Spock had not felt this emotionally compromised in years. He felt almost dizzy and a little bit woozy.
“Spock? Are you okay?”
Nyota had come upon him, put her arm around him as he leaned against the bulkhead.
“I…yes.”
“What is it?” She frowned. “Wait. I thought you were going to tell the captain how you felt tonight.”
“Yes.”
She put her hand to her face. “Oh no. It-it didn’t go well? I was so sure that he felt the same. Spock—”
Spock shook his head. “No. It went…perfectly. He reciprocates.”
“So…what do you think?”
He was anxious. Heart pounding. Palms sweaty.
“About what?”
Slowly he let out a breath, long and shaky.
“What-what I told you.”
And now he was regretting everything. It had been a mistake to share this. Why had he done that? No good ever came from sharing his feelings.
“Jim.”
He realized he was looking at the ground, dejected and ashamed.
“Jim.”
He lifted his gaze and stared into dark eyes that were surprisingly warm.
Spock lifted his hand to Jim’s, touching their palms together.
“I think…it is about time.”
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 