Spock/Kirk Fluff

Speak

--(the next day)--
**(3rd person POV)**
Jim couldn't help but steal glances at Spock anytime he had the chance, and Spock did everything he could to avoid eye contact. Spock thought Jim had been acting more distant since he woke up and couldn't decipher the reason.

Although Spock had convinced himself that once everything was in a way out in the open, he would be able to get over it, but he didn't, he couldn't. Now more then ever, when their eyes did meet, Spock would have to quickly turn away so no one would see his ears turn green.

Jim knew he needed to get Spock alone somehow, something needed to be said. Jim saw his first officer turn a corner down another hall a few paces away and sped to catch up.

"Hey Spock," he said, trying to act normal.

"Hello, captain. How may I help you?"

Wait. Why am I doing this? I can't just tell Spock I want to talk to him alone that would be a dead give away. He would never agree. I should have thought this through more. Shit.

"So Spock, I was wondering, if you had nothing on, I've been missing those games of chess we used to play... maybe we could start another one tonight?"

"Yes, Jim, that sounds enjoyable. What time should I arrive at your quarters?"

"How about around 7:00? **(AN--sry if I'm using the wrong kind of time measurement, I wasn't sure so I'm going by American clocks or whatever their called)**Those games take a while."

"7 it shall be. Pardon me, Captain, I must return to my work."

"Sure Spock."

Spock began to walk off and picked up his pace when Jim turned his back. His ears and face were bright green by now and he hoped that no one would see.

It is only chess. It is only chess. This means nothing. It is only chess. Why would Jim lie? He did not lie, he simply wants to play chess. It is only chess.

--(That Night)--

Jim sat at the small table in his barely larger set of rooms, arranging the pieces on a 3D chess board. He heard a firm knock on the door and didn't have to ask to know who was there.

"It's open, come in."

"Good evening captain."

"Spock, seriously, call me Jim."

Jim had removed his yellow uniform, wearing simply the form-fitting black shirt underneath. Spock had remained in his customary blue.

The game lasted hours, just as Jim had predicted. At some point alcohol was added to the mix, and although Jim was tipsy if not drunk, Spock stayed as level headed as ever.

"Ya' know, Spock," Jim paused, taking another sip of beer, "they say your supposed to talk to people when their in comas."

"Yes ca--Jim, I was aware of that"

"Did you speak to me at all?"

"I--I don't understand?"

"Well," Jim started, putting his beer down, "what's so hard to understand? Did or did you not speak to me?"

"Yes. A small amount, nothing of importance, just updating you on how the ship was doing."

"Spock."

"Yes?"

"I heard you."

As these words escaped Jim's mouth he instantly regretted his burst of drunken bravery. He saw a flicker of fear on Spock's face before it reverted to its monotone state.

"Like I said captain, I simply reminded you of the state of--"

"Don't lie Spock! I heard you! I know what you said!"

"Captain... please stop"

"No, listen, I'm telling you because I lo--"

But before Jim could finish his sentence, Spock caught him by the wrist and stared into his eyes. A rush of Spock's emotions flooded into Jim and he saw everything. He saw just how much Spock loved him and just how afraid he was of it, and he saw Spock's deep need to deny his feelings. Spock was telling him he didn't want to make anything of it, that they could never be together, setting aside their mutual feelings. Jim, flushed with sadness and love and anger wrenched his wrist from Spock's grip, and Spock quickly ran out of the room.
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That night, the young Vulcan sat in his quarters. On the edge of the bed, shaking and sobbing silently. I had heard of the term "heart break" but he never thought he himself would experience it. For in fact, it didn't feel like his heart had been fractured, he simply couldn't breath anymore. He had cried all his tears now all that was left was a Vulcan, an emotional Vulcan, sitting on the edge of his bed, choking on his own breath.

**(don't worry, I'm not done yet)**