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Spock doesn’t even have a chance to open his mouth in greeting as Jim enters into his quarters. The bags under his eyes are pronounced, and his shoulders are sagged as he crosses the minuscule distance between the door and the lounge chair that Spock is currently seated on.
Spock tilts his head only a fraction of a degree to the left, his legs uncrossing as he sets his book down on the table next to him as Jim all but collapses into his arms, his face falling almost too perfectly into the middle of his chest. One of his hands falls into place at Spock’s side, just over his heart, as the other one snakes around his waist and rests just above the curve of his ass. Jim lets out a heavy sigh, and Spock can feel the heat and humidity of the breath as it travels through the fabric of his regulation black casual wear that he dons when no longer on duty. And if Jim has stated multiple times in previous rendezvous in his room that Spock ‘is so sexy’ and increases his chances of ‘getting lucky’ while wearing only black, then the thought had simply never crossed his mind before.
Jim lets out a strangled moan, pressing his face deeper in the valley between his pecs; an aspect of Spock’s physiology that he knows Jim is not only fascinated by, but also extremely distracted by. He mumbles something unintelligible as Spock’s fingers rise to cup the back of his head; long, nimble fingers carding through locks of blond hair as he feels Jim begin to relax beneath him. Jim’s fingers dip lower and slip under the hem of Spock’s shirt, mumbling something into the fabric as he does so.
“Pardon?” Spock asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over them, if you can term the word of silence when no words have been spoken, but one party has been voicing on borderline obscene noises. Then yes, Spock has broken the silence.
Jim pushes up, his warm hands sliding over the cool flesh of Spock’s skin as he finally pulls his face away just enough so that he could crane his head back and peer up at Spock with pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout. “Let me take your shirt off, babe.” He says, and Spock can’t deny himself the opportunity to bow his head and press his lips against Jim’s forehead, slipping lower to the tip of his nose as they breathe the other in.
Jim smells of the contraband hair products Spock knows he smuggled onboard from their last trip to Risa. The familiar fragrance of the cologne Spock gifted him a few months prior of sandalwood and Vulcan Spice that he had delivered to Star Base 4 when they were docked for supplies. The scent is familiar, and it is almost as calming; if not more so, than the incense he burns during his meditation.
Spock does not respond, instead, he lets Jim divest him of his shirt, not bothering to voice concern as Jim throws it somewhere behind him. Jim rises on his knees, his hands sliding up Spock’s face, fingers conforming to the curve of his jaw and his nails scratching lightly at the base of his ears. Spock lets out a shallow breath, his moan catching somewhere in his throat as Jim leans in, pressing their lips together for the first time since this morning when Jim left his quarters before any other members of the crew would be in the halls.
It’s effervescent; the way their lips slot almost perfectly together. The ease of which Spock closes his eyes, one hand resting over Jim’s heart and the other slides down his back. Jim smiles into the kiss, pressing himself closer to Spock.
When they part, Jim wastes no time in kissing Spock down the column of his throat, teeth scraping oversensitive flesh as a hand brushes through the dusting of hair that has begun to grow on his chest.
Slowly, Jim returns to his original position, his face buried in the valley of flesh between his pectorals. Spock can feel Jim melt against him, and he can feel the steady decrease of a pulse that was tachycardia only a few minutes prior. Jim’s breathing gaining a steady and comforting level that has Spock wrapping his arms tighter around Jim and pulling him impossibly closer to his person.
“You’re the best, Spock.” Jim murmurs into the skin, voice soft as he presses a kiss to Spock’s chest. Spock’s hand finds Jim, entangling their fingers together. Spock wants to bring them to his lips, to kiss them and show Jim just how much he knows he is appreciated. Jim continues, voice heavy, “I love you.”
Despite that it had not been the first time that Jim had voiced such affections to Spock’s person, Spock found that with every instance of voicing it out loud only seemed to make his heart swell. So Spock responded in the only natural, logical way he knew how.
“I love you, too, Jim.” Spock replied, leaning down and pressing his lips to his forehead. There would be time later to show Jim just just how deep his affection ran.