#lets be honest nothing hits like those first rays of sunshine after the winter

[hannahssimblr]

There is heat. Actual heat on my skin.

While Jen and I amble along the edge of St. Stephen’s Green I'm dimly aware that she’s saying something, and really, I should be listening because it is her birthday and she deserves my undivided attention, but the sun has just appeared from behind a building and for the first time in months I am experiencing its warmth on the side of my face. Months of dark, wet gloom have almost made me forget what this feels like. It’s a familiar rush, actually… MDMA. Yes. That’s what it's like.

“Are you listening to me?” She says accusingly, and she snaps sharply into focus. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Well then what did I just say?”

“Um,” I peer around for clues. It is the fourteenth of March. The shops and restaurants surrounding the park have begun to put cheery little shamrocks in their windows, and the Shelbourne Hotel has hung tricolour flags up above the grand doorway. We squeeze in close to the iron railings to allow a slow moving crowd of Canadian tourists with fluffy green Viking hats, and Guinness t-shirts under their coats pass by. “Uh, you were saying that you hate St. Patrick’s day.”

She scoffs, “Um, well, I do hate St. Patrick’s day, it’s gimmicky, but that’s not at all what I was saying,” she makes a swing for my arm and I manage to dodge her, “I can’t believe you weren’t listening to me on my birthday.”

“I’m listening now, sorry, sorry…” The sunshine glints between a gap in the bud laden branches overhead and I squint against it. God, that really is nice…

 “...driving me kind of crazy, like, honestly, if we could even talk about something else for a minute…”

Oh, shit. I focus really intently on what she’s saying. “Michelle,” I announce triumphantly, “This is about Michelle.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yes. Of course. If someone could enact a ban on her going on and on about Evan all of the time, it’s like, Evan this, Evan that, ‘Evan is so sweet, he’s just not like those other boys’…”

I snicker, “Oh, they’re just in love. Don’t be such a misery guts.”

“Yeah, nobody goes on about it as much as them. I get it. It’s been like, six months now can they not just cool it?” She heaves out a sigh, “And I’m just saying, I’m not a selfish person, right?”

“Nuh uh, never.”

“But if we meet them in a minute and all they do is gaze lovingly into each other's eyes I’m going to be mad, okay? I’m going to be fully upset about it. It’s my birthday. They can bloody think of things to say to me.”

I sling my arm around her as we amble through the gates of the park. The spring flowers are in full bloom now, and the smiling faces of the daffodils beam up at us from the borders along the path. “Of course they’ll make a fuss about you, Jenny, they’re not monsters. Yeah, they’re full on with the PDA and talking about their big feelings but they love you and they’ll want your birthday to be special.”

“Well, good,” she says primly, “This is my one day.”

“They’ll have me to answer to if they don’t behave.”

“Ooh, big scary Jude,” she giggles, “Will you shove them in a locker or flush their heads down the toilet?”

“I never did that to anyone!” I elbow her gently in the ribs, “who do you think I am?”

“Like I don’t remember the breast-pocket-ripping rampage you went on in first year!”

We’re both tittering as we round the gentle curve of the path and are assaulted by the sight of Michelle and Evan in the grass by the Pavillion, lying horizontal and open mouthed kissing each other. I gasp and shield Jen’s eyes with my hand. 

“Ugh! No! Too late, I’ve seen them,” She cries, and I spin her around to me and get into her eye line instead so that she has something appealing to look at instead. “Do you think it’s too early in the year for ice cream?”

“No,” she says. “Are you gonna buy me some?”

“Yeah, as many scoops as you want. Maybe when we come back those two will have finished their little performance.”

“Ugh, yes please. How do you always know what I want before I do?”

I shrug, “talent.”

“Jude Turner,” She shakes her head as we walk towards the exit together, “you're such a friend to women.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[alwaysanotherooc]

When Winter Reaches Vaanu

Prompt: The above song, Holland by Novo Amor. Thank you @hollyashton and @jessicamckenzie for hosting this week of Choices Creates! Rating: T to be safe, but not really necessary. Warnings: Sad and lots of pining. Fandoms: Endless Summer Characters: Prince Varyyn, Diego Ortiz Soto. Pairings: One sided Varyyn/Diego Ortiz Soto Description: Made for Round 20 of Choices Creates. Varyyn thinks on how he wishes he could have said goodbye to Diego, as they watch Sharktooth Isle grow smaller and smaller as they sail away.

Varyyn POV

His eyes were beautiful. 

That had been my first coherent thought upon meeting Diego. Those eyes that were the exact shade of the amber we used in our weapons, the same shade of the amber of the Idols. But his eyes...they were not cold or cruel mockeries of fate.

They were warm. They were kind. 

And they were sad, but that sadness was well hidden. He hid it behind bright smiles and easy laughter, that somehow he still meant with all of his heart. 

Diego was...fascinating. He made jokes I didn’t understand but still found amusing, he rolled his eyes at Seraxxa and indulged every whim Uqzhaal came to him with, no matter how trivial. And he mourned his friends, the other Catalysts, with such passion and such a look of deep agony that even Seraxa hadn’t asked him about their location again.

I knew that look he buried beneath his smiles and his laughter, that look of loss and hurt that could barely be comprehended. I’d felt it before as well. 

I hated to admit it but in the next few months, I allowed myself to get attached to Diego. I let myself...grow close with him. Laugh at his jokes and his whispered comments about Seraxa. I let him tell me about his friends, and for the first time I understood why they acted the way they did, and it had hit me that the Catalysts were not gods after all...

Just twelve people who had no idea what had been awaiting them when they came to Vaanu. They were simply people who were scared for their lives and for the lives of their friends. 

Diego spoke of them more and more often as time marched onward, although he only ever did so with me, late at night after our lessons in English. His eyes grew hazy and soft and...beautiful.

Love will do that to a person’s eyes. It makes them beautiful.

The months had dragged on and his smiles became more frequent, stronger, his laughs longer and more honest, and I ignored the glances my mother sent my way when he reached for me while learning about our history, about his own fate and legacy.

I ignored the hum of pleasure and the soft glow of happiness that came whenever Diego turned to me to share a new discovery, a new idea or thought, his eyes bright and wide and almost happy.

I pushed away the thoughts that crept into my head late, late at night as I lay sleeping in my own bed. Thought’s of Diego’s hands, his mouth, the way he moved, the sound of his voice when he whispered, the scent he carried that was purely his, the way the sunlight of Vaanu seemed to curve around his skin like an embrace. The beautiful hue of his eyes lingered in my thoughts for hours at night.

He began to haunt my every breath, lingering in my mind without reprieve, a ray of hopeful sunshine that warmed my entire being in a way I had never known I needed. I lived for every moment his eye met mine, every word he spoke to me, only to me, every single brush of his fingers against my skin, and every moment where he forgot himself and laughed, long and hard, head thrown back in glee.

I never let myself reach for him in that way, because he was not mine to crave or desire, he was a Catalyst and a possible bringer of destruction for my people’s way of life. It was not right to think of him as often as I did, to dream of him the way I did when I awoke in the middle of the night, panting and sweating with his name on my lips and the dream of his skin beneath my hands causing my heart to thunder in my chest. 

I knew it was twisted to desire him, a captive under my hold, and so I made no advances, and I said nothing and ignored Seraxa’s narrowed eyes and my mother’s own forceful gaze when he was near.

He was not...it would never have been right to voice any of the confused and tangled and...loving thoughts he invoked in me. So I kept silent and let him heal from his hurt and his pain.

Seeing him reunited with his friends had been both ecstasy and agony, for I knew what came next, and I couldn’t bear to be torn from him by death or exile, and yet his eyes shone with such relief and joy at seeing his friends again that I could not begrudge them their reunion.

We took the Catalysts to Sharktooth Isle, and as I stood looking into Diego’s beautiful amber eyes, I found desperation clawing at my gut, the words last chance ringing over and over and over again in my head.

But it was not right to push these feelings onto him, without even taking into consideration the fact I had just banished him and his friends into exile. So I merely forced a smile, clasped his shoulder and turned back from the boats before I forgot myself.

And as the boat sailed away, Uqzhaal’s eyes still locked onto the retreating island, I did not let myself look back, did not let the pain show on my face.

Diego was gone and now it was too late.

I let the others guide the boat back to the shore and imagined, for a single moment, what it would have been like.

To instead take Diego’s face in my hands and seal my lips to his, to feel him under my hands, to hold him against me, our arms wrapped tightly around one another. What it would have been like to press my adoration and passion into his skin, to whisper my...my love...

I blinked and let the image float away.

Diego was gone and it was too late.

Uqzhaal sighed, and I looked over at him.

He looked tired, and old, like the world had suddenly gotten much harder.

Which, actually, it had.

Uqzhaal spoke, his voice somewhat startling in the silence of the evening, “There is always snow.”

“What do you mean?” I questioned softly.

Uqzhaal looked back at me, eyes unfooled and sad. “When times are painful. There is always snow when times are painful.”

Uqzhaal pointed up towards the mountains, laid heavy with white snow that shone even in the dark of the night. “And this, my Prince, is winter.”

I said nothing and tried not to think of amber eyes and skin loved by the sun.

“Winter has come to Vaanu, my Prince. I think times are going to become more painful before they ease.” Uqzhaal’s voice was softer now.

He looked back towards Sharktooth Isle. “But I do not think we are the ones in danger of this pain.” As he turned back, his eyes caught on me, and he paused. “Well...not for most of us at least.”

I looked down at the blade at my side, the amber glinting in the moonlight, and the ever-present memory of Diego’s eyes haunting me. 

That was the awful thing about when you loved someone. They were always so beautiful, and it was always painful.

[jeonggukingdom]

Depiction of Love; 1. A monster like me

▽ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

▽ Genre:  Angst | drabble series (vampire!AU)

▽ Summary:  The very depiction of love, a kiss, can be given in a rush before leaving the house or with indubitably different intentions in the corner of a crowded room but it is always a silent secret held between the lips of the receivers, the lovers, the couple. It is always different, as different as the feelings buoying around it are for, its peculiarity, is the lack of voidness. 

▽ Prompt: "We can never be together” kiss. 

▽ Word Count: 1.627 words

▽ AN: basically I just fell in love with a drabble game about kisses (here) and I just couldn’t resist making a series out of it. To be honest I’m not sure if I’m going to do all the kisses but I have an idea for at least half of the list. This was started on a mere impulse so I’m not sure myself how the updates are going to go since I’m currently working on other (many) projects.

The first scent he detects is the one of Douglas fir – the ginger wood of which her house is made of and that smells so much like home to him, now – and he automatically speeds up, his whole being pushing him beyond his limits so he can hold her in his arms and chase all his demons away.

It’s their last night together, he knows that and he really shouldn’t be this eager to see her but, the only thought of touching her, even one last time, is enough to make his feet hit the concrete floor at a speed not deemed possible for any human being.

He inhales deeply, his whole body stirring when he catches the whiff of cinnamon tea, a scent that seems to embed into her so much so he can always taste it in her mouth.

He stops altogether because there she is, in all her mundane beauty: her long hair is tucked safely behind her ear, her eyes are focused on the book in her hands and her bottom lip is trapped under her teeth into an almost painful vise. She is, by far, the utmost beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on and, undoubtedly, the only one that was capable of conquering his non-beating heart.

His steps are soundless as he approaches her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he curtails their distance, trying to imprint every detail of her face in his memory so he can remember her forever just the way she is now: healthy, beautiful, alive.

“You look lovely tonight”, his voice is soft as he says so, careful not to scare her and make her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s would, but that chariness is not enough because she jumps in her seat nonetheless, the little screech that escapes her mouth eliciting a grin to appear on his features.

“You scared the living shit out of me!”, she hoots in utter outrage, her small hand clasping her heart into a melodramatic gesture.

“I missed you”, he purposely ignores her words and lifts her from the chair ― her weight close to one of a feather in his supernatural hands ― just so he can wrap his arms around her and keep her so close to his own body until he can’t discern their boundaries anymore and he is free to breathe in the perfume lodged in the curve of her neck and between her hair.

A satisfied sigh escapes his lips once the scent of her surrounds him completely, numbing anything else around them and finally putting to a rest is overworked mind and overstimulated senses.

“I missed you too, Yoongi”, her voice is soft, almost like butter, and it’s so mild he can almost feel his skin warming up like it used to when he was still a living creature.

He doesn’t know for how long he holds her like this, time only an ephemeral constant for him since he holds the whole eternity in his hands, and it is only when he’s fully content that he lets go of her, his insides twitching as he does so because he has to say those dreaded words he avoided for far too long.

“We have to talk”, if they would have been even one foot further away she wouldn’t have been able to hear him but, unfortunately, she does.

“About?”, her voice is strangled, her body already shaking like a leaf in the winter wind, and he can’t stop himself from cupping her face, bringing back some comfort when she’s so obviously afraid of what he’s about to say.

“We have to end this”, the pain he feels spreads like poison from the center of his chest to the rest of his entire body numbing his limbs, constricting his throat, almost making him gag on the foul taste in his mouth.

The tears are quick to trace her features, the warmness of her pain getting caught between his fingers.

He wants more than anything in the world to erase that pain, to take it all away, all to himself, and leave her with nothing but happiness and content but, sadly, he cannot because he is the main reason behind all of it and he couldn’t hate himself more than he does in this very moment.

“No”, her voice trembles as a sob menaces to choke her, her hands gripping his shirt so tight her knuckles turn white.

“We can’t be together”, he chokes on his words, the pain burning him to his very core, “You know we can’t.”

They talked about this before and yet she always managed to persuade him into ignoring the unwritten laws of his own kind but he can’t do that any longer, he just can’t turn his head the other way around anymore.

Her bottom lip quivers, the pain twisting her features turning her into a portrayal of pure grief.

He keeps caressing her face in a vain attempt to soothe her because the sight of all the ache he is causing is pure torture and, even though he knows he deserves it, all he can do is close his eyes and try to erase the image of her in this moment: shattered, with tears on her cheeks and wrenching pain in her heart all because of him.

Her lips suddenly touch his own and against his better judgment he opens his mouth for her, allowing her tongue to slip in, his heighten senses immediately catching up on that cinnamon flavor she seems to be embodied with.

When they kiss, it feels like pure electricity running in his veins, filling up his entire being with sparks and fluttering butterflies. His skin gets covered in goosebumps as she desperately kisses him with all the love she’s capable of and it almost brings Yoongi to his knees because how is he supposed to turn his back on this? How is he supposed to believe that a love like this is not supposed to be possible, conceivable?

“Turn me”, she whispers against his swollen lips, her voice firm as she asks for the hundredth time what she has been denied for so long.

“No,” his answer is always the same and she will never understand why he’s not willing to make her into a monster. Because that’s what he is: a soulless monster that feeds on other people lives. A parasite. And she’s just too good and too pure to be turned into something so evil and cursed. He doesn’t want to tarnish her soul and make her rot for the whole eternity. He loves her too much to trap her into an everlasting inferno.

“Why not?!” She screams now, pushes him, punches him right in the chest and even if it hurts, there’s a part of him that rejoices in the fact that she may be able to hate him soon, after all, and leave the memory of him behind her for good.

“Don’t you love me?”, she cries and yells and begs until she has not an ounce of strength left in her body to keep fighting.

“I love you more than it should be possible”, he whispers, catching her before she falls to the hard ground, “Especially for a monster like me”.

Isn’t it a paradox for an evil creature to be able to love and care for someone? Shouldn’t he be excluded from all feelings mundane?

“Then why?” Her broken whisper makes his insides twitch painfully, the sound of her frantic heartbeat reaching his enhanced hearing.

“You deserve better than an eternity tinted with blood.”

If only the rules were different, if only they could be together just like this, for as long as her life would allow them to be, he would stay, oh, if he would.

But they are doomed to be just like the moon and the sun: he’s stuck in the realm of the night while she lives and strives under the sun; their interactions brief because mother nature doesn’t allow otherwise.

“Be happy, ____.” his lips touch her forehead one last time before he runs away, like the coward he is, not allowing her to even say her goodbye because he knows, if he stays a bit longer he may actually cave in and indulge in the hope of being able to be together with her a bit longer.

He hides in the darkness of the forest and watches her crumble before his eyes, the tears flooding from her beautiful eyes now that there is nothing to stop them, her sobs so wrenching they push him on the verge of running to her multiple times.

He doesn’t know for how long she cries, whispering his name, clutching her heart in pure pain, but he’s forced to leave when the first rays of sunshine start to hit the ground.

It’s not an easy task to get away from her, to finalize his decision, but he does it because, for once, he’s not being selfish. Yes, he did the right thing. For her. He did the right thing.

Copyright © 2017 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. 

[fearlessinspace]

Summary: three cute spirk stories for all you avid spirk shippers out there!!

Notes: a #stnetworkge gift for @lucifermoaningstar (tho from @tiberivs-kirk​)

Word count: 3865

He was leaning on his forearms, his weight entirely held by the steel base of the bar. There was no need for a bar stool – he spent just enough time in his life sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge. His baby blue eyes were on the half full glass in front of him, yet his mind was elsewhere. While unconsciously drawing circles on the previously unstained glass, his mind was simultaneously analyzing the ruby shade of the drink in his glass and the now apparent creases on the skin of his forehead.

The drink was intense, like it had a personality of its own. Russian, and feisty. Dammit, Chekov.

What was the average number of years of service for a Starfleet captain anyways? Pike was one for a while. For quite a long time, actually. But his situation was different. Christopher Pike was a captain because he was simply born to be one. He was respected, honorable, intelligent, brave – everything a commander in the fleet could ask for. Kirk? He joined on a dare.

Déjà vu.

But it was indeed true. He wanted nothing more than to be better than his father ever was. Like winning a challenge. His primary aim was victory in this absurd, non-existent competition and coming out on top. And all of this nonsense was fueled by arrogance and narcissism, but at the same time loneliness and a desperate need for attention. All he ever wanted was approval.

His gaze and train of thoughts were broken by the sound of the doors to the empty bar sliding open. James’s eyes moved to the glass first, just for him to find out that he’d been out of it for so long that the ice cubes melted. So much for whiskey on the rock.

Just a moment later, he moved them to the slim and awfully familiar figure at the door. He smiled at the forever serious-looking man, warmth instantly filling his insides at the sight of those chocolate eyes, greenish skin and signature spiked ears. There was something about this man that always managed to relieve the stress. Still in his usual cerulean blue uniform, Spock approached the captain after acknowledging his nod, a sign of approval for him to intrude on captain’s personal hours off.

“Good evening, Mr Spock.” He said lightheartedly. “What bring you to this lovely bar tonight?”

As per usual, not even a smirk from the Vulcan. “Good evening Jim. As a result of my personal and the crew’s observation, today you seemed, according to human vernacular, off.”

Kirk wordlessly stared at the man across from him while downing the remains of his drink, waiting for him to finish.

“It appears that you’re not fully being your usual self. Therefore, I’m here to see what is not right.”

Smiling, Jim carefully placed the now empty glass back on the coaster and looked back up at his beloved first officer, barely able to keep his laughter at bay.

“So, as I see it, my feelings are hurt and the crew decides to make you come and check on me.” He stepped away from the bar and walked back to the cooler to take out the bottle full of scotch he’d previously been drinking. “Was this Bones’ idea? Sounds a lot like him.”

Spock watched calmly as the captain walked back to his spot and began pouring the liquid, way over the usual amount. “I’ve come here on my own accord.”

At his words, Kirk stopped pouring and looked up, straight into Spock’s eyes, his gaze literally screaming ‘are you serious’.

“I am quite serious Jim.”

Kirk looked down on his drink, a bit embarrassed at himself for reacting the way he did. Though, that’s not exactly why his cheeks were getting redder by the minute.

“My apologies, Mr Spock. It was not my intention.”

Having given up the usual Vulcan act for a moment, Spock effortlessly fashioned a genuine smile, at which Kirk’s eyes significantly widened.

“As you already know, no offence taken. What is it, however, that makes you feel like this Jim?”

James was aware that Spock was usually anything but a shoulder to cry on, but sensed something changed in the man in front of him. Spock was no therapist, but Jim knew that he could rely on him no matter what.

He sighed and spoke with traces of hope in his voice. “I’ll be honest with you Spock. It’s been almost 10 years since I first sat in that chair, on this ship, with all these people. We’d been through so many missions, exploring the endlessness that is space, and all of you people – you’re my family. But I’m not sure I’m still fit to do this job, Spock. Yeah, it’s true, I almost left this ship for good once before, but this is different. I feel like I’m slower than I used to be, like I can’t handle the things that space throws at us on a daily basis.”

“Captain, if you’re referring to you physical condition, both you, Dr McCoy and I are very well aware that you’re more than capable to do your job properly.”

Kirk’s smile has faded. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Spock. I’m responsible for everybody on this ship. And the people I hold the closest to my heart are included. That includes you, Spock. If I mess up one little detail because of my newfound insecurities, all of you could die. And I cannot afford that.”

Spock knew that what he was about to do next was far off from his usual gestures, but it was only logical. Only necessary.

Jim Kirk could only gasp after Spock walked around the bar and wrapped his arms around him. His arms applied light pressure, just enough to relieve any tension left in Jim. Despite the usual coldness of Vulcans’ blood, James could feel only warmth and comfort, consolation and genuine love. The fact that Spock cared was never obvious, but everybody was aware of the fact that he did. However, it was never displayed with such clarity, not until then.

After realizing that Spock was not even close to letting go, Jim wrapped his arms tightly around the slightly taller man, returning the favor. He leaned closer to him and placed his jaw on Spock’s shoulder, closed his eyes and let out a single tear.

It’s amazing just what simple human contact can do for a person. So, there they were; two grown men holding each other in a bittersweet embrace, frozen in time, overthrown with emotion – pure human.

Aware that that was more human than anything he’d done ever before in his life, Spock wasn’t going to break the streak, not yet.

“Jim, whatever you decide, know that it is only logical that you have all of our support and affection.”

James nodded silently, admitting to himself that he wasn’t yet ready to leave his life behind. Especially not the man in front of him.

His warm brown eyes snapped open, hit directly with a stray beam of morning sunshine peeking through the shades. Those light rays were a usual sign of the ending of winter in San Francisco, which meant spring was knocking on the door.

Spring. His significant other’s favorite time of the year. The time when birds started singing, so his loved one could hum along with them; the time when flowers, colored with all the shades of the spectrum, blossomed and filled the air with that familiar hint of sweetness; the time when grass grew tall and green and when the air’s temperature significantly raised.

It took him just a moment more to realize that that significant other was laying right there beside him, his arms wrapped around the Vulcan’s waist, head leaning where a human’s liver would be, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat.

Daisies. James Kirk’s favorite.

It had been no more than a week, and Spock still had trouble adjusting to the fact that he may never again sleep alone. Spock is a man of organization, logic and routine – by now he’d already be up and about, finishing work that needs to be done.

It appeared, however, that things had changed.

Spock used to cook only for himself. Now, he either has to cook for two or will be greeted with a home-cooked meal. His closed used to be filled only with blue uniforms. Not much space was additionally taken up, but suddenly there were golden uniforms, too. Sometimes, he’d spend lonely nights, walking around town, secluded with his own mind. Now, it appears, there’s always company. He’d always sleep alone, and sometimes nights were cold. It seems, now, that he’ll never be cold again. He did not mind sharing body warmth for such a longs period of time, and it was strange to him. Like he was surprised by his own mind and body.

His routine had been broken. But, for the first time, he did not mind.

Careful not to wake him up, Spock moved his hand and placed it on Jim’s head, unconsciously playing with the long golden locks. He twisted them around, intrigued by the softness of the man’s strands. His eyes moved from the ceiling to Jim; they were scanning his position, the toned muscles on his arms and back, the scars left from countless encounters with unfriendly strangers of space. His body moved on par with their paired heartbeats. It eradiated heat – a thing which Spock could get used to more easily than others.

Spock was snapped out of his observation more by a silent moan, definitely coming from the man next to him.

“Mmm. Spock?” he mumbled into the Vulcan’s skin.

“Good morning Jim. Feeling well?”

“Definitely.”

The blond man rolled away from his partner and stretched, letting out sounds which resembled moaning – something Spock found rather strange. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, James rolled back around onto his stomach and almost climbed up to face the slightly older man. His steely blue eyes scanned Spock’s face, finding no specific feature showing emotion other than a slight curve to his lips. A pair of hands reached up from Kirk’s lower back, across his sides, all the way to the shoulder blades and the crooks of his neck. He took his liberty and lowered down, planting a long, loving kiss on the man’s soft lips. Seeing that his high cheekbones turned a light shade of green, a smug smile took over as he bent down to his neck, starting with light nibbles on the thin skin and ending up with full blown greenish bruises – a process during which he could hear the Vulcan’s silent moans. Barely managing to stop himself, he pulled up and looked back at Spock, his baby blues glowing, staring straight into deep chocolate browns.

“You truly are something special, Mr Spock.” He whispered.

“I’ll admit Captain, I am at a loss for words. I can only say the same thing about you. I must say, however, that the bruises might be difficult to explain. And you know that Vulcans don’t lie.”

“Are you stating that you did not enjoy this, Mr Spock?”

“Far from it, Captain. You managed to induce human emotions with you actions, which is usually a rarity.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Most illogical of me.”

At the Vulcan’s last response Kirk laughed, a genuine smile left on his face. He leaned down to kiss his loved one once more, and over and over again, internally overjoyed at the fact that he was able to provoke an emotional reaction from his beloved Vulcan. His primary reason for happiness, however, is the pure fact that the one he loves actually loves him back.

And he’d do anything for it to last forever.

As the pair entered one of San Francisco’s comfiest dive bars, they were greeted by a combination of mustiness, spilled ale and cigarette smoke.

“By golly. Smells just like Mississippi.” One of the men spoke, his usual southern accent most probably strengthened by the familiarity of the smell coming from the inside.

The other, blond and a bit taller man chuckled. “Welcome home, Bones.”

Noticing that Bones had his eyes on the stage, looking to see who’s currently singing, James turns in place, analyzing the room for a spot for them to sit. Preferably in the back. After finding one, he drags the older man by the arm, pushing through the crown and murmuring light ‘excuse me’s, until they reached a barrel around which stood most of the bridge’s crew.

After saying their hellos, everybody, with the exception of Jim, started talking about which songs they should sing. After all, it was Karaoke Night.

“Me and Jaylah are doing a rather fun duet, I’ll tell ya!” Scotty exclaimed.

“Hikaru, shall we do one too?” Nyota proposed, to which Sulu nodded with a wide smile on his face. He had a great song in mind.

“I’d like to go first!” Pavel said, obviously positive that his singing skills are going to wow the masses.

Behind all the chit chat, Spock inevitably noticed how quiet his captain was.

“Jim? You are quiet. What will you sing?”

At his question, everybody at the table turned their heads, impatient for a response.

Jim was well aware that pretty much nobody had any idea about whatever singing skills he may have and he planned to keep it that way.

“I’m gonna skip this one guys. Not feeling it tonight.”

Immediately about 8 types of ‘why not’ were thrown at him, and he could only respond with shaking his head.

Unbeknownst to him, Spock was pretty sure that the captain should sing, but decided not to push him any further. Yet.

As the host announced that it was time for everybody who wanted to sing to sign up, everybody literally ran from the table and to the stage, leaving Spock and James behind. Before trying once more, Spock threw a light and worried look towards the captain.

“Jim, I remember that you used that excuse multiple times in the past, henceforth it is illogical of you to use it once more. As you can see, the entire crew is ready to sing despite their presence or lack of music skills. You should probably sing, too. It is scientifically proven that, despite its negative effects, music tends to make humans happier and-“

“No, Spock. I’m not singing.”

Never removing his eyes from the blond man’s blue ones, which were stuck on a random spot on the floor, Spock almost sighed.

“Go sign up.” Was the last thing Spock had heard before turning around and joining his fellow crewmates.

First up was young Chekov, singing Rasputin by Boney M.

There lived a certain man in Russia long ago He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow Most people looked at him with terror and with fear But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear

As a big surprise to everybody in the room, but mostly to himself, Pavel almost effortlessly hit all the low and high notes almost impeccably.

At one point during the song, Leonard walked back to his friend, alone at the table with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Which gave him an amusing idea, a plan which was nevertheless probably going to fail.

“If you drink all that whiskey, you won’t be able to sing.”

In response, Jim could only laugh. And that’s when Bones got reassure that his plan definitely failed.

Ra Ra Rasputin Lover of the Russian queen There was a cat that really was gone Ra Ra Rasputin Russia’s greatest love machine It was a shame how he carried on

“I’m not singing tonight, Bones. Did Spock send you to talk me into singing?”

Bones only smirked. “I’m pretty sure Spock is the only one who could talk you into this, so that’s not why I’m here. I’m singing last and the front of the stage has a lotta drunk people who keep falling on me. I’m a doctor, not a babysitter.”

Next up, the stage was taken by Spock. The moment his song started, it seemed like every single person in the room lost their mind, either crying of laughter or singing with the Vulcan.

I stay out too late Got nothing on my brain That’s what people say, mmm-mmm That’s what people say, mmm-mmm

Soon, the entire crowd was singing together with Spock. Even Jim, even though he did not dare sing, had a silly, beaming smile plastered across his face, lips going from one ear to the other.

Heart-breakers gonna break, break, break, break, break And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake Baby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, shake it off

AS the song’s end was nearing, Kirk’s eyes started glowing, probably with happiness, and for a moment there he really was tempted to get up there and sing. However, as soon as the lights moved away from his Vulcan friend, the temptation was gone.

The next two were pairs: Sulu and Uhura nailing Take On Me by A-Ha, and the power duo, Scotty and Jaylah, absolutely killing it with Fight For You Right by Beastie Boys.

Even though he was enjoying himself, it seemed like time passed by in slow motion for Jim. Even a light headache was catching up. Like he was unconscious when the host announced McCoy’s name, Jim sharply turned his head to his friend with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Didn’t you hear it? It’s my turn. Show time, baby.” He said dramatically and jogged behind the stage.

Suddenly, all the lights turned off. Just a moment later, in the center of the stage there was Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy wearing a blond wig with two ponytails on his head and shimmery pink lip gloss messily spread all over his lips.

Oh, baby, baby How was I supposed to know That something wasn’t right here?

Oh, baby, baby I shouldn’t have let you go And now you’re out of sight, yeah

The entire crowd screamed once more, if not even louder than when Spock started singing the Taylor Swift song. Even Jim started singing there for just a brief moment, with his hands dramatically placed on his heart, but he quickly snapped out of it. Nevertheless, he was quite close to pissing his pants, as McCoy’s performance was truly magical.

My loneliness is killing me I must confess, I still believe When I’m not with you I lose my mind Give me a sign Hit me, baby, one more time!

As Bones was the last of those who signed up to sing, he and the crew walked straight back to Jim’s table, some covered in glitter, some in Romulan Ale, and some in lip gloss.

“I swear, man, I will personally give you a medal for this one.” Jim laughed and patted Bones of the back, the man still trying to wipe off what remained of the makeup.

“Good god, this thing is like glue!”

Everybody laughed, but silence took over as Spock spoke up.

“The end of the night is nearing, Jim. You should sing a song, just as all of us did.”

Uhura, however, took Jim’s side and spoke up before he could even react.

“Oh, come on, Spock. Maybe he’s just shy.” She turned to Jim. “James, it’s fine.”

“Captain, are you good at singing, though? Cause if you are, I cannae let ya waste it.” Scotty stated.

Jim took in a breath to speak, but was once more cut off, this time by Spock. And what he said surprised him more than he ever thought it would.

“That is why I’m insisting, Mr Scott. Jim is quite skilled. As you’d say, he has a marvelous voice.”

Suddenly, everybody tuned to Jim and started chanting his name. Soon, the rest of the crowd joined in and in a matter of seconds, the entire room was calling his name. Even the host over the microphone.

Jim swallowed and got his ass of that chair, ready to make some noise. He downed what was left of the whiskey and made his way to the stage, to which the crowd went wild.

He climbed onto the stage, grabbed the mike and turned his back to the crowd, just slightly nervous at what might happen next. As he stood there motionless, the crown went silent. He was so focused that he could hear people’s whispers.

‘I hear people say he sounds like that famous 20th century singer. Sinatra, was it?’

The second he tuned around and sang the first line, his nervousness vanished and the crowd went dead silent, almost like every single soul focused its mind on the man’s inexplicably gorgeous singing.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like On a-Jupiter and Mars

As the blond man sang on wonderfully, perfectly hitting each note and vibrato, his eyes were searching the crowd for a specific sharp-eared man.

Suddenly, he emerged from the depths of the crowds, unable to take his eyes off of the handsome blue eyed man singing on that stage. As he took careful steps towards the stage, almost like he’s careful not to step on broken glass, James approached the edge and extended his hand, waiting for the slightly older man to reach him. Spock grabbed onto his hand and jumped on the stage, grabbing a mike and joining in with the captain, their voices in perfect sync. Never letting go of each other’s hand, they turned to each other and got lost in those chocolate and steely blue eyes, completely enchanted by each other’s presence and voice – almost like the crowd wasn’t even there.

Fill my heart with song And let me sing for ever more You and I are long for All I worship and adore In other words, please be true In other words, I love you

They finished the song, literally inches from each other; Spock’s cheeks with shining green while Jim’s where pink and flushed. The definitely would’ve kissed if the crowd hadn’t started clapping and cheering, making the two break apart. Nonetheless, the two smile, turn to the crowd and make their way down. Fairly quickly, a sea of people surrounded James, congratulating him.

“Captain, that was amazing.”

“I never knew you had such an incredible voice, Jim!”

“You need to sing another song!”

At the last remark, everybody started chanting once more, this time begging for another song.

Since he didn’t carry the burden of keeping his skill hidden any more, Jim truly was tempted to run back to that stage for an encore. However, when he turned his head to Spock, his expression was blank but his eyes said everything – he was free to go for another song, but there was a light hint of sadness kept hidden. Fortunately for Jim, he knew Spock quite well – well enough to figure out the Vulcan’s emotions.

Dismissing the chant, thanking and apologizing, James rushed to Spock’s side, took his hand and the pair exited the bar hand in hand, smiles on their faces.

[tiberivs-kirk]

This is a gift for @stnetwork‘s Gift Exchange for the wonderful @lucifermoaningstar !! It’s a little Spirk collection with a bit of protective!Spock. Really hope you like it <3 LLAP

He was leaning on his forearms, his weight entirely held by the steel base of the bar. There was no need for a bar stool – he spent just enough time in his life sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge. His baby blue eyes were on the half full glass in front of him, yet his mind was elsewhere. While unconsciously drawing circles on the previously unstained glass, his mind was simultaneously analyzing the ruby shade of the drink in his glass and the now apparent creases on the skin of his forehead.

The drink was intense, like it had a personality of its own. Russian, and feisty. Dammit, Chekov.

What was the average number of years of service for a Starfleet captain anyways? Pike was one for a while. For quite a long time, actually. But his situation was different. Christopher Pike was a captain because he was simply born to be one. He was respected, honorable, intelligent, brave – everything a commander in the fleet could ask for. Kirk? He joined on a dare.

Déjà vu.

But it was indeed true. He wanted nothing more than to be better than his father ever was. Like winning a challenge. His primary aim was victory in this absurd, non-existent competition and coming out on top. And all of this nonsense was fueled by arrogance and narcissism, but at the same time loneliness and a desperate need for attention. All he ever wanted was approval.

His gaze and train of thoughts were broken by the sound of the doors to the empty bar sliding open. James’s eyes moved to the glass first, just for him to find out that he’d been out of it for so long that the ice cubes melted. So much for whiskey on the rock.

Just a moment later, he moved them to the slim and awfully familiar figure at the door. He smiled at the forever serious-looking man, warmth instantly filling his insides at the sight of those chocolate eyes, greenish skin and signature spiked ears. There was something about this man that always managed to relieve the stress. Still in his usual cerulean blue uniform, Spock approached the captain after acknowledging his nod, a sign of approval for him to intrude on captain’s personal hours off.

“Good evening, Mr Spock.” He said lightheartedly. “What bring you to this lovely bar tonight?”

As per usual, not even a smirk from the Vulcan. “Good evening Jim. As a result of my personal and the crew’s observation, today you seemed, according to human vernacular, off.”

Kirk wordlessly stared at the man across from him while downing the remains of his drink, waiting for him to finish.

“It appears that you’re not fully being your usual self. Therefore, I’m here to see what is not right.”

Smiling, Jim carefully placed the now empty glass back on the coaster and looked back up at his beloved first officer, barely able to keep his laughter at bay.

“So, as I see it, my feelings are hurt and the crew decides to make you come and check on me.” He stepped away from the bar and walked back to the cooler to take out the bottle full of scotch he’d previously been drinking. “Was this Bones’ idea? Sounds a lot like him.”

Spock watched calmly as the captain walked back to his spot and began pouring the liquid, way over the usual amount. “I’ve come here on my own accord.”

At his words, Kirk stopped pouring and looked up, straight into Spock’s eyes, his gaze literally screaming ‘are you serious’.

“I am quite serious Jim.”

Kirk looked down on his drink, a bit embarrassed at himself for reacting the way he did. Though, that’s not exactly why his cheeks were getting redder by the minute.

“My apologies, Mr Spock. It was not my intention.”

Having given up the usual Vulcan act for a moment, Spock effortlessly fashioned a genuine smile, at which Kirk’s eyes significantly widened.

“As you already know, no offence taken. What is it, however, that makes you feel like this Jim?”

James was aware that Spock was usually anything but a shoulder to cry on, but sensed something changed in the man in front of him. Spock was no therapist, but Jim knew that he could rely on him no matter what.

He sighed and spoke with traces of hope in his voice. “I’ll be honest with you Spock. It’s been almost 10 years since I first sat in that chair, on this ship, with all these people. We’d been through so many missions, exploring the endlessness that is space, and all of you people – you’re my family. But I’m not sure I’m still fit to do this job, Spock. Yeah, it’s true, I almost left this ship for good once before, but this is different. I feel like I’m slower than I used to be, like I can’t handle the things that space throws at us on a daily basis.”

“Captain, if you’re referring to you physical condition, both you, Dr McCoy and I are very well aware that you’re more than capable to do your job properly.”

Kirk’s smile has faded. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Spock. I’m responsible for everybody on this ship. And the people I hold the closest to my heart are included. That includes you, Spock. If I mess up one little detail because of my newfound insecurities, all of you could die. And I cannot afford that.”

Spock knew that what he was about to do next was far off from his usual gestures, but it was only logical. Only necessary.

Jim Kirk could only gasp after Spock walked around the bar and wrapped his arms around him. His arms applied light pressure, just enough to relieve any tension left in Jim. Despite the usual coldness of Vulcans’ blood, James could feel only warmth and comfort, consolation and genuine love. The fact that Spock cared was never obvious, but everybody was aware of the fact that he did. However, it was never displayed with such clarity, not until then.

After realizing that Spock was not even close to letting go, Jim wrapped his arms tightly around the slightly taller man, returning the favor. He leaned closer to him and placed his jaw on Spock’s shoulder, closed his eyes and let out a single tear.

It’s amazing just what simple human contact can do for a person. So, there they were; two grown men holding each other in a bittersweet embrace, frozen in time, overthrown with emotion – pure human.

Aware that that was more human than anything he’d done ever before in his life, Spock wasn’t going to break the streak, not yet.

“Jim, whatever you decide, know that it is only logical that you have all of our support and affection.”

James nodded silently, admitting to himself that he wasn’t yet ready to leave his life behind. Especially not the man in front of him.

His warm brown eyes snapped open, hit directly with a stray beam of morning sunshine peeking through the shades. Those light rays were a usual sign of the ending of winter in San Francisco, which meant spring was knocking on the door.

Spring. His significant other’s favorite time of the year. The time when birds started singing, so his loved one could hum along with them; the time when flowers, colored with all the shades of the spectrum, blossomed and filled the air with that familiar hint of sweetness; the time when grass grew tall and green and when the air’s temperature significantly raised.

It took him just a moment more to realize that that significant other was laying right there beside him, his arms wrapped around the Vulcan’s waist, head leaning where a human’s liver would be, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat.

Daisies. James Kirk’s favorite.

It had been no more than a week, and Spock still had trouble adjusting to the fact that he may never again sleep alone. Spock is a man of organization, logic and routine – by now he’d already be up and about, finishing work that needs to be done.

It appeared, however, that things had changed.

Spock used to cook only for himself. Now, he either has to cook for two or will be greeted with a home-cooked meal. His closed used to be filled only with blue uniforms. Not much space was additionally taken up, but suddenly there were golden uniforms, too. Sometimes, he’d spend lonely nights, walking around town, secluded with his own mind. Now, it appears, there’s always company. He’d always sleep alone, and sometimes nights were cold. It seems, now, that he’ll never be cold again. He did not mind sharing body warmth for such a longs period of time, and it was strange to him. Like he was surprised by his own mind and body.

His routine had been broken. But, for the first time, he did not mind.

Careful not to wake him up, Spock moved his hand and placed it on Jim’s head, unconsciously playing with the long golden locks. He twisted them around, intrigued by the softness of the man’s strands. His eyes moved from the ceiling to Jim; they were scanning his position, the toned muscles on his arms and back, the scars left from countless encounters with unfriendly strangers of space. His body moved on par with their paired heartbeats. It eradiated heat – a thing which Spock could get used to more easily than others.

Spock was snapped out of his observation more by a silent moan, definitely coming from the man next to him.

“Mmm. Spock?” he mumbled into the Vulcan’s skin.

“Good morning Jim. Feeling well?”

“Definitely.”

The blond man rolled away from his partner and stretched, letting out sounds which resembled moaning – something Spock found rather strange. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, James rolled back around onto his stomach and almost climbed up to face the slightly older man. His steely blue eyes scanned Spock’s face, finding no specific feature showing emotion other than a slight curve to his lips. A pair of hands reached up from Kirk’s lower back, across his sides, all the way to the shoulder blades and the crooks of his neck. He took his liberty and lowered down, planting a long, loving kiss on the man’s soft lips. Seeing that his high cheekbones turned a light shade of green, a smug smile took over as he bent down to his neck, starting with light nibbles on the thin skin and ending up with full blown greenish bruises – a process during which he could hear the Vulcan’s silent moans. Barely managing to stop himself, he pulled up and looked back at Spock, his baby blues glowing, staring straight into deep chocolate browns.

“You truly are something special, Mr Spock.” He whispered.

“I’ll admit Captain, I am at a loss for words. I can only say the same thing about you. I must say, however, that the bruises might be difficult to explain. And you know that Vulcans don’t lie.”

“Are you stating that you did not enjoy this, Mr Spock?”

“Far from it, Captain. You managed to induce human emotions with you actions, which is usually a rarity.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Most illogical of me.”

At the Vulcan’s last response Kirk laughed, a genuine smile left on his face. He leaned down to kiss his loved one once more, and over and over again, internally overjoyed at the fact that he was able to provoke an emotional reaction from his beloved Vulcan. His primary reason for happiness, however, is the pure fact that the one he loves actually loves him back.

And he’d do anything for it to last forever.

As the pair entered one of San Francisco’s comfiest dive bars, they were greeted by a combination of mustiness, spilled ale and cigarette smoke.

“By golly. Smells just like Mississippi.” One of the men spoke, his usual southern accent most probably strengthened by the familiarity of the smell coming from the inside.

The other, blond and a bit taller man chuckled. “Welcome home, Bones.”

Noticing that Bones had his eyes on the stage, looking to see who’s currently singing, James turns in place, analyzing the room for a spot for them to sit. Preferably in the back. After finding one, he drags the older man by the arm, pushing through the crown and murmuring light ‘excuse me’s, until they reached a barrel around which stood most of the bridge’s crew.

After saying their hellos, everybody, with the exception of Jim, started talking about which songs they should sing. After all, it was Karaoke Night.

“Me and Jaylah are doing a rather fun duet, I’ll tell ya!” Scotty exclaimed.

“Hikaru, shall we do one too?” Nyota proposed, to which Sulu nodded with a wide smile on his face. He had a great song in mind.

“I’d like to go first!” Pavel said, obviously positive that his singing skills are going to wow the masses.

Behind all the chit chat, Spock inevitably noticed how quiet his captain was.

“Jim? You are quiet. What will you sing?”

At his question, everybody at the table turned their heads, impatient for a response.

Jim was well aware that pretty much nobody had any idea about whatever singing skills he may have and he planned to keep it that way.

“I’m gonna skip this one guys. Not feeling it tonight.”

Immediately about 8 types of ‘why not’ were thrown at him, and he could only respond with shaking his head.

Unbeknownst to him, Spock was pretty sure that the captain should sing, but decided not to push him any further. Yet.

As the host announced that it was time for everybody who wanted to sing to sign up, everybody literally ran from the table and to the stage, leaving Spock and James behind. Before trying once more, Spock threw a light and worried look towards the captain.

“Jim, I remember that you used that excuse multiple times in the past, henceforth it is illogical of you to use it once more. As you can see, the entire crew is ready to sing despite their presence or lack of music skills. You should probably sing, too. It is scientifically proven that, despite its negative effects, music tends to make humans happier and-“

“No, Spock. I’m not singing.”

Never removing his eyes from the blond man’s blue ones, which were stuck on a random spot on the floor, Spock almost sighed.

“Go sign up.” Was the last thing Spock had heard before turning around and joining his fellow crewmates.

First up was young Chekov, singing Rasputin by Boney M.

There lived a certain man in Russia long ago He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow Most people looked at him with terror and with fear But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear

As a big surprise to everybody in the room, but mostly to himself, Pavel almost effortlessly hit all the low and high notes almost impeccably.

At one point during the song, Leonard walked back to his friend, alone at the table with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Which gave him an amusing idea, a plan which was nevertheless probably going to fail.

“If you drink all that whiskey, you won’t be able to sing.”

In response, Jim could only laugh. And that’s when Bones got reassure that his plan definitely failed.

Ra Ra Rasputin Lover of the Russian queen There was a cat that really was gone Ra Ra Rasputin Russia’s greatest love machine It was a shame how he carried on

“I’m not singing tonight, Bones. Did Spock send you to talk me into singing?”

Bones only smirked. “I’m pretty sure Spock is the only one who could talk you into this, so that’s not why I’m here. I’m singing last and the front of the stage has a lotta drunk people who keep falling on me. I’m a doctor, not a babysitter.”

Next up, the stage was taken by Spock. The moment his song started, it seemed like every single person in the room lost their mind, either crying of laughter or singing with the Vulcan.

I stay out too late Got nothing on my brain That’s what people say, mmm-mmm That’s what people say, mmm-mmm

Soon, the entire crowd was singing together with Spock. Even Jim, even though he did not dare sing, had a silly, beaming smile plastered across his face, lips going from one ear to the other.

Heart-breakers gonna break, break, break, break, break And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake Baby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, shake it off

AS the song’s end was nearing, Kirk’s eyes started glowing, probably with happiness, and for a moment there he really was tempted to get up there and sing. However, as soon as the lights moved away from his Vulcan friend, the temptation was gone.

The next two were pairs: Sulu and Uhura nailing Take On Me by A-Ha, and the power duo, Scotty and Jaylah, absolutely killing it with Fight For You Right by Beastie Boys.

Even though he was enjoying himself, it seemed like time passed by in slow motion for Jim. Even a light headache was catching up. Like he was unconscious when the host announced McCoy’s name, Jim sharply turned his head to his friend with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Didn’t you hear it? It’s my turn. Show time, baby.” He said dramatically and jogged behind the stage.

Suddenly, all the lights turned off. Just a moment later, in the center of the stage there was Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy wearing a blond wig with two ponytails on his head and shimmery pink lip gloss messily spread all over his lips.

Oh, baby, baby How was I supposed to know That something wasn’t right here?

Oh, baby, baby I shouldn’t have let you go And now you’re out of sight, yeah

The entire crowd screamed once more, if not even louder than when Spock started singing the Taylor Swift song. Even Jim started singing there for just a brief moment, with his hands dramatically placed on his heart, but he quickly snapped out of it. Nevertheless, he was quite close to pissing his pants, as McCoy’s performance was truly magical.

My loneliness is killing me I must confess, I still believe When I’m not with you I lose my mind Give me a sign Hit me, baby, one more time!

As Bones was the last of those who signed up to sing, he and the crew walked straight back to Jim’s table, some covered in glitter, some in Romulan Ale, and some in lip gloss.

“I swear, man, I will personally give you a medal for this one.” Jim laughed and patted Bones of the back, the man still trying to wipe off what remained of the makeup.

“Good god, this thing is like glue!”

Everybody laughed, but silence took over as Spock spoke up.

“The end of the night is nearing, Jim. You should sing a song, just as all of us did.”

Uhura, however, took Jim’s side and spoke up before he could even react.

“Oh, come on, Spock. Maybe he’s just shy.” She turned to Jim. “James, it’s fine.”

“Captain, are you good at singing, though? Cause if you are, I cannae let ya waste it.” Scotty stated.

Jim took in a breath to speak, but was once more cut off, this time by Spock. And what he said surprised him more than he ever thought it would.

“That is why I’m insisting, Mr Scott. Jim is quite skilled. As you’d say, he has a marvelous voice.”

Suddenly, everybody tuned to Jim and started chanting his name. Soon, the rest of the crowd joined in and in a matter of seconds, the entire room was calling his name. Even the host over the microphone.

Jim swallowed and got his ass of that chair, ready to make some noise. He downed what was left of the whiskey and made his way to the stage, to which the crowd went wild.

He climbed onto the stage, grabbed the mike and turned his back to the crowd, just slightly nervous at what might happen next. As he stood there motionless, the crown went silent. He was so focused that he could hear people’s whispers.

‘I hear people say he sounds like that famous 20th century singer. Sinatra, was it?’

The second he tuned around and sang the first line, his nervousness vanished and the crowd went dead silent, almost like every single soul focused its mind on the man’s inexplicably gorgeous singing.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like On a-Jupiter and Mars

As the blond man sang on wonderfully, perfectly hitting each note and vibrato, his eyes were searching the crowd for a specific sharp-eared man.

Suddenly, he emerged from the depths of the crowds, unable to take his eyes off of the handsome blue eyed man singing on that stage. As he took careful steps towards the stage, almost like he’s careful not to step on broken glass, James approached the edge and extended his hand, waiting for the slightly older man to reach him. Spock grabbed onto his hand and jumped on the stage, grabbing a mike and joining in with the captain, their voices in perfect sync. Never letting go of each other’s hand, they turned to each other and got lost in those chocolate and steely blue eyes, completely enchanted by each other’s presence and voice – almost like the crowd wasn’t even there.

Fill my heart with song And let me sing for ever more You and I are long for All I worship and adore In other words, please be true In other words, I love you

They finished the song, literally inches from each other; Spock’s cheeks with shining green while Jim’s where pink and flushed. The definitely would’ve kissed if the crowd hadn’t started clapping and cheering, making the two break apart. Nonetheless, the two smile, turn to the crowd and make their way down. Fairly quickly, a sea of people surrounded James, congratulating him.

“Captain, that was amazing.”

“I never knew you had such an incredible voice, Jim!”

“You need to sing another song!”

At the last remark, everybody started chanting once more, this time begging for another song.

Since he didn’t carry the burden of keeping his skill hidden any more, Jim truly was tempted to run back to that stage for an encore. However, when he turned his head to Spock, his expression was blank but his eyes said everything – he was free to go for another song, but there was a light hint of sadness kept hidden. Fortunately for Jim, he knew Spock quite well – well enough to figure out the Vulcan’s emotions.

Dismissing the chant, thanking and apologizing, James rushed to Spock’s side, took his hand and the pair exited the bar hand in hand, smiles on their faces.