Chapter Text
– I don't know what I'm supposed to do next, Lis – Jim looked at his glass of whiskey as he sat by the bar.
– What are you, kidding me? You already got the green-blooded hobgoblin to come to a freaking bar. I'm pretty sure that's the hardest part – Elisa patted his back and walked away, leaving him with a smile on his face.
Before focusing back on his "task", Jim looked back to see their two best friends sitting side by side once again, as they had many times before. He laughed at the realization that the only two people who wouldn't admit that Leonard and Elisa were completely in love each other were Leonard and Elisa. If confronted, they would probably say that the reason they were whispering in each other's ears was because of the loud music, and that they were laughing at Jim and not out of flirtation. The three years of friendship Kirk had with the two and the amount of alcohol stored in his system had him urging to stand up and go tell them to just kiss already, but he stopped right after leaving his seat.
He had something more important to do.
Spock looked bored, which was no surprise. But he also looked interested in talking to Kirk, deviating his look whenever it seemed like he had stared at another point for long enough. He maintained his always straight up position, as he sat in the rear of a line of sottish Starfleet officers. Kirk walked up to him with an utmost confidence thrust upon him, collapsing behind the round wooden table and attracting the Vulcan's attention.
– Bet I can guess what you're thinking.
Spock didn't reply to Jim's smirk, or his statement. He just looked at him, appalled, as his eyes studied the influence of that devilish drink in the human behavior. He then narrowed his eyes, waiting for the Captain to carry on. Jim pointed at Spock with the index finger of the hand that faithfully held his glass.
– You're thinking that you wish you knew what was the sociably acceptable time to leave.
Jim was pretty drunk, but he could've sworn he saw the projection of a smile in the corner of his friend's lips. Spock then looked down for a bit, staring at his crossed hands before traveling his sight back at the pair of blue eyes.
– I'm afraid your assumption is correct, Captain. I appreciate the invite, but I seem to not be enjoying this human form of fun – Spock's answer caused Kirk to widen up a smile, and instead of apologizing, or showing any sorrow at all, he offered the challenge.
– Have you ever had alcohol, Mr. Spock?
– The amount of alcohol needed to bring humans to this state has no effect on Vulcans, Captain – he answered sharply.
– But you're part human. Didn't you ever have the curiosity?
– The only curiosity is regarding the reason why humans make use of this drink, which I fail to understand.
Jim looked down and breathed a laugh as his arms crossed and rested over the table. Then he looked back up at Spock.
– It makes us expose our feelings with more ease. It might do you some good.
– It might do me nothing – Spock looked away.
– Let's find out then – Kirk smiled once more and got up – I'll fetch you something light.
Jim stumbled on his feet and ignored Spock's eye roll, steading himself up and slowly walking away.
– Two glasses of scotch on the rocks, please – he smiled towards the bartender and then sat down to wait for his order.
When Jim spun the seat around, he was struck by the surprising view ahead of him. Elisa and Leonard, sitting on the couch they were previously just talking at, were now kissing passionately. Jim laughed at that sight, but then was taken from his conscious. Maybe it was time for him to finally let out his feelings as well. It's not like his friends had come to their consciousness and admit it themselves, they were just completely drunk to speed the process – but then again so was he. And the attempt to bring Spock to the same condition could only help, he figured.
Jim walked back almost in a hurry, and tried his best to sit straight this time. He rested both glasses over the table and looked at Spock like a mother looks at their child, waiting for them to finish lunch. The Vulcan received the message somehow, but hesitated to make any moves until Kirk would pick up his own glass.
– Come on, Spock – Jim pushed the glass towards him and then picked the other one up, keeping it lifted for a click – It won't hurt you.
– I am not sure that's entirely true.
With one precise movement, Spock's hand articulated the necessary movement to take the sip directly into his mouth. Jim twitched his lip and raised his glass, before start to drink as well. When he lowered it down after mere seconds, he noticed Spock had already finished his glass and had to gasp.
– Good god! You know what, why don't you take this? – Jim put his glass on the table and dragged to Spock – Obviously you need it more than I do.
This time he watched as the one sitting beside him ingested all of the alcohol at once, without ever resting the glass down, other than once it was completely empty.
And then he did it again. And again.
Ten times he did it. It took Spock ten glasses to get to a state where he was considerably dizzy and words felt like they were flying around randomly. It felt awful.
"I'm sorry about your mother, Spock."
"Well, your whole planet."
He was somehow convinced by Kirk that he should "steady himself up" by having beer now. The bitterness went down his throat, but it felt good. It brought it all out. Sentiment.
"... and then I felt the same way, when my planet was in danger."
"I guess, what I'm trying to say is..."
"Spock!"
It was like a wakeup call. This time Jim wasn't laid back on his sit, legs spread wide and head thrown back. He was up straight and his body turned towards Spock's side, looking straight into the eyes that turned to him.
– I need you to actually listen this time.
He looked at his Captain with widened eyes that were almost frightened, from what was happening to him. Again, he chose not to speak, and kept his stare long enough so that Kirk could continue to whatever it is he was saying.
– What I'm trying to say is that... I get it – Kirk was surprisingly keeping his eyes fixated on Spock's, and the Vulcan was somewhat envious for how he had much more experience in being drunk.
Fucking hell. Why can't I just get this right? Kirk wanted to punch himself in the face. Sure, letting out feelings had never been his area, but the way he felt, he thought he'd be able to shout it from the rooftops. And to make it worse, the one who had to know of his feelings wasn't familiar with that area himself. Shit, shit, shit. He considered walking away.
But he couldn't move.
Spock chose to lightly nod, reclining back in the seat. Your move, James. He wondered whether Spock kept throwing the ball back to his court because he didn't understand what he meant or because he didn't want to deal with it. Probably both. It's how Jim felt himself, anyway. Captain Kirk cleared his throat more times than necessary and did once more that movement that hurt the same much as it was good; looking right into Spock's brown irises.
– Look, I just want you to know that... I'm here for you. If you want my help.
At the end of the sentence, he decidedly put his hand over the table, causing Spock to look at it as it now rested inches away from his own. It looked like a man with a certified decision to hold his loved one's hand – only Jim didn't go that far. He gets it. He fucking gets it now. Jim could tell by Spock's deep sigh, and how he started to nervously tremble his fingers on the wood.
Come on, one more move. I can do this. I need to be sure he knows what I mean.
Now both of them were looking at the pair of hands in the table, and Kirk started moving his hands sideways painfully slowly. Every second, hell, every millisecond that passed, he thought about pulling back and running away. Because before this moment, he was scared that Spock wouldn't return his feelings and he would ruin everything between them; whatever it was they had that far. But the thing is that he was standing shockingly still – and that was so much more terrifying. The two sets of eyes stared eagerly at the table, as if the collision of the hands didn't depend on either, and they were mere spectators. Their eyes were spectators of their hearts, which for once were taking control.
And then it turned out that Spock's pulsing organ could also feel palpitations – that could also lead to impulsions. And Kirk learned that in a memorable way, that would certainly have him change his beliefs regarding the possibility of any future between those two – which he wasn't even sure he wanted, or else he didn't want to admit so. It was the blink of an eye before he realized the Vulcan's warm hand now rested over his own, and his eyes now slowly traveled up. Maybe it was because he suddenly felt coy from the exposure or because he couldn't quite assimilate what was happening, but it was a full minute before Kirk had the courage to look up and face Spock once again. When he did, he saw a sheer of reluctance in his eyes, which was the message he believed to be delivering with his look as well.
But they didn't let go.
They just stood still, hand on hand, eyes on eyes, for so long they forgot that many co-workers – although not in their best judgment – could have inquired them about what the hell was going on there. Eventually, they would slightly move a finger or a leg, build up the flimsiest corner of a smile, or blink into another direction. But no words. No words until after a good ten minutes or so, when Spock let his mind win him over by deciding he had to actually say the words, and not only transmit them through looks to the human.
– I will take it.