Jim used his bare big toe to poke Bones under the table where they sat eating breakfast. Well, if a huge plate of cinnamon rolls counted as breakfast. To Jim, it totally did. Jim still wore his pajama bottoms and a tank top, though Bones was fully dressed.
“Do you know what day it is?”
Bones scowled over the rim of his coffee. “April 29th.”
“Well, yeah, obviously. And a Saturday, too. Before you add that.”
Bones smirked and popped gooey cinnamon roll bits into his mouth. “These are wicked good. Where’d you get them?”
“They’re home made.”
“There’s no way you made these. You cook with two feet.”
Jim rolled his eyes. “Do not. And no, I didn’t. They were made for my anniversary.” He grinned.
“Anniversary? Of what?”
“The day Pike talked me into enlisting in Starfleet, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Bones said, sarcastically. “Why didn’t I mark that on the calendar?”
There was a knock on their door. Jim wiped his mouth on a napkin, rose and opened the door.
“Good morning.” Jim leaned in for a quick kiss.
“Good morning,” was the murmured response.
Jim returned to the table.
“Doctor. Are you enjoying the cinnamon rolls I made for Jim?”
Bones choked and stared at Spock with wide eyes. “You made them?”
“Of course Spock did! You didn’t make me anything.”
“Spare me.” Bones sighed. “But okay, yes, Spock, you made fantastic tasting cinnamon rolls.”
“Thank you, doctor. And they are from a vegan recipe.”
“Well, then, doubly impressive.” Bones got up from the table. “I should get to class.”
Jim looked at him quizzically. “It’s Saturday, there’s no class.”
“Still going,” Bones called, as he grabbed a coat and went out the door.
Jim snorted. “Sorry about that.”
“It is fine. In fact, I have the perfect solution for the doctor being uncomfortable.”
“Oh yeah? What?” Jim picked up a cinnamon roll and offered a bite to Spock, who took it.
“Move in with me,” Spock answered, after chewing and swallowing.
“Oh, that is perfect. I say yes.” He kissed Spock again and then made a yummy noise. “Mmm. Frosting.”