kirktastic | [Risa, Day 3] -- [Suraya Bay] -- [Spock and Kirk]

Current Location: Risa, Suraya Bay

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[Risa, Day 3] -- [Suraya Bay] -- [Spock and Kirk]

After making plans with Spock and definitely having worked on his tan, Kirk showered, got himself cleaned up, and dressed. A casual sort of button up shirt and dark jeans, something simple and easy for vacation, but if the place was a little fancier, it'd be fine buttoned up fully. He left the top buttons open, for now.

Without the cycle swiped by Bones, Kirk left early so he could walk into town. Not a long walk, about fifteen minutes, but it was made easy by getting a ride from a group of very lovely ladies. He made his goodbyes (not before slipping them his comm information with a promise for fun), and walked along the boardwalk. Almost on intuition, thinking about the dream last night, he stopped in a store briefly and made a quick purchase. With the bag in tow, he headed for the bay proper and looked for Spock.

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Having a lot of sex. Evidently, not enough to stop this from being interesting. Was Kirk's immediate thought. He licked his lips, imagining that ---

Okay, seriously, he had to stop. So he finally just looked away from Spock and towards the ocean. "Relaxing, really. Though I did go surfing with Chris and Dad yesterday. We tried to get Bones on a board but... well, that didn't go so well."

There was a brief rustle of clothing as Jim had his attention drawn away. "I can understand the Doctor's distress. The activity appears to be physically demanding with an unforgiving learning curve, coupled with the possibility of drowning or suffering some other physical injury." More rustling of clothing.

I'm not thinking about him getting dressed. Nope. I'm not. I wonder if Vulcans have normal cocks. ....I didn't think that.

"Long as you can swim its fine." Kirk said, proud that his tone stayed even.

"That skill will little provide assistance while actually on the surfboard."

A rustle that was less like clothing and more like a towel being dropped, a few more moments, and then Spock was right there at his side, standing way too close in that way he always did when he was trying to make Jim uncomfortable (usually with some sort of physical violence or move for the throat). Not-quite-touching but enough to feel the heat, maybe the brush of air molecules between them. Now, instead of the boardshorts, he wore grey pants and a dark periwinkle shirt (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v439/Hisano/004ahc.jpg), the latter of which he was starting to button.

"I do note that you have remained unharmed, despite the activity and the length of time since your last injury." Every day that passed only increased the statistical probability that Jim would suffer something, until it was nigh inevitable. There was not enough data to theorize how many days that would be, exactly.

Kirk glanced over, studying the Vulcan beside him. He grinned softly at the sight of Spock in normal clothing. "...Looking good, Spock." He remarked lightly, sounding highly amused. "And I'm on shore leave. I'm trying not to get hurt." He had a very heavy tease in his voice.

"I do not doubt your instinct of self-preservation, Jim." Except on very rare occasions that involved pride and/or alcohol and/or people in unfortunate situations. "Yet it is something you always express after the fact, when McCoy is already applying the appropriate medical treatments to various wounds."

He finished the second to the last button on the shirt and then turned back to his belongings on the towel. He picked up what looked like a wallet and tucked it into his back pocket, folded and rolled up the damp boardshorts, and began to fold up both towels as well.

"Hey I've got the best doctor in the universe to take care of me, so I'll be fine no matter what." Kirk pointed out with a lazy grin, watching such simple things.

"It's not like I like getting hurt." Eyebrows waggled, "Unless its in bed, of course."

Spock in turn arched an eyebrow at him, but it was less out of confusion and latent annoyance that usually plagued the questioning look. This had more subtle amusement, knowing all the different layers of his words and which ones the other specifically meant. "Of course, Jim."

The combined effect of shore leave and Risa made anything possible. He was not going to be taken back by any of Jim's...unprofessional comments, especially when they were not working. Spock rolled the smaller towel into the larger one, tucked the bundle under his arm, grabbed the padd, slid it between his body and the towels. With his free hand, he then stuffed the regulator into his pocket and grabbed the two swimfins off the sand.

"I must return these supplies, if you will excuse me momentarily." He began to walk towards a cabana, stuffed with supplies of exactly what he was holding, against the mountain face, near the little slip between the rocks that led to other villas. Behind the table of the cabana stood a Risan couple, who were talking animatedly amongst themselves.

Kirk watched Spock walk off, studying him silently. Spock automatically had switched to Jim, and had been, because of the off-duty nature. Spock looked surprisingly good in casual clothing (Kirk wondered if Spock worried about how things went together or anything else in that man's OCD nature) and wore it well.

Kirk thought about that dream, about his own words, about what Spock had told him, and was determined to make this work. Very determined. ...It was a dream, right? He looked down to the bag in his hand, and sighed. Fuck. He was listening to a dream. Maybe it was a sign of going nuts.

He looked down the beach, and smiled a little. In the distance he could see a jetty... maybe they could walk out there and talk.

When he reached the supply cabana, the Risan couple turned to him and seemed to include him in their previous conversation seamlessly, though Spock contributed little to whatever inane topic they had settled on this evening. After handing over everything he had borrowed, they handed him something, which he tucked into his wallet before walking back over to Jim.

One hand idly worked at smoothing his hair. He knew it was less than perfect from the swim, so he maintained realistic expectations about how neat he could make it.

...

Kirk had to remind himself Spock would NOT be doing such things as a come on.

"You up for a walk before dinner?" Kirk suggested lightly, shoving his hands into his pockets, the bag dangling from his wrist. It was a little awkward, mostly because he wasn't sure how to deal with Spock in an off-duty manner exactly, but fuck he was gonna try. It was a challenge to be met.

He looked up from the white sands to Jim, dropping his hand after running it through his hair for the final. Better, but there were still angles he knew weren't supposed to be there. Spock nodded once to his question. "Would you like to walk north or south?"

Kirk gestured into the distance, where the jetty was he had spotted. "That way." Not knowing which direction it actually was.

He took his time walking, just going at a lazy sort of pace. "So how did dinner with Uhura go?" He asked as a curious opening, wondering. He knew so little about their relationship, but honestly was glad Spock at least had someone that loved him like that. Would be good for Spock... not so alone.

"Well." Remembering last night brought simple, welcome warmth up into his thoughts. The sand shifted slightly under their footsteps. "After all of the events that have occurred, it was pleasant to spend the evening with her, without the concern of other appointments following it."

The next statement flowed out of Jim without even thinking about it, "So, did the night end in the hotel?" Eyebrow waggle included.

He glanced sideways at Jim. This behavior was entirely unsurprising, and yet he had failed to predict his exact question. "That is none of your concern."

That just made Kirk laugh and he waved a hand, "Just teasing, just teasing." He offered a grin in return. "I'm glad you're enjoying shore leave, that's all. You two need more time like this."

"We all require more recreation time." Spock looked ahead of them, where the jetty intersected the shore and curved out into the ocean. "Though, you are correct: Nyota and I would enjoy more time together, without our outside obligations." It had always been something to work around, either in the Academy--his teaching, and her classes, not to mention ethics--and now they were officers with a ship to run.

Kirk stepped out onto the jetty, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "I guess everyone needed this." He said quietly, "Know I sure as fuck did. Damn Klingons."

He almost found it--rather amusing, that Jim managed to appear as if he was blaming all of the trouble he had gone through, all of the stress he had to deal with, on simply the Klingons. Spock knew, of course, that he himself had been the cause of a great deal of it, but was oddly content to let the comment slip by without correction or inquiry for clarification. The sand shifted less under their feet, packed tighter by artificial means. He glanced down to the bag that Jim had in his possession. "...What are you carrying?"

"Mm? Eh, just something I thought I'd pick up." Kirk lifted the bag for a moment, then gestured. "Let's have a seat." He stepped up onto the rocks that formed the jetty, found a stone big enough for them both, and plopped himself down. Still dry, the tide farther out.

After a pause, and a few ginger steps follow Jim, Spock sat down beside him, still holding his own refined grace. In this case, enough for them both. He kept his gaze on the distant waves, and waited for Jim to answer his previous question with a straight answer.

Kirk reached into the bag he had brought with him and pulled out a beer, twisting it open and taking a slow sip. "Figure I'd offer but, you want one?" He tilted the beer in Spock's direction.

"No, though thank you for the offer." Spock preferred to limit his alcohol to special occasions where he couldn't logically refuse it. He wondered if that was all Jim had brought.

Kirk leaned back a little, staring out over the ocean, thinking silently for several moments. "So what are your plans for the rest of shore leave?" He asked, keeping it simple for now.

He pulled out something else from the bag. It was a small plastic container. When he popped it open... freshly dipped chocolate strawberries. Dark chocolate ones. He tucked it between them so it wouldn't fall, and popped one out.

He bit into it, his eyes closing. Fuck, if he was wrong, who cared? They were fucking perfect.

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