Sometimes Spock just needs to hear a soft "Don't."
His fingers are close enough to be a missing variable.
It's more of trying not to than real actions anymore.
"Captain, just why should I 'owe you dinner'?"
"You probably think the whole thing's frivolous..."
"Just the same. Happy birthday."
6. first time
Spock's forearms cringe up over his face to try to hide the want, the release. Jim just groans and scolds: "Nuh-uh."
"Hey, could you...please stop hitting on my first officer?" Jim mutters under his breath. "It's probably freaking him out."
Jack Harkness just casts a look between the captain and Spock, smirks and says to himself, "I thought so."
Everyone is too busy trying to pay attention to the ambassador's speech to notice Spock practically shivering in his chair at the banquet. Kirk tries not to grin too wide, while under the table his fingers slide another caress between the long knuckles.
Jim screams out a wordless exclamation as a bullet takes out the driver's side mirror.
"Fucking Sigma Iota!" He yells, ripping the pedal to the floor just in time to swerve out of the path of another gunshot, causing Spock to buck halfway out of the window where he's wielding a perfect imitation of a twentieth century machine gun. "We should've listened to Sp - you - old you on this one!"
"JIM, WILL YOU PLEASE CONCENTRATE ON DRIVING CORRECTLY?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but—I think we met a long time ago. You may not recognize me, I'm Jim Kirk?..."
"That is highly improbable, given that I am clearly a Vulcan, and resided on Vulcan until joining Starfleet—"
"But..." Jim relentlessly, slowly demands, "Were you not raised on Earth with your mother for the duration of the secession from the Federation? There weren't a whole lot of Vulcans running around in Iowa, it's not like I would've forgotten your name."
Spock is listening now, though there is still a trace of irritation in his face.
"I swear, you lived just down the street from me. James T. Kirk, that doesn't ring a bell?"
"...James T.—" Spock drops his instruction PADD to the table and leans his side into it, crossing his arms and giving Jim a shadow of how-about-that in his eyes. "You are 'J.T.'?"
Jim nods, grinning. "You remember?"
"I rescued you from a schoolyard brawl when you were eleven."
"Well. I don't know about rescued..."
And there, he still shows his years of being among humans as he gives the cadet the slightest smirk of recognition and declares, "You haven't changed much."
"You have. But that's okay."