Jim turned with the leg, hoping that if Kirk followed, he'd be pulled onto his back. There was a fierce grin on his face, but it was just the glow of friendly competition, everything else melting away. Kirk, like him, didn't adhere to any one style or discipline. And there was a fascinating tug between the natural unpredictability of that, and the sort of body-reading Jim had already noticed when they had been occupied in bed. They knew each other instinctively, the unpredictability not erased by anticipated.