It had been a long day on the Enterprise, and Spock had a raging headache. The only reason he had been able to make it through the day was the thought of going back to his quarters and finally being able to rest. To finally be able to take his hearing aids out and enjoy silence.
Hearing aids had come a long way, but they were still uncomfortable after long days like this, and Spock couldn’t wait to take his out. He slipped them out and off his ears, letting his eyes slip shut in pleasure for just a moment. He turned them off, less worried about the whistling they were probably doing, and more to conserve energy.
Hey! Jim signed lazily from the bed, his motions catching at the corner of Spock’s eye. Spock allowed himself a slight turning of the lips, something only Jim ever drew from him. He nodded at Jim, before slipping his uniform off and neatly folding it. He placed the folded uniform on the chair, and left his hearing aids right on top. He had never lost them, but that was because he was always so careful.
Jim Spock acknowledged, using the sign name Spock himself had given Jim. The smile that Jim gave him in return, though he looked as exhausted as Spock, was bright and beautiful. He slipped into the bed beside Jim, where he was already barechested and warming the blankets. Jim dragged him close and pressed his face to Spock’s neck, wrapping himself around Spock and breathing him in.
The silence and Jim’s presence already were working to melt away Spock’s headache. Sometimes he wondered why he ever left this room, why he put on his hearing aids to be bombarded by noise and the effort of talking. Of course, then he remembered how much he enjoyed his work; exploring and studying new worlds. He would live in the world of noise and headaches because his work was worth it.
Jim found his hands, stroking down Spock’s arms lightly and then pressing closed fists into Spock’s palms. Spock couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. Sign Language was one of the wonders Jim had introduced him to, or at least, the acceptance of sign language. Tactile signing was something new altogether, and a dirty secret. Spock would admit to no one else his pleasure at using tactile sign.
In their position, laid out on the bed with very little space in between them, it was awkward and illogical to communicate as such. Not when they could meld and communicate that way. Jim knew how much Spock enjoyed signing, how deprived he had been of it all his life, and especially how much he enjoyed tactile.
Today was long, Jim’s hands moved under Spocks, forming the words and exaggerating them to show just how long the day felt. Spock’s breath caught in his throat and he had to swallow to clear it. He could feel Jim’s amusement through his skin, he knew how much Jim enjoyed his pleasure, how amusing it was to Jim that it would, to this day, make Spock gasp and flush.
Spock slipped his hands under Jim’s, switching their positions fluidly, like he had done countless times before. It was. I found that I am most pleased that it is over. Spock could feel Jim’s breath on his neck, could feel how it stopped and started, could feel the rumble of his chest as he laughed.
It wasn’t so bad, Spock. He flushed, feeling Jim stroke his ears. It was Bones who had given him the name sign, but Jim used it liberally. He added a little twist, and when they were in the privacy of their quarters, he’d always stroke Spock’s ears, instead of his own.
Jim then went on about his day, which was eerily similar to his own, Spock feeling his hands move between them. He kept his eyes shut, choosing to just feel Jim’s words. It was particularly pleasant because he could feel Jim’s emotions behind the signs. Jim was just saying anything to continue signing, Spock knew, but he could hardly complain.
Finally, and too soon all at once, Jim said and now I’m exhausted. Spocks eyes fluttered open to see Jim’s, eyes bright and happy, but tired. Jim smiled beautifully and lazily touched Spock’s temple, stroking at the sensitive meld point.
Yes, we should sleep. Spock agreed, and pulled Jim closer to him. The lights dimmed, and Spock gathered that Jim had spoken to the computer. He was a better speaker than Spock, more comfortable with it even though he didn’t prefer it, his accent not as thick even without his implant processor on. Spock didn’t like to think why that was so.
He wrapped himself around Jim, pressing Jim’s back to his chest. He placed his hands over Jim’s, so that they could continue to murmur sleepily to each other as they drifted off. It was how they had fallen asleep for a long time, and Spock didn’t want it to change.