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James T. Kirk was back on the Enterprise with his crew, and all was right in the universe. (At least for the foreseeable future.) After a couple of weeks of deep space exploration following the V’Ger situation, the ship was on a course to return to Earth. Even though it had been years since Kirk had captained the ship, and despite the Enterprise’s new refitting and the hideous, beige Starfleet-compulsory uniforms, it felt as if he’d never left.
And so, he fell back in with his past friends and crew members like no time had passed. He couldn’t seem to remember why he ever fell out of touch with them in the first place. Of course, he figured, different assignments– Uhura had gone onto a research vessel for a short time before being reassigned back to the Enterprise. Kirk heard that Sulu went back to the Academy for Command training. Spock–. Well, Spock just up and left. And, of course, Bones had thought that he was done with Starfleet all together. Kirk laughed to himself at the thought.
“What’s so funny?”
It was Bones now who broke Kirk out of his reverie. The doctor glared at him good-naturedly over his tray of replicated salad.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just thinking how good it is to be back. To have my crew back. Believe it or not, but I did miss you, Bones.”
McCoy crossed his arms. “Well, I can’t say I’m happy to be back, Jim, but I guess this beats drinking alone in my office back in Georgia,” he said. “Say, are you free tonight? I was going to break out that Saurian brandy to celebrate our homecoming.”
“I can’t tonight,” Kirk said. “Spock and I have a standing chess date. What about tomorrow after Beta shift?”
McCoy took a bite of his salad and ignored Kirk’s question. “How are things going with you and your Vulcan, anyways?” he asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly.
Kirk paused for a second. “Good,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
In truth, things had been amazing with Spock. Kirk thought that they seemed even closer than they had been during their last five-year mission. They played chess in Kirk’s quarters every Thursday, sparred during the weekends, and took most of their meals together. The only reason why Spock wasn’t sitting in the mess with Kirk and McCoy right now was that there had been an exciting breakthrough at the lab relating to some kind of alien bacteria.
Kirk hadn’t yet asked Spock about Kohlinar. He felt like Spock would bring it up if and when he was ready. He had his old First Officer back, and that was enough for Kirk. If anything, Spock seemed even more open to him after having melded with V’Ger. Kirk didn’t want to spoil what they had.
“No reason,” said McCoy, shrugging. “I’m happy for you both.” He gave Kirk a smile before reverting back to his grumpy veneer. “Just please keep the sordid details to yourself. I know you’re an open book, but unless it’s medically necessary, I don’t want to know what you two get up to in your own time.” McCoy turned his attention back to his food.
Kirk’s eyebrows furrowed. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean,” the doctor said, “what’s private, should stay private.” He raised his eyebrows, trying to communicate something silently that Kirk just could not seem to figure out. McCoy sighed. “In the past, you haven’t always been the most discreet about your dalliances, you know.”
Kirk sputtered. “Wha- we’re not in a relationship, Bones!”
McCoy shot him an unimpressed look from across the table. “You’re telling me that I didn’t see you both kiss and make up in my med bay a handful of weeks ago?”
“That’s what you’re talking about?” Kirk asked incredulously. “You mean after Spock had a near death experience and realized that it’s normal to have emotions? I don’t really think that counts as a come-on, doc.” He tried to make a joke, but it just made him sound anxious. “And what do you mean, kiss?”
McCoy suddenly sobered. “Do you know how many nerve endings are in a Vulcan hand?” He was looking with earnest curiosity at Kirk. Kirk felt himself flush. What the fuck was he talking about?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
McCoy covered his face in his hands and sighed. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he said to himself. The doctor stood up suddenly and grabbed his now empty lunch tray. “You better go talk to Mr. Spock about this, Jim.”
“Wait!” Kirk called after him. “What do you mean? What about nerve endings?”
McCoy didn’t seem to hear him as he left the mess hall. Kirk was left at the table by himself. He looked down, as if searching for answers to this confusing and slightly embarrassing conversation in his plate of replicated spaghetti bolognese. It yielded no new information, besides the fact that it was uneaten and now room-temperature. Kirk resolved to ask Spock what McCoy had meant.
-
Spock gave a perfunctory knock before entering Kirk’s quarters that night. Four weeks ago, after Kirk had slept through what was supposed to have been a chess match and found Spock waiting outside his door a half an hour later, Kirk insisted on giving him the code to enter the captain’s quarters. He figured that Spock could already access his room through their shared restroom, so what’s the harm?
Kirk looked up from his PADD as the door swished open. Spock still waited in the doorway until Kirk acknowledged his presence. Vulcan manners, and all that. Kirk smiled when he saw his first officer, getting up from his desk to greet him.
“Hello, Mister Spock.”
Spock’s lip twitched upward in what Kirk could now recognize as a Vulcan grin.
“Good evening, Captain.” Spock strode into the room, hands clasped behind his back. He made a beeline for his usual side of the three-dimensional chess board. Kirk followed suit.
-
Kirk forgot all about the hand thing that he had meant to ask Spock about until half way through their match. While moving a piece, Kirk accidentally brushed his hand across Spock’s. He glanced up at Spock to see his reaction. Of course, Kirk thought, he had no reaction. Spock was engrossed in the game, staring at the board trying to figure out his next move. They were neck in neck for first place, so Kirk figured it couldn’t hurt to throw him off with a little conversation, anyways.
“So Spock,” Kirk said. Spock didn’t acknowledge that he’d even spoken. “What’s this that Doctor McCoy has been telling me about Vulcan hands and nerve endings?”
Spock glanced up momentarily, raising an eyebrow at Kirk.
“I assume you know, Jim,” he said.
“Yes,” Kirk replied, “everyone does seem to be assuming that.”
Spock moved his bishop before looking up at Kirk again, eyebrows knitting together.
“I must inform you that if you are trying to distract me with conversation, it won’t work,” Spock said. “Are you truly unaware of the significance of hands in Vulcan culture?”
Now it was Kirk’s turn to try and hold a conversation while winning a chess match. Damn. He tried to think back on his ambassadorial training on Vulcans, but it had been a while since he was in the Academy.
“Well,” Kirk started, “I know you guys don’t do handshakes a lot…”
Spock mercifully cut him off.
“Vulcan hands are extremely sensitive. There are approximately 100,00 nerve endings per cubic inch on the fingertips alone- this is the information to which I assume Doctor McCoy was referring.” Spock looked at Kirk’s face for understanding and, seeing none, continued. “And, as you know, Vulcans are touch telepaths. The combined emotional and physical sensitivity present in our hands has resulted in a cultural practice in which one is to abstain from touching another’s hand unless related or… intimately involved.”
Kirk looked stupidly at Spock and felt his face flush. The tips of his ears felt like they were on fire. He forgot all about the chess game.
“So...” Kirk said. “It’s like… kissing?”
“I suppose that would be a close Terran comparison, yes.”
Kirk continued to look at him silently. Spock interpreted this look to mean that he did not fully understand. He gracefully shifted his chair out from behind its place at the table and moved it beside the board, closer to Kirk.
“May I show you what I mean?” Spock asked, gently taking Kirk’s wrist in his hand.
Kirk could barely muster out a weak, “Yes.” His brain was running a mile a minute.
With his other hand, Spock folded all Kirk’s fingers, save for his pointer and index, into his palm. Kirk watched with quiet wonder as Spock then mirrored the gesture with his own hand and touched the tips of their fingers together. Kirk felt a warm feeling grow in his chest as they made contact.
“This would be considered an appropriate ‘Vulcan kiss’, as you might call it.” Spock said, looking down at their fingers for a moment before pulling his hand back into his lap.
Suddenly, it all made sense. The dinners, the chess games, McCoy’s comments– all of it. He looked up at Spock.
“So,” Kirk said. “When I held your hand in the med bay after V’Ger… that was, what, basically the Vulcan equivalent of making out?”
This time it was Spock’s turn to blush. Kirk couldn’t help but appreciate the green tint that flushed the Vulcan’s face. He was statue-still and just as silent. Vulcans never lie my ass, Kirk thought.
After a beat of silence, Kirk dropped the bomb.
“Spock, are we… dating?”
Kirk swore you could’ve heard a pin drop at that moment. Spock’s face turned an impossible green color and he stiffly stood up.
“I apologize, Captain.” Kirk could hear a waver in Spock’s voice. Shit. “I believe I have made an error in my reasoning, and I must leave at once to go meditate. I apologize for my unprofessional behavior and I promise to cease immediately. I will see you tomorrow morning at Alpha shift. Good evening.”
Spock turned to leave the quarters before Kirk leapt up to grab him by the shoulders. Though Spock could have easily broken away from Kirk’s grasp, he let himself be turned back around to face Kirk. In the light, Kirk could see the barest hint of wetness in Spock’s eyes. He trembled under Kirk’s touch.
“No, Spock,” Kirk said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so senseless and-”
Spock interrupted him. “I assure you the fault is all mine. If you would just allow me to leave-”
“Why did you never say anything?” Kirk said.
Spock looked at him with a blank expression.
“When we…” Spock looked for an appropriately modest word and could find nothing. “When we ‘made out’, as you so elegantly put it… I believed that I felt a willingness to enter a romantic relationship projected from your mind through our touch. A willingness that I admit I shared. I also made the mistake of presuming my Captain to be aware of the basic cultural tenets of the Vulcan civilization, which I see now was another error on my part.”
Okay, he was being bitchy– this was not unfixable.
Spock continued after a moment, Kirk’s hands still holding him in place by his shoulders. “To answer your question, Captain, I never said anything because I didn’t think it necessary. My third and maybe most egregious error.”
“Spock, I sincerely apologize for my lack of knowledge of Vulcan relationship customs.” Kirk said. “However, are you aware that humans are psi-null? I had no idea that we psychically agreed to be in a relationship weeks ago! Of course, if you would have just told me…” He trailed off. Spock’s eyes widened by a fraction of an inch. “But better late than never, I suppose.”
Kirk let his hands fall back to his sides. Spock stayed planted where he was.
“Jim,” Spock said quietly, questioningly.
“You introduced me to the Vulcan kiss tonight, Spock,” Kirk said. “May I introduce you to the human kiss?” He smiled at Spock and saw his lip twitch up for a split second.
“That would be most agreeable, Captain.” Spock said, his eyes twinkling.
“We’ve been dating for months, I think you better call me Jim.” Kirk grinned as he stepped into Spock’s space, once again grabbing his shoulders as Spock’s arms wound their way around Kirk’s waist.
…
-
“So, what do you think you’ll do when we get back?” asked McCoy.
It was late after Beta shift. Kirk and McCoy were sipping Saurian brandy in McCoy’s office.
Kirk smiled and said, “Well, I have about two months of a relationship to make up for, so I assume I’ll be spending a lot of it with Mr. Spock.”
McCoy toasted his glass before taking another swig. “Chess went well last night, then? And you’re welcome, by the way.”
“We actually never got around to finishing chess..” Kirk said dopily, smiling and raising his eyebrows at McCoy.
McCoy slapped Kirk’s arm with the papers on his desk while Kirk laughed and put his arms up in front of him like a shield. “I told you I didn’t want to hear it, boy!”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You know what I mean,” McCoy grumbled.
The two sipped their drinks for a moment before Kirk spoke up.
“I’m happy, Bones. I’m just really, really happy.”
“Here’s to that,” McCoy said, raising his glass. Kirk clinked his glass against McCoy’s, and they both drained their drinks.