Written For: st_xi_kink, prompt: K/S. Spock is ticklish, Jim finds out. Naturally, Spock would never admit that he secretly enjoys it...
Notes: If someone wants to write a porny continuation of this, I'd love you forever. Especially with moar tickling in it.
Kirk thought he was getting the hang of this. As long as they were alone, he could kiss him whenever he wanted, now, and touch him, and though the Vulcan had been utterly reluctant to include casual contact in the list of Things Kirk Was Allowed To Do (which had come after they both had, and Kirk had never thought he'd be disgruntled by someone putting sex on the list before a hand on the shoulder) he was slowly getting the feeling that Spock was coming to enjoy the feeling of those brief touches. It had only been tolerance, at first, but now when Kirk reached a hand to bridge the gap between them - never far, not when they were alone together - he very nearly almost sort of leaned into it.
Kirk liked touching. One of the reasons he'd had so many lovers was that he simply loved contact, loved to feel someone else close to him, and when the nights were long and Bones was crabby and he had five essays to write by the next day, he went out, searched for someone he could lose himself in.
It was a wonder he got any of his homework done.
Sometimes, though, sometimes all he'd wanted was to have someone he could go to, and stick his head in their lap, and get his reading for Strategy and Tactics done without having to be alone.
But he didn't have the sort of friends who would let him do that, not in Starfleet Academy, and he pretty much got the impression that the only way to have that sort of intimacy was to be in a relationship, and he didn't want that.
He didn't know what he had with Spock.
They'd come together in a powerful, explosive force that blew both of their minds, and this time, it wasn't just some nameless person in a nameless dorm that he would only ever see in passing ever again. This was his second-in-command, his closest friend, and when Nyota Uhura had broken up with him (a messy, overdramatic, and really kind of stupid affair altogether. Kirk was glad he didn't do relationships) and left Spock with empty evenings with nothing to do, he came to spend time with the Captain.
Kirk had a sneaking suspicion that Spock had the same need for companionship that he did.
So they didn't talk about it, but the more time they spent together, the closer they got. Every now and then, their nights would end in sex, but not always, and more often than not they sprawled over the too-large Captain's bed and spread their paperwork out together, and Spock would comment that it was illogical to sign documents on a pliant surface, and Kirk told him he could shove his logic where the sun don't shine. This was, regrettably, the wrong choice of words and had sparked a half-hour debate about the logic of using antiquated sayings in the depths of space.
Slowly, Spock was becoming accustomed to a state of constant contact. Kirk had never been happier.
It was a rare night that they didn't have work to do, and they'd gotten into a discussion about molecular biology, which somehow morphed into talking about music. Kirk liked music, in an average sort of way, and he could play a few chords on the guitar, but it wasn't something he'd ever thought seriously about. He was surprised - maybe even shocked - to learn that Spock had trained in several instruments on Vulcan, and had achieved quite a high proficiency in two of them. It was his favorite hobby. Kirk was instantly fascinated, and he rolled over on his stomach and propped up on his elbows so he could look his First Officer in the eyes as they talked.
"So... do you have any of them with you?" They hadn't been allowed too many personal possessions, not that Kirk would know since he barely had anything himself. Spock had been granted more leeway in this, in reaction to the destruction of his home planet.
Spock lifted an eyebrow, that expression that could mean anything, but Kirk took this particular eyebrow-raise to mean a surprise at Kirk's interest. "...Yes, I do have a ka'athyra with me. I must confess, I had not expected you to be so curious."
"Yeah, well, I like keeping you on your toes." He smiled. "Well, go get it! I want to hear you play."
Spock shifted off the bed with a long-suffering sigh, but Kirk could see the hint of a smile playing about his lips as he straightened his shirt and left the room. He was back within minutes, a curious-looking instrument propped under one arm. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, arranged it so one curly end was over his shoulder, took a deep breath in and out, and started playing.
It was light and floating and delicate, and Kirk's jaw fell open in shock. Fuck 'high proficiency', Spock was amazing, and Kirk was pretty sure that if he didn't love him so much as a First Officer he'd kick him off his Starship and make him play professionally.
He stretched out to touch him; the way he moved, his fingers dancing over the strings, set off a chain reaction of sparks that Kirk was finding difficult to ignore. He touched the side of his torso, drawing his fingers down past full-bone ribs and over cartilage.
And suddenly, notes twanged. If he didn't know better, he'd've thought Spock jumped. Kirk stopped, cocking an eyebrow right back at him, his fingers paused at his side.
"Please desist," Spock murmured, but it didn't have any real power behind it, and he did the only thing he could do, really. He scooted up closer, spread his hand over that spot, and smirked.
"What, you ticklish or something?"
"No," Spock responded, far too quickly. The smirk grew.
Kirk twitched his fingers, and then, yes - Spock did jump, his skin nearly spasming under that light, teasing touch.
"Stop stop STOP," he ordered, giving Kirk one of his trademark fierce glares. It didn't help much. "I don't want to break this..."
"So put it aside and then let me touch you, yeah?" He made it sound like a come-on. It wasn't.
"Oh no, I'm not setting aside my only viable defense to your - " But Spock was cut off, as Kirk's fingers rolled in a scraping tickling motion, and he squeaked.
Kirk could have corpsed himself laughing, if he wasn't so focused on the thought of making him do it again. "Come on, surrender, you know you want to..."
"I do not!" Once again, Spock answered too quickly, and a little too breathless, and Kirk wondered if maybe he was enjoying it a little too much. "If you don't stop this at once, I'm going to leave, and - "
Kirk watched with widening eyes as Spock reacted to the latest onslaught. He squealed, and his eyes shot open, and he clapped a hand to stifle his sound.
"Stop- let me-"
The captain tugged the instrument away from him, his hand never leaving the Vulcan's side, and the very second it was safely away on his desk, he pounced.
Spock kept a hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his sounds, and Kirk let him, because what he couldn't release through vocalizations, he showed in the way he squirmed.
Left right, curled into a ball, but that didn't help so he stretched out again, near chased himself in a circle and now, he was giggling, the sound bubbling up and breaking free of his binding hand. "Jim, Jim, stop it, please..."
But his protests were weak, and he was smiling in a way that Kirk had never seen before, and when he'd finally had enough and pinned Spock's hands to his side and kissed him, he could feel something like joy in the way his lips moved.
They broke to breathe, and it had never been like this, silly and playful and sweet. Kirk had never fathomed this kind of connection, this kind of pure happiness in the simplest small things.
He didn't know what he had with Spock, but he loved every second of it.