Chapter Text
"What're you reading now?" The quiet of the room suddenly was broken by a voice, and Jim sighed, pressing the padd to his chest. Normally, the observation room was empty at this time, providing the best location for somme light reading. However, the heat to his face definitely betrayed that he was enjoying the solitude with nothing but a view of a planet to keep him company for other reasons. He looked to the intruder and watched as Bones made his way into the room, sitting down on the couch where his legs had spread out. A nudge to a socked leg bent Jim's knees and he huffed, audibly, only to see his friend remain unphased.
"A study on Vulcan phsyiology."
"Haha, what are you really reading?" Jim rolled his eyes, and then showed Bones, turning the padd. It was worth it to see the look of shock on his face at least. "Okay, let me rephrase, why are you reading that."
Jim looked over the page again, noting where he had been stuck on. There wasn't a lot made public, but there was enough, especially in the wake of the tragedy, that Jim had a sizeable chunk to read. With Vulcans moving about, most returning to their new home to help repopulate and resettle, books had been made available to ship medical crews and ship captains, should any injuries occur. After today, with an injury that would've killed a human, Jim thought it would be a good idea to study and figure out where Spock's heart was, since it clearly wasn't in the upper part of his chest. It wasn't his fault he got distracted with the section on his hands. "Spock got injured, now I wanna make sure I know what got injured the next time he does. Is that a problem?"
"You know most captains aren't reading that unless they absolutely have to… There are other ways to show interest in someone besides studying their body, Jim." The tone went from teasing to concerned within moments, and Jim supposed that might be a new record.
"Studying people's body is the fun part of being intimate, trust me, I want a very up close an-"
"Oh please shut up. Point is, it's near dinner, and I figured I'd find you before Spock did. Unless you wanna be caught reading about his body." Jim groaned, hating the thought, so he turned around, placing his boots back on. "That's what I thought."
Problem was, now Jim knew things. When Spock handled the delicate petals of a flower in the lab, when Spock's fingers idled over buttons on his console, when Spock placed his hand in the dirt to retreive a dropped mineral speciman- it all brought Jim's attention to his hands. They were, in terms of hands, nice. Strong, dexterous, and Jim knew full well what they felt like wrapped around his throat, or gripping onto his arm, or pressing over a bleeding room. He didn't know how Spock processed that information though, and suddenly, it was all he wanted to know. He had to be subtle though, and Jim really didn't do 'sublety'.
So his first task was some fruit. Easy enough, he got fruit baskets after delegations all the time. When they were offered to make delegations nearby, Jim jumped on the chance, even though his crew groaned. It was far from the exciting work of starmapping, he reminded them, plus he could swing some shore leave this way. That cheered up the overall mood, and Jim did just that. It easily led into the second task too- the planet's dignitaries insisted on writing things out. And the texture of their writing instruments was vastly different than many things on the metal and clean and efficient ship.
So, Jim, feigning Spock's clear superiority and efficiency at signing paperwork, asked him to do so. Yeah, Jim figured, it was a little manipulative to praise Spock and boost his ego at this for his own personal goal, but at least they weren't fighting over work anymore. Spock simply raised an eyebrow at Jim after his little speil. "You do not want to do the work, do you?"
"Their pens drive me nuts. Do you mind them, their texture?" Spock looked to the object in his hand, as everyone else was now involved in talking amongst themselves as Spock and him were doing the same.
"I do not. It is a unique texture not felt on the ship often, and it is pleasant… I will sign then, this time, but next time you will bring your own pen and sign."
"Of course." Jim watched then, and noticed the little ways Spock's fingers brushed against the pen, little blinks following the action. To everyone else they must only see Spock silent, determined and briskly swiping through old fashioned parchment to sign the forms. To Jim, he noticed just how touchy Spock was when something was pleasant to the touch. Jim almost felt bad taking the pen back from him when he absolutely had to sign his name.
As they left, to Jim's delight and Bones's amusement, Jim was gifted a fruit basket, containing local fruits and cheeses. "For you and your Officer First."
"Thank you, Axel of Prav't Delta. I am very certain we'll get enjoyment out of this. Should you ever find yourself in friendly skies of the Enterprise, I would enjoy talking again." They hadn't talked much, if Jim was honest, it was all very succinct until the delegation was over, and then Jim heard fast paced chattering and clicking. Standard seemed infinitely slow in comparison.
"I will keep mind of this. Safe travels, Crew of Enterprise." With that, they beamed up, and Jim turned his sights on Spock as they stepped off the transporter.
"Spock, mind helping me try to finish this off later as we do post-mission review?" Spock seemed a bit surprised, and while it wasn't unusual for Jim to offer to have tea or coffee or even dinner while they did the review, it was unusual for him to eat any fruit basket. Normally Jim would admit he gave it to Spock to do whatever he'd like with it. Right now though, he had a goal. There would be one place where Spock wouldn't have cutlery to eat with, and if Jim was going to see the results he wanted, he needed to use that to his advantage.
"I would not mind, but now, Captain?"
"Sure, why not! I feel a bit snackish, and I did notice that they didn't have any vegetarian options tonight besides something you said tasted like-"
"Bathing water. Yes, I am aware." Spock didn't make a face at that, but his voice did, the tone flat and unimpressed beyond a measurable quanity. "I could partake in some nutritional intake at this time. There are some fruit from Prav't Delta that I particularly enjoy."
"Oh yeah? Tell me about them as we walk." Spock did just that, and Jim ignored the knowing look Bones shot him.
It was so worth it. The fruit was juicy, so while Jim typed with one hand on the computer, the other held a fruit that had only one bite taken out of it. Simply because, after discussing the fruit, Spock naturally picked it first. It looked similar to an Earth dragonfruit, but shaped and reacted like an orange once peeled. Spock had little difficulty peeling it, and that's where Jim stopped paying attention to his own fruit. Red liquid dripped down his thumb, and Spock quickly wiped at it with a napkin. The more he ate however, the more this particularly juicy fruit run rivets down his fingers, gathering in his palm and harmlessly spilling off the side.
Jim contemplated if he had a blood kink, as the red was similar in color, and then Spock did something unthinkable. He licked the juice out of his palm. He was saying something, but between the unblinking twitching in his eye and the sudden hardness between his legs, Jim completely missed it. Until a slightly louder 'Captain?' sounded off and the offending fruit was now an empty peel and back in the basket. "Oh- uh- yes, Spock?" He was not smooth in this instance, and looked down at his report that Spock had been effortlessly writing while tongue-fucking a bloody fruit.
That was just unfair. "I was asking if the fruit you have is not to your liking. As I have been told, it is an odd flavor combination, similar to an Andorrian xixu plant and an Earth apple." Spock watched Jim now, he could see it out of the corner of his eye, and grabbed a smaller, berry type of fruit from the basket, on little sticks. A reprieve for Jim's mind and his hands. He had to have some sensitivity to that.
"Honestly, not the biggest fan. But I'll finish this one. Guess the fruit is fresh though, wasn't aware the juice of that fruit was that red."
"Indeed. It is a very strong flavor as well." Spock did not pick up the other piece of that fruit though, and Jim, for the sake of his own sanity, avoided it as well, allowing the Vulcan to take it after they were done.
It all came to a boiling point however, several more 'coincidental' incidents to expose Spock to new stimuli for his hands, while in Jim's view, when they went down to a planet for a first contact mission. The last experiment was, beautifully, something that vibrated, a tool Scotty needed focused on something and Keenser had been injured. Given how sensitive the repaired device was, Scotty asked Jim for his help. Jim in turn insisted Spock join him, as he had a much more steady aim. So Jim got to watch, and finally catch, the slightest reaction when the device turned on. A brief moment Spock's eyes flickered shut, lashes laying on his cheek, and then he refocused on the task at hand.
All bells in Jim's head rung like a church at noon, and he finally had confirmation that his hands really were sensitive. Then, he was just cursed with the knowledge. Him and Spock weren't together, despite the betting pool he pretended to not know about having that predicted for sooner than later. Spock, while indulgent of Jim's experiments which had to be a little bit transparent by now, had not made any move to question or ask Jim why all of this had continued to occur. Jim was too mortified to say he was turned on by the idea of Spock touching him being enough to cause him pleasure. That particular aspect of his fantasies after all was tame.
None of it mattered though in the face of this mission. "We have to what, Uhura?"
She held out pairs of hand chains- dainty little hand adornments with had thin, metal chains adorned with various gems. Jim's wrapped around three fingers, as he was in charge. Spock's wrapped around two, indicating that he was second in command. And the others only had a chain connecting to a thing ring on their pinkies. "I'm terrible with chains like this though!" He really was, he had no hope on getting these on or off. He'd always tangled his mother's jewelry the few times she insisted he grab it for her, and he only held it for a couple minutes.
"Then have Spock put it on you. This is a requirement, Captain, or they won't recognize you as Captain. The rest of your outfits can remain unchanged, but if any of you don't want hit on, I would recommend wearing a necklace, as necklaces are only worn by couples." Jim groaned, not having a necklace to his name besides a dog collar buried in his closet.
Then Spock grabbed his hand. The contact was so sudden that Jim froze, watching his hands, already adorned with chains around his two middlemost fingers, place the chains gently around his own. "I have great experience with small devices, and it transfers fairly well to clasping this jewelry." Jim huffed, because they had similar experience, but then he couldn't really focus. Spock's hands glittered with the thin chain, distracting Jim from his compliants. His hands were warm too, and where his fingers brushed over skin tingled. He briefly wondered if that was his own sensitivity, or just a reaction to Spock's touch. It seemed the other took his time too, fastening the 'rings', thin chains with central gems, with an abundance of touch. Jim was breathing heavier by the time one hand was done, and then Spock did the other hand with the same level of attention.
By the time he was done, stepping back, all of Jim's gripes about the gems were gone. No one else seemed to notice, so maybe not as much time passed as Jim felt had. "Oh good, you got it on. Alright, now, remember…" Uhura continued to list off the tips for this meeting, but Jim was, or had been, well prepared. Now he could only think of the tingling in his hands, and Spock's careful fingers tracing that last chain before moving away. Questions of what that was swirled in his head, and he walked without truly paying attention until he got on the transporter pad.
Surprisingly, even without a necklace, Jim found himself blessedly without the flirtatious words of the locals. Others were not so lucky and Jim was certain someone nearly just lead by the chains into a broom closet. Turned out a lot of them had things for humans in particular. Jim would've questioned why, but the fact Spock was always right beside him, howevering even, probably scared a good number of people off. He didn't mind that if he was honest.
The mission went well though, and soon enough they were back on the ship. Everyone, including Jim and Spock, took off the jewelry on the transporter pad, depositing it into a bin to be returned to the quartermaster. Jim rubbed the back of his hand with his other thumb, the consistent rubbing maddening. Then he caught Spock's eyes, focused on his hands, and couldn't help the grin. "Relieved to be free of those chains, Spock?"
Spock looked at him and Jim almost felt the need to shiver himself, the look was heated. Jim swallowed before Spock spoke. "They are not unpleasant, however, their very nature is distracting."
"I feel you, think I could only feel the chains the whole time. And I don't even have really sensitive hands."
"Under those circumstances, anyone's hands would have an increased sensitivity of 4.6 percent."
Everyone else was clearing out, so Jim motioned for Spock to join him on the way out, and dutifully Spock was beside him. Almost close enough their hands could brush. Actually, they were close enough for that, as he found out with Spock's hand searing against his, tingling left in the wake of an accidental touch. Oh he was weak before but today he found himself gutted for Spock's hands on him. "You know I never have the ability to argue you on percentages."
"I am aware. I do not say them to be argued on, merely, to give quantifiable evidence to back up my statements."
"How do I know you're not pulling the numbers out of your ass?" They automatically made their way to his ready room, after a brief stop to inform Sulu of the next area they were to go. Then the doors closed, locking them away in the room for their thirty minutes of privacy. Spock still hadn't pulled away from him, even as he made his way to his normal seat, Spock sat beside him.
"You cannot pull numbers, as they are not a tangible object, out of one's anus. Furthermore, understanding the mean of the phrase, you cannot know." Then, as Jim opened the computer's interface from the table, Spock closed it, his hand staying in clear view. And within Jim's space, only inches away from where his hand laid now. "You will simply have to trust in my observational skills."
"Oh yeah, and what are those skills saying now, Mr. Spock?" The room felt heavier, warmer, and Jim wasn't sure it was. He attributed mostly to the way Spock looked at their hands, and then Jim himself, as if sizing up something he wanted to devour.
"They are 'saying' that in the past four months, you have engaged in several instances to stimulate an erogenous zone on my body, either directly or indirectly. You have been cataloguing my reactions, and today, you nearly achieved an erect state from my hands, adorned in those chains, touching yours. In summary, you desire to see me achieve stimulation from my hands for a reason I can only ascribe as sexual or curiosity. Or both."
There was no use in denying it now, and looking back, some of those moments definitely felt intentional. "You've caught me. I figured out your hands could turn you on, and now, I want to do so. Given that you all but kissed my fingers earlier, sorry, embraced, I'm going to hazard a guess you'd like me to do so." Jim knew there was going to be a long period of embarrassment if he was wrong, but he didn't think he was. And by Spock's looks, flicking over his body, and then to the door, he really doubted he was.
"I am agreeable to that. My room, tonight, Jim. Come in through the bathroom." Jim nodded, and then Spock moved back, straightening out his shirt as if he didn't just proposition Jim. Jim had no idea what this was going to do to 'them' as they were now, but he never looked before he leaped before. "Now, the report?"
"Yeah. The report."