Fic: Chivalry
Title: Chivalry
Series: ST XI
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 875
Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately.
Notes: Written for a fic meme, for hilsongirl who requested “Kirk/Spock first date.”
Summary: Jim wants his first date with Spock to be perfect, but things don't go as planned. Silliness and pure unabashed fluff.
It was supposed to be perfect.
Flowers, dinner, wine. Touching and flirting and dancing. Maybe even a kiss or two, and the possibility of something more.
Spock's shyness, Jim's charm, it was all supposed to work together to result in the perfect first date.
Naturally, as was the pattern in Jim Kirk's life, things did not go as planned.
*
The flowers gave him hives on his hands. That should have been the first sign that things weren't going to go well.
He tossed them in a disposal shoot on the way to Spock's room, and was frantically wiping his hands on his pant legs when Spock opened the door.
“Itchy,” was all he could think to say when he was faced with Spock wearing civilian clothes and looking gorgeous. Suave, Jim, he thought to himself.
*
He'd picked the restaurant specifically for his date with Spock. It came highly recommended -“great food and expensive wine”- and was supposed to have a wide selection of vegetarian options.
In hindsight, he should've realized it was a bad idea the moment they walked through the door. Drunken patrons shouted to each other across tables, tipsy on wine and good food. A man with a guitar traveled from table to table, warbling off-key as he covertly sipped alcohol from a flask.
The food was acceptable, but the conversation was non-existent as they soon grew tired of shouting at each other over the noise.
The wine was a no-go when Spock reminded him that Vulcans don't drink alcohol. Jim silently berated himself as he set the unopened bottle back in the chiller.
*
The dancing was off before it even began. Spock was adamant, “Vulcans do not dance.”
Jim begged and pleaded, gave his best pout, but Spock would not relent.
*
The walk through the park was a last-minute idea, suggested out of desperation when Jim feared Spock was going to turn tail and run.
It seemed like a safe enough option. Trees, streams, dimly lit paths. Plenty of opportunity for quiet talk and flirtation.
But, of course, Jim had to take his chivalrous nature a step too far.
He'd seen it in old Earth movies. A mud puddle. A guy who doesn't want his date to get wet. He made the move before he had time to give it a second thought. A bit silly, a bit chivalrous, but ultimately sweet he figured.
Also, absolutely ridiculous.
Spock stared blankly as Jim's coat hit the puddle.
“Jim, what is the purpose of throwing your coat in the mud?”
Jim cringed. “So you can step on it, instead of having to step in the puddle.”
Spock's brow furrowed as he turned to Jim. “An illogical decision. I am perfectly capable of stepping around the puddle, and now your coat is ruined.”
There was no denying he was right, and Jim groaned inwardly as he fished the garment out of the water.
The walk back was silent and awkward, with Jim's arm outstretched carrying his sopping wet coat.
*
As they stood at the door of Spock's hotel room, Jim ran his hand nervously through his hair. His eyes moved from the floor, to the wall, and back, attempting to look anywhere but in Spock's direction.
“I'm sorry tonight was so awful,” he mumbled.
Spock shifted, attempting to catch Jim's gaze. “Awful, Jim?”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, fucking awful. And I'm not even going to try to kiss you, because I know it'll just end in disaster.”
Spock gave him a curious look before taking his hand.
Jim couldn't help but laugh. “We're kissing right now, aren't we?” As preparation for their date he'd researched Vulcan customs and he knew what hand-holding meant in Spock's culture.
A slight smile moved over Spock's mouth. “Yes, we are.”
They were silent for a moment, simply staring at each other, before Spock spoke. “I am content to simply be with you, Jim.”
“With me?”
Spock nodded “Yes, in your presence.”
“Oh,” Jim replied dumbly.
Spock continued, “I did not find our evening to be awful. Not ideal, perhaps, but I enjoyed spending time with you.” He smiled softly. “Despite your flights of illogic.”
“Yeah, the coat in the puddle was stupid,” Jim replied with an embarrassed grin.
“Nonsensical, perhaps, but not stupid.”
Jim laughed. “Same thing.”
He laughed even louder when Spock didn't argue.
“I like spending time with you too,” he said quietly after catching his breath. “And you're actually pretty damn funny, in your own way.”
Spock leaned in at that moment, pausing briefly to speak, “I am going to kiss you, Jim.”
Jim nodded.
Spock moved closer. “And I am certain it will not end in disaster.”
His mouth met Jim's then, soft lips pressing against Jim's own. It was sweet and simple and perfect.
Jim smiled when Spock pulled away. “Not a disaster,” he whispered.
“Indeed,” Spock replied.
Jim gave Spock's hand a squeeze. “I think I'll leave it to you to plan our second date.”
Spock smirked as his eyebrow shot up in amusement. “A logical decision, Jim.”
Series: ST XI
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 875
Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately.
Notes: Written for a fic meme, for hilsongirl who requested “Kirk/Spock first date.”
Summary: Jim wants his first date with Spock to be perfect, but things don't go as planned. Silliness and pure unabashed fluff.
It was supposed to be perfect.
Flowers, dinner, wine. Touching and flirting and dancing. Maybe even a kiss or two, and the possibility of something more.
Spock's shyness, Jim's charm, it was all supposed to work together to result in the perfect first date.
Naturally, as was the pattern in Jim Kirk's life, things did not go as planned.
*
The flowers gave him hives on his hands. That should have been the first sign that things weren't going to go well.
He tossed them in a disposal shoot on the way to Spock's room, and was frantically wiping his hands on his pant legs when Spock opened the door.
“Itchy,” was all he could think to say when he was faced with Spock wearing civilian clothes and looking gorgeous. Suave, Jim, he thought to himself.
*
He'd picked the restaurant specifically for his date with Spock. It came highly recommended -“great food and expensive wine”- and was supposed to have a wide selection of vegetarian options.
In hindsight, he should've realized it was a bad idea the moment they walked through the door. Drunken patrons shouted to each other across tables, tipsy on wine and good food. A man with a guitar traveled from table to table, warbling off-key as he covertly sipped alcohol from a flask.
The food was acceptable, but the conversation was non-existent as they soon grew tired of shouting at each other over the noise.
The wine was a no-go when Spock reminded him that Vulcans don't drink alcohol. Jim silently berated himself as he set the unopened bottle back in the chiller.
*
The dancing was off before it even began. Spock was adamant, “Vulcans do not dance.”
Jim begged and pleaded, gave his best pout, but Spock would not relent.
*
The walk through the park was a last-minute idea, suggested out of desperation when Jim feared Spock was going to turn tail and run.
It seemed like a safe enough option. Trees, streams, dimly lit paths. Plenty of opportunity for quiet talk and flirtation.
But, of course, Jim had to take his chivalrous nature a step too far.
He'd seen it in old Earth movies. A mud puddle. A guy who doesn't want his date to get wet. He made the move before he had time to give it a second thought. A bit silly, a bit chivalrous, but ultimately sweet he figured.
Also, absolutely ridiculous.
Spock stared blankly as Jim's coat hit the puddle.
“Jim, what is the purpose of throwing your coat in the mud?”
Jim cringed. “So you can step on it, instead of having to step in the puddle.”
Spock's brow furrowed as he turned to Jim. “An illogical decision. I am perfectly capable of stepping around the puddle, and now your coat is ruined.”
There was no denying he was right, and Jim groaned inwardly as he fished the garment out of the water.
The walk back was silent and awkward, with Jim's arm outstretched carrying his sopping wet coat.
*
As they stood at the door of Spock's hotel room, Jim ran his hand nervously through his hair. His eyes moved from the floor, to the wall, and back, attempting to look anywhere but in Spock's direction.
“I'm sorry tonight was so awful,” he mumbled.
Spock shifted, attempting to catch Jim's gaze. “Awful, Jim?”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, fucking awful. And I'm not even going to try to kiss you, because I know it'll just end in disaster.”
Spock gave him a curious look before taking his hand.
Jim couldn't help but laugh. “We're kissing right now, aren't we?” As preparation for their date he'd researched Vulcan customs and he knew what hand-holding meant in Spock's culture.
A slight smile moved over Spock's mouth. “Yes, we are.”
They were silent for a moment, simply staring at each other, before Spock spoke. “I am content to simply be with you, Jim.”
“With me?”
Spock nodded “Yes, in your presence.”
“Oh,” Jim replied dumbly.
Spock continued, “I did not find our evening to be awful. Not ideal, perhaps, but I enjoyed spending time with you.” He smiled softly. “Despite your flights of illogic.”
“Yeah, the coat in the puddle was stupid,” Jim replied with an embarrassed grin.
“Nonsensical, perhaps, but not stupid.”
Jim laughed. “Same thing.”
He laughed even louder when Spock didn't argue.
“I like spending time with you too,” he said quietly after catching his breath. “And you're actually pretty damn funny, in your own way.”
Spock leaned in at that moment, pausing briefly to speak, “I am going to kiss you, Jim.”
Jim nodded.
Spock moved closer. “And I am certain it will not end in disaster.”
His mouth met Jim's then, soft lips pressing against Jim's own. It was sweet and simple and perfect.
Jim smiled when Spock pulled away. “Not a disaster,” he whispered.
“Indeed,” Spock replied.
Jim gave Spock's hand a squeeze. “I think I'll leave it to you to plan our second date.”
Spock smirked as his eyebrow shot up in amusement. “A logical decision, Jim.”