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It was official, in three seconds he was gonna be bored. Three, two... ah! Spock was doing something, he lifted an arm… and then nothing. There, now Captain Kirk was bored. He was bored stiff. He suppressed a yawn as, for a second, he lost sight of his first officer’s inky black eyes. Gosh, he would have thought that to be captain of a Starfleet vessel was something exciting, that they wouldn’t stop for a second, that he had Romulan or Klingon renegades to chase every day – in short, that things would happen.
And they had happened, things, but there were also moments like these where they were on patrol in some random corner of the universe, going around in circles until something happened or their patrol terminated, and all the crew of the Enterprise seemed to have something exciting to do except him. Presently, Mr Sulu was adjusting the autopilot with the help of Scotty, Uhura was translating a text from one unknown language into another unknown language, Chekov had found a fellow compatriot in a technician called Youri and they were exchanging news from their country. Even Bones was occupied containing a gastric epidemic currently rampant in engineering. But coming to Spock, he was in the same position.
When the Vulcan had proposed a game in the cabin, foolishly, he had imagined something sexy. Wrong, Jim. Very wrong. The Vulcan in question used no metaphor or double-entendre when it came to sex. He said “sex”, and when he said “game”, he was talking about chess. Evidently he had developed a passion for the Terran invention and had brought a chess set on board the ship, and for many hours now they had played, each game with only the most honourable of intentions, to the great dismay of the Captain. He had believed he could pass beyond the other man’s icy facade, thinking of the several times where they had “played” as Jim would put it. But no, in that regard, Spock was worse than a woman, and as soon as he was dressed he was returned completely to stoicism. The theory that that mask was due to sexual frustration crumbled in on itself.
Jim was still posing various questions to himself when the Vulcan finally took his turn, after ten minutes of reflection. He asked himself why he had hesitated for so long, he was beating him every time they played anyway. On the verge of cracking, Jim was going to lose it and run naked through the corridors of the Enterprise. An epiphany struck him at this thought and a small smile crept onto his lips.
“Tell me, Spock.”
“Captain?”
“How’d you feel about a little strip chess?”
The Vulcan’s eyebrows furrowed, just a little, as they often did when he was perplexed facing terran customs, and even this little movement, this legible trace of emotion, sent a wave of heat through the blonde’s stomach.
“I comprehend the two words separately, but their association seems, to me…”
“Illogical?”
The brunette nodded his head once, but his eyes stayed affixed to those of the Captain. The advantage of having a non-terran XO/lover/friend/other (delete as appropriate), was that one could tell them anything and pass it off as an obscure custom of the region.
“It’s super simple, we continue the game normally, but every time someone takes a piece, the other person loses a piece of clothing.”
At this the Vulcan’s eyebrows furrowed anew as he tried to comprehend the logic of the proposition.
“Why?”
“Mmm… ‘cause it’s fun?”
“Fun.”
“Spock, I believe I’ve told you already that it’s better if you leave trying to understand the purpose of things Terrans do for their own amusement, in favour of just letting them be what they are. You’ll hurt your head otherwise.”
“With all due respect, Captain, I believe that my intellect is sufficiently capable of comprehending this level of…”
“It’s an expression, Spock, let’s just play.”
“Very well Captain, it’s up to you. And Captain?”
“Mr Spock?”
“This new game – it will have a sexual conclusion?”
Spock, or romanticism. Never both. Jim rolled his eyes and held himself back from muttering something about Vulcans and innuendo.
“That wasn’t precisely the idea per se – but after, if you’d like…”
“No, I like chess. Let’s play.”
Spock and romanticism cooperated only to form a cruel mockery of social grace. Jim restrained a groan and quickly scanned the board before moving a pawn to take one of his opponent’s. He then looked up at him with a small, satisfied smile.
“Captain, I don’t believe that this move is…”
“Lose the commentary, Spock. Hop to it.”
“Very well.”
The Vulcan reached down and removed a boot under the amused gaze of the blonde, before refocusing on the game. Demonstrably, his move was an enormous error, and opened his flank to other attacks, but at least he had been able to take a piece from the other man and lose him a shoe. And that – that was good. He wasn’t thinking of winning the game, not against Spock, but the added spectacle would make the prospect of losing that much sweeter. And when the game was over, if they were naked or close to, perhaps they could end the thing with a “sexual conclusion” after all.