endeavvor

[endeavvor]

Despite himself, Jim laughs over the rim of his glass — bourbon. The ice clinks against the glass where it falters, though he'd been intent on finally taking a sip. Effectively, Inara had managed to lower his guard where it had raised at her appearance. The flirtatious banter was neither new nor unwelcome.

"Corporal punishment? That's what does it for you?" Jim's brows raise, then he shakes his head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚    spotify  wrapped  prompt.  ┊  @endeavvor:     p!atd,   don't  threaten  me  with  a  good  time

          painted  lips  poise  to  sip  from  a  martini  glass;   a  raspberry  cosmopolitan  hesitates  at  the  rim,   but  it's  made  to  wait  as  she  fields  jim's  comment   —   no  doubt  something  intended  to  tease,   or  infuriate,   or  both.   “ oh  yeah? ”   there's  a  sparkle  in  dark  eyes.   “ don't  threaten  me  with  a  good  time. ”

[endeavvor]

James Kirk does not say I love you.

It does not mean he's incapable of doing so, just that he actively chooses not to. When he was eleven, his mother came home and left her PADD within the reach of her son's clever hands. It took him approximately two minutes and forty-five seconds to get in to it and find what he was looking for.

George Kirk's last transmission.

Jim does not say I love you, because the sound of his father's voice in his final moments are burned into the back of his mind. As if saying it will break that spell. As if saying it will doom whoever he deems worthy of his heart.

twelve days of kirkmas ⸻ eight / twelve

[endeavvor]

Spock could not be blamed. Jim had effectively baited him and internally groans at the prospect of backtracking now for something that bordered on childish delight. Unfortunately, he recognizes a losing point when he sees one and knows Spock won't back down either.

It's the level of severity that settles over Spock's expression. The tenderness in the reassurance that Jim's thoughts do matter — a fact he knows intimately and had no intention of taking as a dismissal. His intention was to continue to drop it, and push for getting to the promised after that trails heat down his spine to settle in his chest.

But Spock plays him, rather effectively.

You always have my thoughts, Jim counters, but is still shuffling his weight so that he can rise up on his elbows. It causes some unfortunate displacement of Spock's own within the confines of the hold he'd been trapped in, but he had asked to circle back.

Therefore, the delay is Spock's fault — or so he'll tell himself when his cheeks flush slightly.

"Pinky out." Jim nudges, command creeping into his tone. Vulcans have a long standing reverence about hands that, through the duration of their relationship, has shown transference, but there is a refusal to let it happen here. So he waits, and when Spock gives in, Jim hooks his own pinky around it. "Technically speaking, if you go with the traditional origin of the story, breaking a promise made by interlocking pinkies results in the guilty party having to cut off their digit." Which could explain exactly why it had fascinated Jim so much as a child, but that's something to delve into at a later date. "But humans are weird and try to make everything light hearted, so it can also be used to solidify friendship, family bonds, or personal commitments."

Sound familiar? The tone is almost playful.

"I can't bound you to me the way you can, and have," It's said pointedly, because there is still much for them to discuss later. "But either way, cross my heart and hope to die, I'm in."

@fasciinating

He had arrived at an illicit conclusion too soon, it would seem, when taking Jim’s pause and aborted correction into account. But with grazing lips, having been tucked inside Jim’s knees, Spock cannot say that he was entirely incorrect in his assumption.

Could he be blamed?

Jim — and in moments like this — relaxed and raw and real, is an overt temptation that Spock has exceedingly lessened resistance to. It was an inevitability before he knew it — an impossible, ironically, unwinnable task — and despite his better judgement in maintaining an arm’s length out of reach, he does not think he can.

A fact to be demonstrated once they have moved inside. But still, there was — perhaps, is — something that he overlooked in lieu of a notion more familiar.

He shakes his head in turn.

“It does, Jim,” he insists, it does matter, and tilting his head fractionally, he follows the curve of Jim’s smile. It is devastating, he thinks, the weaponized glance of that expression that slices through Spock like a razor, and laments to himself in how simple — how easy — it all is to be so thoroughly convinced by the mere look on Jim’s face.

Jim’s eyes are bright under the moonlight.

“I would have your thoughts.” He says, seeking forgiveness and a promise to share his own when he kisses the corner of Jim’s mouth. Then I would have you; a message across their link and a challenge to argue otherwise.

If you will allow me.

@endeavvor

[endeavvor]

When a member of Starfleet is lost while acting in the line of duty, it is incumbent upon their commanding officer to make notification. Most Captains use a template provided to them during their command training, or delegate this task to their First Officers.

Jim is an exception to this rule.

He has taken time to get to know each member of his crew. Is always able to readily recall names, give easy smiles, and ask after their families, pets, hobbies, and projects. Whatever makes them excited and animated, listening intently for however long they need ( for the most part, he's been trapped in a room with a few that don't entirely know when to stop, Montgomery Scott notwithstanding, and has had to politely extricate himself ).

When Jim loses a member of the crew, he locks himself in his quarters and makes notifications himself. He will call their families personally, and follow up with letters.

This is his penance as equally as it is his grieving process.

twelve days of kirkmas ⸻ seven / twelve

[endeavvor]

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I can do.

[endeavvor]

Despite the ease with which he follows Spock down the hall, the Captain doesn't make it a habit of coming down here. Not after he'd been accused of being distracting, or absorbing the majority of his Chief Science Officer's attention —

— by an Ensign who is blissfully absent when they cross the threshold. A pettiness that exists simply to vex that individual deflates slightly and returns to the task at hand.

Studying the sloping of Spock's shoulders down to the space between them.

He can survive the next few hours.

"I assumed you were looking for a debate with how quickly you chose to correct me — unless it was just to lure me down here to witness your multitasking in full."

His hands are still at his back. But Spock’s pace has slowed as he strides out of the lift, taking silent solace in the footfalls that follow him without hesitation.

The sound etches into his memory, come alive. That he expected as much ripples softly against the desert that connects them, red grains trembling with knowing; the day, itself — Thursday — was never lost on him.

James Kirk is often insatiable in this way, untamed and governed by a confidence only matched by the strength of a neutron star. Where Spock exudes subtlety, the Captain is vociferous, unwilling to be ignored.

A quiet tick of amusement ghosts at the corner of Spock’s mouth.

“A curious perspective,” he retorts smoothly, using his bio signature to access lab four. “If debatable.”

[endeavvor]

It's not Wednesday, it's Thursday.

While one is a day of avoidance, the other is meant to rectify, but Spock was suspiciously absent this morning, and then rather cool in his greetings when they finally did come together. Jim's intention, however, was not to push the boundaries of their professionalism.

Still, he finds himself leaning in to the brush of warmth on his cheek. The way it dimples beneath Spock's lips before he is left cooler from the absence, with his brows denting in the middle. The promise of later heated, but still finds himself chasing when the lift opens.

Stepping out —

— continuing their prior discussion as if nothing happened at all.

"As I was saying, Commander." His pause is deliberate, waiting to be called on his choice of action. "I cannot be blamed for what happens while we are charting unexplored deep space. I have to react for the good of the crew — if the end result is baiting an unknown species, well, come what may, as they say."

A beat passes.

And then another.

Looking over Jim’s face, the notion that the Captain is purposefully behaving erroneously has begun to rattle behind his eyelids. Spock narrows his own scrutiny for it, skimming for the reason for this — teasing — as it were.

Earlier, he considers Jim desired more than he received. Alone in the lift together, there was no objective excuse for Spock’s self-imposed distance. Three point two centimeters is not a mile.

But for Jim, Spock can acknowledge that distance might as well have been lightyears in comparison.

He takes a step closer. They are not so dissimilar in height. Spock peers down his nose, nonetheless, leaning smoothly around the side of Jim’s face to press his lips — ever briefly — to the Captain’s cheek.

The lift stops and Spock pulls straight to retreat. The timing is impeccably convenient.

“Perhaps, another time, Captain.”

[endeavvor]

For Jim, Wednesdays are the worst days of the week. They are the days that keep him slightly off kilter, and is generally why he will keep himself occupied by filling this day with meetings from the moment he wakes until it is time to call it an evening. It is a large day of avoidance, and when it finally breaks, and the clock turns to Thursday morning, he finds considerable peace as the world rights itself again.

Thursdays are his favorite.

twelve days of kirkmas ⸻ six / twelve

[endeavvor]

Jim much prefers this, facing off against Spock where he can actually see the nuances of the Vulcan's expression — using it to gauge the effectiveness of his argument. It is the equivalent of cutting someone's wrist in a fight and then applying pressure to force them to drop their weapon.

Of course, now the Captain is simply being facetious.

"Most people wouldn't accuse their commanding officer of being wrong." Then again, Spock has never been most people. "Enlighten me then."

Spock will not reaffirm to Jim that his memory is eidetic. He can recall each of these events with an immediacy as simple as breathing. And again, while the Captain is highly intelligent, Spock is, and more evident each passing millisecond they stand against one another, Vulcan.

Arguably, his version of events is much clearer.

“I was.” He agrees. Spock tilts his head fractionally, cataloging the look on Jim’s face. A push, for the push he receives, “You are misremembering.”

[endeavvor]

Jim had dangled bait in front of Spock in the form of an inaccuracy and it had proven to be successful. Spock rounds on him, and he doesn't even try to hide his smugness towards the sudden proximity.

"One was my fault, the other five were not."

Another arguable point that could serve as an expert distraction. The contemplation to be truly annoying is there. His fingers itch to reach out, begin pressing buttons on the lift. For now, he refrains.

"You were also present for each and every one."

Once, is an egregious inaccuracy.

Spock could detail at least five separate occurrences in the past six months alone.

But despite that discrepancy, he doesn’t. He has no need to. Instead, his foot pivots, taking him in front of Jim and partially blocking the door.

“It was not.”

[endeavvor]

Perhaps — admittedly — he'd gotten slightly complacent with his tact due to his level of comfort with Sulu. This was likely his first briefing of this magnitude and Jim has not forgotten his own jitters. Excitement tinted with nerves. It happened to the best of them, and at least Sulu isn't picking at his sleeves to the point of fraying them. Still, Jim reaches out, clamping a hand on the other Captain's shoulder and squeezes. Lets the weight of it speak for the pride coupling with the way his lips part to grin easily, even as they shuffle in and find places to settle.

"I've heard some things, but nothing out of the ordinary. Klingons pushing the boundaries of the neutral zone. Cloaked ships possibly being picked up by scanners that they believe could be Romulans." But nothing to overtly suggest them entering into a time of outright warfare. It's still a cold front, and Jim suspects the leadership would appear more grim if that were the case. "Most of the fleet is focusing primarily on expansion and exploration. Maybe they feel like we've gotten lax with the known threats and just want to remind us to not lose sight of the terrors — Command should just put Bones in front of a projector for an hour and none of this would be needed."

MIND FLICKS TO MANY years ago. A sudden stab to his chest as he inhales. Not only had the crews beliefs been shattered, but Hikaru's family had nearly perished as well. But he doesn't want sad times to dampen this joyous reunion. So he ups his smile, just a tad. Jim is here. And they stand on equal ground. Hikaru's chest swells with pride, hoping that Jim feels that same sense of what Sulu has become.

His shoulder knocks with Kirk's as they fall in line with the rest of the high ranking Starfleet members, walking into a conference room. This one is circular with stadium seating.

"I haven't heard any whispers about change in leadership, a shake down, or policy reform." His brow furrows slightly. "Nor have I heard rumblings of war." A trickle of unease snakes across his gut. "I can't think of what it could be."

[endeavvor]

His selection of the upper decks was admittance enough — he had intended to follow Spock and continue to push until he relented and confided what was truly the distraction this morning.

Hindsight will leave his pride more bruised than carrying on with their days.

Not that Spock is making it easy with the way his stare finally catches against Jim's profile — and the eyebrow.

"It was one time."

Jim’s selection of the upper decks, after the fact, is answer enough.

Still, he stares at it, the panel in the lift, suddenly questioning the rise of disappointment that blooms and disperses in his chest like a wave settling against the sand.

They had separate agendas this morning; he knew this. The Captain reminds him of that reality with mention of the stars. It is — mostly — an acceptable distraction from the urge to stall the lift. He has another minute and thirty seven seconds before arriving at his destination.

He turns slightly and an eyebrow rises.

[endeavvor]

"I didn't say you weren't proficient, I just suggested that if you needed to take time for your other duties. You can. Just as I can handle the bridge."

He is the Captain. As Spock likes to remind him every time he opens his mouth to address Jim while on duty; but the thought is still drenched in irritability.

As is his subsequent movement of reaching out and pressing the button for the floor that will take him where he needs to go. Which is in the opposite direction. That they've already passed.

"Before you take that offer any kind of way other than how I'm intending it," Because Jim is intimately familiar with how Spock's processing can work on that route. "I am not, and have never questioned your capabilities. All I'm saying is, you have more than one role on this ship. Both require your undivided attention. You need time, take it."

This is not how they were meant to start their Thursday mornings.

"Besides, we're just charting the system today, how much trouble could I really get in without you?"

That statement alone, is objectively sound. There are others qualified to operate his station while Spock is attending to his other duties.

It sharpens something at the back of his skull, nonetheless.

He stiffens, taller than he is.

“I am proficient at multitasking.” He says; he is doing so right now. As there are assessments that he must perform, he has approximately four point six hours of work left on the last of the diagnostics he was running, then another one point five on science reports.

Then, there is the matter of transferring some of his belongings into Jim’s quarters.

The latter was meant to be a surprise. He had thought — and perhaps that thinking was of an unVulcan quality he unfortunately possesses — that humans enjoyed surprises.

A miscalculation on his part. He does not hold the benefit of it being a Wednesday.

“Do you intend on following me to the labs?”

[endeavvor]

Unbelievable.

No, Spock wouldn't express multiple attitudes simultaneously — coy being one of the many he could think of in the immediacy, amongst variously colored others — because he is Vulcan, and Vulcans have standards.

Well, Jim is Human. The side eye given prior to them rolling towards the ceiling is cool —

— Petulant dismissal and unsatisfactory responses it is then.

"If you need more time to focus on your work, all you have to do is ask. I can afford to have someone else man the science console on the bridge."

Petulance is not in his habit.

But despite the events that have evolved them — brought them together — this is a grounding constant that may never change.

Jim pushes, always, relentless in that way, and to the contrary of his desires to maintain control of his responses, Spock inevitably — unhelpfully — returns that push.

“I am hardly coy, Captain.” Or indifferent.

He is Vulcan.

And perhaps, to that end, it is the reason he is aware that Jim will not approve of that reply either.

“I have several experiments that I must provide consideration or attention to. Unless your preference has deviated from awaiting the same information I will deliver in my report, they do not require your scrutiny at this time.”

[endeavvor]

Spock relents, and Jim's shoulders relax fractionally. Though his posture is still rigid despite the way he automatically leans forward.

"Don't be coy, Mister Spock, there is a difference between professionalism and indifference. You're correct, I don't approve of the later, and like I said, there's clearly something on your mind. I was simply trying to present you an opening to share." A pause.

"If you're then implying that it's a personal matter and requesting that this conversation wait the next eight hours until our shift concludes, I am amendable; but I will not approve of that either." The Captain's brows raise, utilizing Spock's purposeful vernacular for emphasis.

He is aware of that phrasing, the meaning in it. Affirming Jim’s suspicions serves nothing. But it was never Spock’s intention to be cold. Inhaling through his nose, he moves closer, blue grazing gold when he exhales out of his mouth.

“We are on duty,” he explains. “I was attempting to reflect that fact, Captain.”

A beat.

“Clearly, you do not approve.”

[endeavvor]

"Captain." His greeting holds equal measures of warmth and pride. It had never been a secret that Sulu wanted to seek a captaincy of his own, Jim had just hoped his departure wouldn't leave as large of a gap in the crew as it had. It didn't help he'd taken their navigator as well, and the two that stepped in to those roles didn't work quite as smoothly.

Jim could also be blamed for not taking the natural progression with them. It had been heavily implied he apply for a promotion to admiral, leaving open the Enterprise and its crew for Sulu to step in to, but he'd refused.

"I don't, but considering the secrecy and the amount of command staff I see...I just hope this turns out better than the last meeting I attended like this."

@he1msman

SMILE, FREE OF ALL RESTRAINTS of strict upbringing adorns his face. Together, he stands with his fellow Captain. Two twins in gold.

Hikaru extends his hand, gripping Kirk's with a welcoming embrace before he draws the other inwards. "Captain," he greets, patting Jim on the shoulder before he releases him. The halls of Starfleet HQ are abuzz with activity, brushing against Sulu's senses. "It's good to see you." Hikaru's smile drops just a bit. "Do you know why they called us back to earth?" @endeavvor

[endeavvor]

Despite the irrevocably broken relationship with his mother, Winona gave Jim three pieces of advice he still follows to this day:

Always have a nice suit in your closest - this one is particularly important because he does not always feel his dress uniform is appropriate for diplomatic occasions. Often times, the amount of brass displayed across his chest reminds him of a bird preening their feathers to get the attention of a mate. So he'll opt for the plain black suit that is tailored perfectly to his form. A different form of weaponry than flashing his Captaincy.

Always introduce yourself as James because it is professional and powerful. The name of a king, and demands respect. You can then follow up with the preference of asking those closest to you to call you Jim. A nickname invites people in, shows them comfort, and can be disarming.

Finally, and most notorious: it's okay to be scared, but do it anyways. The common misconception is that Jim is fearless, but it's just not true. The very core of human nature is to fight for survival, and that triggers a fear response in the brain. Fight or flight. Jim is no exception to this. His bravery isn't a lack of fear, it is because in the face of fear, he will do it anyways.

twelve days of kirkmas ⸻ five / twelve