temple, where the Enterprise team sat on one side and the Horatians sat on the other. Jim said things like "Terran customs dictate..." and "...happy to find a suitable alternative..." but each time the Matriarch replied with a rebuttal (I'm sure it's the only way. and You insult my fair daughter, Captain. and Shouldn't we unite our cultures for real intergration?) he found himself seriously considering her argument. If he weren't feeling so damn good, he was pretty sure he would be alarmed by that. It was too confusing. Why was he so disoriented?

Not even 10 minutes into talking, he wordlessly pleaded for Spock to take over. Spock caught his look and took control of the conversation. Gratefully, Jim tuned out the Matriarch to watch his First Officer command the attention of the room.

That old feeling bloomed in his chest. The one he'd been very good at ignoring. It was difficult to remember why he hadn't liked feeling it, as he looked at Spock now. Spock was cool, confident, in control. Having him around made Jim feel safe and supported. It didn't make sense to resist him.

Something must have shown on his face, because Kilroy was looking at him strangely. Actually, Kilroy was half Betazoid, right? Maybe he could sense his sudden outpouring of fondness for Spock.

Spock was trying to get his attention by tapping his foot under the table. Jim tapped back, delighted.

"On that point, you are misinformed," Spock said to the Matriarch's attache.

Every head turned to look at Spock, and then at Jim.

In a slow, deliberate movement, Spock lifted Jim's hand to his face and pressed his wrist just under the hinge of his jaw. The air exited Jim's lungs. The rest of the table seemed to be having a similar reaction as Spock placed his own wrist near Jim's left jaw.

He knew what this was, of course he did. Just as the away team knew how to avoid being married, they also knew how to avoid intimate and romantic gestures. This was to prevent anyone getting into the alien planet equivalent of a good old-fashioned bar fight over somebody else's girl. It was not so that first officers could perform them on their unsuspecting captains in the middle of negotiations.

Spock was definitely misusing the cultural dossier. Jim's heart beat much faster than normal.

The Matriarch went an interesting shade of violet.

"This was not disclosed to us in the personnel briefing."

Spock lowered their arms, but didn't let go of Jim's hand.

"Our relationship was deemed irrelevant. We acknowledge the oversight," he said, primly.

Uhura had a resigned expression on her face. Sulu was clearly trying not to laugh. Benison was stoically gazing at them and Kilroy's mouth was doing something strange.

The Matriarch looked stubborn, but her features softened minutely as Spock pulled two fingers across the palm of Jim's captured hand. Jim thought he might faint from bewildered happiness. There was somethng wrong with him. Then again, maybe there was something wrong with Spock. He'd just been Vulcan kissed.

The Horatian Matriarch relented easily after that, allowing them to close discussions the standard way, with signed agreements and such. Her face was back to its usual healthy crimson.

Jim knew that smiling like a love-struck idiot was inadvisable, so he attempted not to. It was very difficult. He could feel Lieutenant Kilroy's eyes on him.

Finally, after what left like an eternity sitting at Spock's side and holding his hand, it was over and they could beam back aboard the Enterprise.

When they reached the transporter room, he removed his parka and pulled his clothes away from his skin where'd he'd sweat into them. It was weirdly quiet when he finished and he looked around to see that no one had done the same. They all still wore their heavy coats and they were all staring at him.

"What?" he asked. He'd been having muzzy thoughts about taking a water shower in his quarters and then passing out, as his shift had ended more than an hour ago. He could see from their faces that he might have to reschedule.

"Spock to Medical," Spock said into his communicator. "Captain Kirk is showing signs of abnormal behavior. I am bringing him to Medbay. Spock out."

Jim blinked and he was being herded toward Medical by Spock.

Bones yelled when he saw him and he knew they were both asking him questions. The lights of Medbay seemed intolerably bright. He didn't remember them being that bright, before.

"Can you say that again?" he said, maybe slurring a little.

Bones scowled in that way of his. It meant I am concerned about you and it's your fault. Jim smiled to see it.

"How do you feel, Jim?" Bones asked. It sounded like it wasn't the first time he'd asked.

Jim thought about the question. How did he feel? Well, he was happy to be with Bones, his best friend. He was happy that Spock had come with him because he was always happy to be around Spock, even if they were just standing around in the Bridge on duty. Especially then. He loved to watch Spock work-- he was brilliant. And he liked it that Spock backed him up whenever he had to make Captain-y judgement calls.

"Great," he said truthfully. There had been some unpleasant business on Horace Twelve, he was pretty sure, but Spock had helped him to take care of it and now they were home on the Enterprise. His eyes were heavy, so he closed them.

He heard Bones and Spock discussing something, maybe asking more questions. He heard a different voice speak up from the door to Medbay.

"Commander Spock. Lieutenant-Commander McCoy," it said. It sounded like Lieutenant Kilroy.

Jim heard "strange reactions" and "projecting all over the place, I didn't mean to invade his privacy." He wanted to tell Kilroy he didn't do anything wrong. Probably. It was Jim who was wrong, right? Something was wrong. His hearing was going wobbly.

Unable to fight the sudden dizzy feeling in his head, he decided to just stop listening.

+++

Jim woke up in a terrible mood. He was in Medbay, which was already awful. On top of that, his head was pounding.

The machines picked up his brain activity and Bones was next to him immediately.

"Gur," Jim croaked. "What the hell happened?"

He checked a readout and shined a light into both of Jim's eyes before answering.

"You were drugged," Bones said tersely. "Flooded up to your eyeballs in happy, suggestible chemicals. I couldn't get you to stop smiling and then you almost cracked your fool head open on the floor in front of me. We're lucky Lieutenant Kilroy was able to tell me your symptoms."

Jim started to remember. They'd beamed down to the planet because the Matriarch said she wasn't well. They'd worn those ridiculous puffy coats. Jim had stood next to someone who he didn't recognize and almost held her hand. Was that a Horatian marriage ribbon? Oh no. The rest of the afternoon played behind his eyelids in perfect clarity. He covered his face.

"Please tell me I'm not actually married to anyone." He could hear how pathetic his voice sounded. He was too busy being embarassed to care.

Bones snorted in an unfriendly way. "Nope. Not married."

Jim dropped his hands from his face to look at him, relieved. Bones only smirked and jabbed something in his neck.

"Your boyfriend is waiting outside to talk to you, however."

Jim hissed and jerked away from him. "Damn it, Bones! Wait, who... Spock?"

The doors opened to admit his first officer, who strode to stand next to the biobed.

"Captain," he said. "Are you well?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I feel like hell."

Spock gave a quick nod. "I am gratified to hear that."

Bones laughed, because he was an asshole.

+++

Obviously, they had to launch an investigation and renegotiate the terms of Horace Twelve's admission into the Federation. Jim was pissed off and already tired.

He let Security deal with the first task and stared gathering crew members to help him with the second. When the Horatians beamed aboard, they were greeted by Jim, Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Kilroy, and Jana, a science officer from Betazed. Spock had instructed Jana to notify Doctor McCoy immediately if she noticed any abnormal changes in mood among the Enterprise group. Kilroy was told to monitor Captain Kirk, specifically. Jim rankled and ordered him to also include Spock in his observations.

They'd had a moment of eye contact after that, Jim thinking I'm right at him and Spock giving nothing away, as usual. Jim had looked away first, unable to stop remembering the feeling of his fingers on his palm whenever he saw him. If he wasn't careful, he knew it would distract him all day, and they needed to be alert. He resolved to keep a careful distance and to minimize eye contact with Spock. For his own sanity.

His plan was promptly ruined when the Matriarch took one look at them, standing stiffly next to the transporter pad and said, "Ah, the lovers." She sounded sardonic. Jim could hear Komack's voice in his head saying "The dilithium, Kirk. I want you to woo that planet." Resigned, he smiled at her and moved closer to his First Officer.

Jim's mood only got worse as discussions progressed. There wasn't much to be learned from them that Security hadn't already gleaned in their initial interviews. Apparently, the drug they'd given Jim was always given to a bride or groom the night before a wedding to ease their nerves. According to the Matriarch, wedding celebrations on Horace Twelve could last anywhere from 3 weeks to 2 Standard months. The dose they'd given him would have lasted a Horatian an entire week and would not have affected them so intensely, but they hadn't accounted for Jim's human metabolism. It was that kind of carelessness that earned planets fourteen extra contract clauses.

Spock was keeping up their romantic charade admirably, but Jim knew he was making it difficult. Spock stayed by his side at the table during each session of talks. He touched his wrist when he referred to him. As they filed out of the room during breaks, Spock ostentatiously lifted his hand for Jim to rest two fingers there. If it weren't so painful, it would be sickening.

There was a weird tightness in his chest as he thought about Kilroy sitting on his other side, listening in on his emotions. Could he sense the way Jim's heart kicked up when Spock looked at him? Did he know that Jim's skin felt electrified just before Spock put his fingers on him? That feeling he had been unable to supress on the planet-- it was back. It was like letting it loose had only made it stronger. Like letting himself feel it only made it more difficult to stop. He did his best to push it away and out of reach of empaths and touch telepaths. Oh God, could Spock feel it? Jim was sure he wouldn't violate his privacy on purpose, but that wasn't as reassuring as it should have been. What had Kilroy said the day before? He'd been 'projecting all over the place.' Was that just because of the drug? Was he still projecting now?

When they resumed the discussion after the midday break, Jim couldn't stop himself from flinching away every time Spock reached to touch him. He didn't meet his eyes. Spock must have noticed, because he stopped finding Jim's wrist on the table top. When the final session ended and the Horatians had beamed back down to the planet, he only put a hand briefly on Jim's shoulder before he strode away.

Jim clenched his eyes shut and told Uhura he had a headache. Kilroy said nothing.

In the evening, after his shift, Jim decided to work through his goddamn emotions. He considered taking a page out of Spock's book and meditating in his quarters, but he was a restless kind of upset. He didn't think he would even be able to start the breathing exercises before he was up again, pacing. Instead, he walked to the observation deck.

+++

Seeing the stars like this always made him feel weirdly at home. It hadn't made sense to Bones when he mentioned it to him. He'd just named ten different kinds of viral infection he could catch in space and called him an idiot.

But maybe being born in space meant he belonged there. Then again, maybe he just inherited it from his mother.

He wasn't alone for long before he heard someone sidle up to him. A quick glance showed him Spock, buttoned up and straight-backed. He was looking out the window.

"I apologize," he said. Jim's whole body twitched and he started to protest.

"I apologize," Spock said, holding up a hand to quiet him. "For my actions on the planet."

Jim stopped, confused. His actions on the planet?

"I wish to be honest with you, Captain." He knew Spock well enough to see the tension in his muscles. "There was a 73.7 per cent probability that the situation involving the Matriarch's daughter could have been resolved satisfactorily in another way. However, I chose the most efficient option, not anticipating that it would cause you discomfort. For that, I apologize."

Jim's eyebrows bunched together. "What's done is done, Spock," he told him. "It's probably for the best that you lied to them. I was just a few minutes away from having my fainting spell."

"Twenty-one point two one minutes," Spock corrected.

"Exactly. Any longer at that table, I might not have been able to make it back to the Enteprrise by myself."

"I would have carried you back."

Jim blinked. "But I'm glad you didn't. That would be too embarassing, especially on a diplomatic mission like this."

Spock looked even more rigid. "Indeed."

They stood together and watched the darkness outside the hull. Jim could feel the balloon of emotions rising to the surface and held it down desperately.

"I know it probably made you uncomfortable today, having to touch me so much. Vulcans aren't big on PDA, right?"

Jim saw Spock incline his head out of the corner of his eye. "In general, no, Vulcans do not engage in affectionate displays."

There was a moment of silence.

"I was not, however, uncomfortable."

Jim looked at Spock and Spock turned toward him. "I'm--" Jim started.

Spock interrupted him. "I had no indication that you would lose consciousness on Horace Twelve and thus there was little need for haste, when I made the decision to decieve the Chief Matriarch."

He looked down. Jim stared at the top of his First Officer's head.

"I am a touch telepath. According to every precept of logic, I should not have chosen to touch your hands or kiss you in the Vulcan manner. Nevertheless, I did." He gazed at the observation window again.

"It did not displease me to touch you, Captain."

Jim couldn't say anything. He didn't want to leave Spock hanging after what was clearly an emotional confession, but he was having an internal crisis. The balloon was rising faster than he could stop it and he held onto it for dear life, trying not to blurt something stupid before he fully understood what was happening.

"Do you--" he cleared his throat. "What do you mean, exactly?"

He hoped he knew. He didn't think he could hold on very much longer.

"When you fell to the ground in Medbay, before Lieutenant Kilroy informed us of the situation, I was... emotional. I was reminded of your most recent loss of consciousness."

The last time he'd, what? Passed out? That must have been after... oh. Had it really only been a year since Khan? Jim remembered the feeling the cold glass warming under his and Spock's hands. He remembered Spock had called him his friend. His friend.

"Although it was illogical, I felt regret, that I had not told you of my regard before I kissed you on the planet. I was determined to rectify the situation when you woke."

Jim was losing his grip. "Regard, Spock?" he asked, softly. "What are you telling me?"

His eyes lifted to find Jim's. "I am in love with you."

Jim's smile felt like instinct. He moved closer to Spock and took his hand. The feeling in his chest started to leak out and he didn't stop it. He kissed him instead.

+++

The next morning, during the first break in meetings, Kilroy submitted a warning to Doctor McCoy.

It read:

Notice-- CPT Kirk and CDR Spock way too happy. Please advise.

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