Christmas in July, July 08, 2022 Flash

I got a suggestion to use the Jim and Spock from First Impressions.

Jim stood in front the mirror trying to decide if he liked the way he looked.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm?”

Jim glanced at Spock via the mirror. His husband was sitting at a terminal in their quarters doing God knew what. Reports probably.

Jim smiled faintly, his memory going back several years now.

“Green or red?”

Spock turned around from preparing tea in the kitchen of their apartment. He blinked several times at Jim.

Well, Jim really couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day your boyfriend was dressed like a Christmas elf.

“I beg your pardon?”

Jim smiled. “You can beg me later.”

“Jim—”

“I know, I know. It’s July, right?”

“It is. You also have green knee trousers on with a red…I confess I am at a loss as to what you are wearing on your upper torso is called.”

“Doublet, I think. Like what royalty would wear in ancient Earth days or whatever. That’s what it reminds me of. But anyway, it’s for the elf costume. That’s why I am wondering. Green elf or red elf?”

“You are as inexplicable as ever.”

Jim laughed. “Now that’s a compliment I can get behind.”

“It is not…Jim, why are you wearing that?”

“The hospital is doing Christmas in July for the sick kids. I promised to dress up like an elf.” Jim shrugged. “It’s fun for them.”

“And you too, I would say.” Spock considered. “I would say green.”

“I do look good with green all over and in me.” Jim grinned.

Spock gave him a stern look. “Red. Go as a red elf.”

“How does this stupid uniform look?” Jim asked, in the present. He wrinkled his nose.

“Being promoted to admiral is not stupid.”

“Come on. First impression.”

That got Spock’s attention and he looked up at once.

“You are…as always…breathtaking.”

Jim snorted. “You didn’t always think so.”

Spock got up from behind the desk and went to where Jim stood, pulling him into his arms.

“That is where you are wrong, T’hy’la. From the very beginning I have acknowledged how absolutely stunning you are.”

“You just thought I was a shit.”

“I never thought that. Such a term is not in my vocabulary.”

“Well. You think it looks all right?”

“You look like a highly regarded, decorated officer who has earned his promotion to admiral.”

“Right, sure.” Jim sighed. “Why do I feel like a fake then?”

“You are not. And I am…in awe of the man you are.”

“You’re going to make me cry.” Jim kissed him.

Spock looked up at Jim’s fingers raised above them. “Mistletoe, Admiral?”

“Merry Christmas in July, honey.”

Spock shook his head but drew Jim back into another kiss. “Let us see what you look like out of this uniform.”

“Now you’re talking!”