Kirk wasn't entirely sure what the night was going to end up like, but he had some ideas if the party was to say anything. The fact that Bill had agreed to a dinner date at all, when Kirk gave him a definite out on it, was a very pleasant surprise. The way the actor had come straight onto him, even a bit more strongly then Jim himself, and how he
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Kirk flopped down into his chair, feeling it warmed, and sighed as he closed his eyes. "Captain's Log... Stardate..." Hell, he had to think about it. "2258.317. Sometimes... Life sucks." He smirked, leaning back. "End Recording."
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"Jim."
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Spock dared to step a little closer to his side. He could reach out and touch his hand on the arm rest, if he wanted to.
"Jim, I doubt you are connected with the ship in the manner you are projecting. Please amend your statements until they are more truthful."
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He moved forward, placing a knee to either side of Jim's legs, sliding so close with his hands at his shoulders until he finally sat down. In his lap. It was less sexy (as he had--seen heard imagined) and more just getting comfortable, welcoming the relative warmth between Jim's body and the rest of the empty bridge. One hand remained rested on his shoulder, and the other found the nearest patch of skin at his arm, just above the elbow.
"Is this adequate, Jim?" Spock finally looked up at him through long lashes--completely innocent and platonic. Naturally.
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"What brought you up here?" Kirk asked quietly, looking to Spock - did Spock always look like that, surprisingly sensual? - and offering a small smile of his own.
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"Nyota's quarters lack a certain quality when she does not occupy them. I decided to find Yontaya, and she has been known to sleep on the bridge."
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