Um... hi! Call me Tigger, or Tiggs, if you prefer. This here is mah first Star Trek story, in honor of the trailer for the new 2013 movie. Seeing said trailer made me curious enough to actually watch the 2009 movie... which then made me watch the TOS episodes and all of the TOS movies.

Oh, my stars.

Needless to say, it has led me down the righteous path of K/S (canon!) romance, and so this story is a result. I wrote it while having a rather slow day at work.

Please enjoy, lovely readers.

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is NOT mine and I do not write for any profit. I merely write because it's fun and I enjoy it very much. That is all.

:Dance the Night Away:

"Captain?" Though the low, measured baritone voice was familiar and spoke softly, it still managed to startle the man it was addressing. Quickly plastering a small smile to his face, Jim turned halfway from the high table and looked at his First Officer.

"Spock," Jim started, his smile turning sincere and warming up with partially stifled affection. The Captain managed to catch the way Spock's dark eyes darted to his lips for a second- possibly to gauge the reason he was smiling –before looking back up into his gaze. While the Vulcan's expression was as calm and inscrutable as a stone, his eyebrow lifted in his curiosity.

"What are you doing here?" Jim finished, moving his hands off of the table and folding them in his lap instead, as he continued to watch his First Officer.

At Jim's question, Spock's posture became more rigid, and he clasped his hands together behind his back. Jim regarded the Vulcan's face, and tried to hold back another smile at the look in Spock's eyes; because while his expression did not so much as change enough to be noticeable, his eyes almost always spoke volumes.

And now they conveyed that Jim had just asked a question that was dumb enough for Spock to seriously question his Captain's IQ.

"I am- as you are well aware of, Captain –here to attend the formal dinner party. Which- as you also are aware of –is required in attendance by the entire senior officer crew of the Enterprise." Spock replied, and the way he ended it made it abundantly clear that the silent 'duh' was to be included. Spock continued to stare at Jim silently, and after a moment, Jim could somehow sense Spock's formality shifting, becoming less First Officer and more of simply… Spock.

There was no outward show of it, really.

Spock's shoulders did not sag, nor did the ever proper Vulcan sigh or make a weary gesture; it was more evident in the way the corners of his mouth relaxed. And it was also apparent is his eyes that managed to become- somehow – (Jim isn't quite sure yet, but he's working on a theory) a few shades lighter until the edges were nothing more than a light, amber brown.

Jim had come to learn these tell-tale signs over the time he spent with Spock, and he always welcomed them readily. Spock moved closer to the table, coming to stand on Jim's left side. Though their arms or shoulders did not touch, Spock was close enough that Jim could feel the faint heat creeping off of his companion and wafting over his skin. Having taken off the dark overcoat to his dress formal earlier and rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to bunch at his elbows, the heat was pleasant on his skin.

"The question however," Spock decided to continue after a moment, and Jim had to tilt his head up to see the Vulcan's face due to his lowered position in the stool chair. "May be appropriately asked again for you. If I recall correctly, we all were attending the main event in the reception hall. That was two point one hours ago. The festivities are still entirely in effect, and yet you have gone out of your way to find one of the most secluded lounging areas, away from the rest of the attendees. If I may repeat after you, Captain- what are you doing here?"

Jim tore his eyes away from Spock's face and ducked his head down. He ran his fingers through his already frazzled looking hair and chuckled sheepishly. Peering back up though long golden lashes, Jim's grin turned somewhat teasing. Spock's nostrils flared for only a second, and when he saw Jim stare up at him- almost coyly – the Vulcan found his mouth suddenly dry.

Slightly unsettled at his response to the Captain's actions, he dutifully swallowed twice to get rid of the uncomfortable dryness. Mentally reprimanding himself for his lack of control, Spock forced himself pay attention to his Captain, who was starting to say something.

"I'm enjoying the solitude, Spock," Jim said with a shrug of only one shoulder. His smile was still teasing, and Spock was left to wonder if he was missing something. "Something I knew I could get if I crashed one of these lounges,"

Jim's face turned thoughtful for a minute, before assuming a vaguely serious expression. He looked to Spock, and his brow furrowed.

"You obviously came to find me," he observed. "Well- either that or you were looking for some quiet too. But then," Jim's seriousness faded to a thoughtful one. "You wouldn't be trying to join my company if you wanted to be alone, would ya?"

Spock did not say anything, and Jim rested his back against the table's edge. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Spock could only discern that the Captain's facial expression was now a cross between smug and pleased.

"As irresistible as we both know I am," Jim continued, and both he and Spock let the figurative eye roll between them go unacknowledged. "I don't think you'd want me if you're looking to be alone. So that means you are looking for me. Or… er, were, I mean."

"As always," Spock said dryly. "Your astute observations have managed to impress me, Captain."

Jim laughed heartily, and then gave Spock a conspiratorial wink. He didn't catch the soft hitch in Spock's breathing at his gesture and continued on, completely oblivious.

"I aim to please," he joked. He straightened up in the stool and opened his hands; palms up in the universal gesture of "so, what?" "Why were you looking for me? Did one of the higher ups with the big paychecks ask for you to hunt me down and drag me back to the main show?"

"Negative," Spock informed him, and Jim relaxed slightly in a mixture of relief and reassurance. He arched his eyebrow at his First Officer.

"That's good then," Jim muttered, scrubbing his face with the palm of his hand. Spock's brow wrinkled just a bit at Jim's words, and he took a step closer. Though Jim knew the way they were positioned was simply by pure happenstance, the way Spock seemed to tower over him was a bit intimidating.

And put together with that intense stare only Spock seemed to pull off…

Feeling the usual heat beginning to curl in the pit of his stomach at his First Officer's close proximity, Jim hastily squashed it down.

Not the place or time, Jim tried to remind himself firmly.

It had taken a hell of a lot for him to reach this comfortable level of companionship with Spock- enough that Jim could confidentially call the Vulcan his friend. The last thing he wanted was for his stubborn, insistent feelings for Spock to crop up and ruin what they had.

Besides, he had some practice at ignoring said feelings for awhile now- Spock would probably be proud if he knew.

If he didn't punch the daylights out of me first, Jim mused, just a bit bitterly. His somewhat chaotic thoughts were scattered when Spock began speaking.

"I am curious regarding your earlier statement, Captain." Spock stated.

"Jim," Jim insisted. Spock's mouth closed for a moment, and he blinked slowly.

"I beg your pardon?" he questioned and Jim gave him an indulgent smile.

"My name," he said. He jerked his thumb at his face. "Is Jim. You're welcome to use it, ya know. It's not like we're aboard the Enterprise or on duty." He held up his hand in a mockery of upholding a vow. "I promise it won't hurt me for you to call me by my name."

Spock inclined his head, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Very well, Jim," he said, and said Captain hid a smirk because it sounded as if Spock was exasperated and trying to humor him. Jim waved his hand in a motion for Spock to continue what he'd been saying.

"If you would clarify your earlier statement, please. You said, 'I'm enjoying the solitude.' I was under the impression you were enjoying the party after we arrived, and your previous comment seems to imply otherwise." That little frown between Spock's eyebrows was back. "What has changed since then?"

Again, Jim gave Spock a one-shouldered shrug.

He turned his body halfway in the chair to face the table again, folding his arms on top of it.

"The party's fine…" Jim assured. "As is the food and music. But… well…"

Spock watched as the Human Captain coughed lightly into his fist, and the tips of his ears turned a hot pink.

The Captain was… embarrassed. Most curious.

"I was enjoying myself just fine…" Jim's small, fleeting grin turned slightly self-deprecating. "But then the dancing started, and suddenly everyone just had to dance with Captain Kirk."

One of Spock's eyebrows lifted.

"You… do not like dancing?"

Jim snorted softly.

"More like… um… don't really know how." The last part of the sentence was difficult to understand because Jim had turned to mumbling.

There was an awkward silence, in which Spock stared at Jim, and Jim stared back.

"I do not understand," Spock declared finally, his head tilting slightly in question. "Surely you had enough training and opportunity during your time at Starfleet to learn-"

Jim was already shaking his head before Spock could even finish.

Mortification did not even begin to cover it.

"I made sure to be conveniently absent during those mandatory formals," Jim confided. "Of all of my flaws- even if they are all incredibly endearing –my lack of rhythm is one of my worst. I'm actually worried a bit that if I did dance with someone, I'd end up seriously hurting them instead and then I'd have charges of assault and battery placed against me."

Jim had ducked his head a little further down as he explained, but it did not hide the blush on his cheeks from Spock's gaze.

"Illogical," Spock said with a tone of finality. Jim looked up quickly, eyebrows deepening into a confused frown.

"I'm sorry?" he hedged, somewhat confused.

"It is illogical to hide away from a daunting situation that can be remedied quite easily," Spock elaborated.

Jim snorted.

"Yeah?" he allowed. "How do you figure that, Mister Spock?"

Spock stared at him as if the answer was painfully obvious.

"I will assist you in a dance," he intoned calmly. "To borrow a Human phrase; 'practice makes perfect'."

The effects of his words were so immediate for Jim, a part of him was actually embarrassed. The Captain's heart rate picked up, his palms became clammy, and something warm and fluttery filled his chest at the thought of dancing with his First Officer.

Dancing- which included touching and close bodily contact.

Did he also mention it meant touching?

Jim eyed Spock's regal form, clothed in a dark two piece suit that only highlighted his alien- exotic –features, and the heat in his belly returned with a vengeance. Terrified he would do something that would damn him- like, oh maybe just end up jumping Spock's bones -Jim tried to stall.

"That's okay, Spock," Jim tried, with a smile that wasn't entirely too convincing. "I don't want to injure you- I kinda like having you around in one piece."

Not to be deterred now that he had a logical solution, Spock did not rise to his Captain's diverting tactics.

"Negative, Jim," Spock replied, and there was just hint of something in the Vulcan's voice that seemed to imply Jim didn't really have a choice. His First Officer took a step away from the table and swept his hand in a gesture that let Jim know he should get up from the chair. "I insist."

Sometimes I really wonder which of us is actually the superior officer, Jim thought with a private chuckle. Feeling excited- yet apprehensive –Jim slid off the stool and moved to the open area of the lounge room.

The way most of the outer lounges were set up allowed for both privacy and convenient comfort. There was a mini-bar wrapped around the wall furthest from the entrance, with a few booths aligning the other two walls of the rectangular room. A few high tables filled the middle of the room, one of which Jim had been occupying; and while most of the floor was carpeted, there was a section of hard floor by the left wall of the room.

Perfect for anyone who wanted to do a little dancing in private, or just away from a crowd. As Jim moved to the dance floor, he turned around to look at Spock and continued to walk- only backwards.

"I hope you know what you're getting into, Spock," he said. "When I'm trying to dance… things might get a little crazy."

And broken, a small voice added in the back of Jim's mind. The Captain ignored it with practiced ease.

Spock moved to join him, his gait as smooth and sensual as a cat's. His eyes darkened slightly, and Jim swallowed.

"I am quite certain I can handle anything you have to give, Jim." Spock said simply, his voice low and… just…

Jim blinked. Well.

Why did Spock have to sound- actually, no; just be – like temptation wrapped up in forbidden delight?

Feeling his palms turning clammy again, Jim licked his lips and turned around so his back was to Spock. Easier to… you know; think that way.

Control yourself, Jim reminded sharply. He's just trying to help- don't make it out to be something it's not.

Even if he really wanted it to be.

Once Captain and First Officer stood on the dance floor, the remained motionless, staring at each other.

"Uh… how about some music?" Jim blurted. His eyes darted towards the entrance where the systems of wall comms lined the edge.

"Music would be welcome," Spock agreed, and Jim clapped his hands.

"Wonderful! I'll just go and…" Jim jogged over to the wall and flicked the comm switch on the panel closest to the door. There was a soft beep, before slow, orchestral music began filling the lounge. All of the outer rooms had comms that linked to the main reception area, so the live orchestra that was playing for the evening sounded as clear as if Spock and Jim were present in the reception themselves.

"I can dig this," Jim joked as he walked back to the Vulcan.

Anything to distract his thoughts from other avenues; but it wasn't working too well. Because once he was back on the dance floor and Spock was moving to him with clear intent in his eyes, Jim's heart tried to take a heroic leap up into his esophagus.

He cleared his throat.

"So… what do I – er, are you gonna lead, then?" Jim floundered, his thoughts all but scattering when Spock stopped mere inches in front of him. For a person who was all about keeping proper personal space at all times, Spock certainly did not have any qualms about invading Jim's.

"Indeed, it would be the most logical course of action." Spock said.

And just hearing Spock's response; so normal for him, Jim was suddenly relieved. Because no matter how flustered he was, in the end, it was just Spock. His First Officer. His friend.

His very handsome, beautiful, out-of-bounds and amazingly hot-

Okay, Jim. Not doing yourself any favors, here.

There was a pause in the music, an end to one song and before the start of a new one. The sound of thunderous applause spilled from the lounge's surround speakers for a moment, before the lilting, haunting melody of another music piece began.

"For this dance, it will be easier to maneuver and coordinate our steps if you place both of your hands on my shoulders," Spock instructed... and wow.

Was it being so up close and personal that allowed for Jim to almost feel the rumble of Spock's voice through the rapidly diminishing space between them?

Jim peered at Spock closely, his facial expression somewhat dubious.

"You sure you want me to put my hands on you?" he asked. The words hung in the air for a second before Jim realize how they sounded, and could be misconstrued. He hastily added, "I mean, you know- because of your telepathy and everything?"

"I am quite sure," Spock said, waiting for Jim to decide to follow directions. For once.

"Fine by me," Jim said and raised his hands. And it was a weird (though not unpleasant by any means) experience to just… touch his First Officer. It was always so forbidden and one of those things you just didn't do, that to be able to do it freely now…

Even through the layers of clothing, Jim could feel the heat radiating off of Spock's skin. He flexed his fingers a bit and tried to relax his posture. He wasn't, however, relaxed enough to not jump when Spock's hands were suddenly gripping the sides of his waist. An electric thrill shot up Jim's spine and he shivered.

"Are you cold?" Spock inquired, a bit confused. After all; the lounge was quite warm.

"Nah- I'm good," Jim reassured him, and gave him a half smile. He then licked his lips, and Spock's eyes darkened further.

"Very well," Spock intoned, and gently started to pull Jim into a slow, easy pace. It seemed like a box step more than anything, but was on tempo. After a few minutes, Jim surmised that they were doing a very basic waltz.

It was extremely calming, intimate and… nice.

He could get used to this.

"So, anyway…" Jim spoke up, mentally giving Spock his props because with his guidance Jim had only lost rythym and stepped on Spock's feet twice.

For Jim, that was a miracle.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Jim asked, intrigued. Part of him really wanted to know; the other half needed to be distracted. Being this close to his First Officer was wreaking havoc on his control and he was only Human, after all.

"On my homeworld," Spock told him, and Jim's eyes widened.

"Ooh- so Vulcan's do know how to boogie!" He laughed. "I knew it!"

Instead of answering him, Spock remained silent. But Jim felt triumphant all the same because of the way Spock's mouth curled up slightly at the side. It was not a smile by a Human's standard- but by a Vulcan's it was probably close to a goofy grin.

The warm, fluttering feeling was back at the sight of that smile and Jim found he was ridiculously happy.

"Well, your homeworld did a fine job, Spock," Jim said softly, and the air suddenly felt a bit thicker. Heavier and warmer, too. He tried to ignore it and continued. "Thank you for dancing with me- I'd be hard pressed to have agreed with anyone else's offer."

Spock's eyes turned knowing, and it gave Jim a thrill to see Spock regarding him with that look.

"Not at all, Jim," Spock said gracefully with an incline of his head. His grip on Jim's waist tightened minutely, almost as if in reflex. "Dancing can be quite pleasurable… with the right partner."

Jim's heart stuttered at the way Spock's voice lowered on the word pleasurable and it was probably Jim's runaway mind that seemed to misconstrue Spock's "dancing" with something more… carnal.

"We should do this again sometime, then," Jim said.

Spock's gaze positively smoldered and Jim just barely kept himself from shivering again.

"I find that to be a most logical decision, Jim."

Jim preened.

The dancing continued, and after another slow song started up, Jim noticed something.

"Your hands are really, really warm," he observed, sounding absent-minded as Spock started to move them in a semi-circle. And it was true- the warmth at the sides of his waist was pleasant and deep enough that it felt like a low, pleasant burn even through his dress shirt, but not quite. And it didn't hurt at all. Jim had his eyes lowered and focused on his feet as he made the observation, thereby missing the fleeting look in Spock's eyes his words caused.

A deep yearning look.

"Does that bother you, Jim?" Spock asked softly, and something about it made Jim glance up sharply, his golden brow furrowing over his eyes. If he didn't know any better, Spock's voice sounded faintly… regretful? Disappointed, maybe.

Either way, Jim had no intention of letting it stay there.

"Of course not, Spock," Jim assured his dance partner, giving a wide smile in his arsenal against Spock's doubts. " I think your hands are very… er…" For just a moment, Jim's voice gave out in an unexpected bout of uncertainty and self-consciousness.

Why am I behaving like a schoolgirl? Jim thought, his cheeks turning pink nonetheless. He shook his head. It's not incriminating evidence to like his hands. I don't think…

"I think the warmth is nice. And I like your hands very much, I'll have you know. They're sexy," And while Jim had fully intended the words to come out playful and teasing, they emerged more heavy and serious sounding than anything else.

Jim's blatant confusion at his unintentional confession was put on hold because he was taken over by disbelief when Spock literally stumbled at his words.

Of course, this being Spock, all the stumbling entailed was a slight step off-tempo, and Spock's hands on Jim's waist tightening further for him to regain balance. Within seconds, the Vulcan had up righted himself and was almost seamlessly back in step with the song's rhythm, but Jim was still rather mystified.

He stared at Spock closely enough to make out the faintest tint of green accenting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Jim knew if he hadn't been paying such close attention, he would have missed the nearly imperceptible blush from the room's low lighting.

"Spock," he started to ask hesitantly, but much too curious not to.

Spock didn't do stumbling, or blushing. He just didn't, okay?

"You alright?"

Spock took that moment to pull Jim's hands off of his shoulders and twirl him around, moving in close so his front was nearly brushed up against the length of Jim's back. Probably so Jim couldn't read his face anymore.

Sneaky Vulcan.

"I… am well, Jim." Spock droned, but this time Jim did not miss the hitch in his First Officer's voice. "Your words merely… surprised me."

Spock's warm breath ghosted down the back of Jim's neck, slipping into the collar of his shirt. Jim managed to stop the shiver halfway of his spine, but he couldn't stop the way his hair stood on end and his skin prickling from the faint sensation.

Maybe deciding to dance with Spock was not one of Jim's best ideas yet.

"My comment got to you, huh?" Jim wondered aloud, curious. "Was it 'cause of your hands?"

Even though Spock had changed their positions, his hands were still heavy on the sides of Jim's waist. Part of Jim's awareness was so in-tuned on those pair of hands, that he knew he wasn't imagining the faint tremor that ran through them after he asked the question. A small, mischievous grin twisted Jim's lips. Feeling extremely bold and daring (hello- he was James T Kirk), Jim brought his hands up and ever so gently placed his hands over Spock's.

Part of his brain screamed for him to stop, but he'd already jumped in, so there was no point in pulling out now.

Spock's mouth was pretty much right behind Jim's ear so the Captain heard both the Vulcan's sharp intake of breath, and the heavy swallow that quickly followed. It was Spock's reaction to his touch that made Jim's mind start to reel with suspicion and… hope.

"Aren't Vulcan hands like… really sensitive? Jim asked, trying to feigning innocence and failing miserably by a mile. He emphasized his question by scratching his fingernails gently across the back of Spock's hands, before smoothing small circles across the joints of Spock's knuckles with his fingertips.

He was preparing himself for either Spock to insist he stop or- heck; toss him away from him in a fit of discomfort. What he truly wasn't prepared for was the way Spock's head fell forward heavily onto his shoulder, or how Spock's grip on his waist became impossibly tight.

Tight enough to bruise.

Jim opened his mouth to say… something, but his efforts produced nothing more than a pathetic squeak.

Because Spock chose that precise moment to turn his face into the side of Jim's neck where it dipped to his collar bone, the tip of his nose pressing against warm, soft skin. And he growled.

Spock. Growled.

A low, feral growl that was all heat and something incredibly delicious.

Jim's brain cut offline as all of his blood made a mad dash southward bound.

"Vulcan hands are extremely sensitive, Jim," Spock purred softly, his voice coming out wrecked. They were now pressed so close together that Jim could feel the vibrations of Spock's chest against this back. "I am sure you already know this."

"Oh?" Jim's attempt at nonchalance came out sounding breathless instead. With all of his blood pooling to the area between his legs, his head was feeling light, and his thoughts were a bit hazy.

"So if I did this-?"

Jim slid his fingers in between Spock's, moving the hands until they were resting on his stomach instead of his waist, and squeezed.

Hard.

A hard grunt was torn out of Jim's throat when Spock seemed to spasm involuntarily and all but jerked his hips into Jim's lower back. Through the skin-on-skin contact between their hands, a flash of heat and want so strong it made Jim delirious, crawled up Jim's arms enveloping his senses and leaving him- literally –panting.

When the sensation began to fade, Jim desperately tried to get it back by squeezing Spock's hand again. When Spock pulled his hands free of Jim's to move them lower and grip his hips to keep them from moving- and then proceeded to grind his arousal into the swell of Jim's buttocks brutally without reservation - the Human Captain swore he saw stars.

His own arousal came back so fast it was almost painful, and a low whimper tore from his throat before he could stop it.

He swirled around, tearing Spock's hands off of him in the process, so that he was facing Spock. His heart stuttered pitifully at the way Spock's pupils looked completely blown.

"I take it you like when I do that?" Jim panted, his breath merging with Spock's own in the small space between their mouths. He didn't protest when Spock's hands were at his waist again and was pulling him closer. His chest ran along Spock's, and when their mutual arousal brushed up against the other's- even through their clothing -Jim's brain threatened to short circuit.

Again.

Miraculously, throughout all of it, both he and Spock had managed to keep moving along with the music. Even if they were slow, jerky steps.

"Very much so," Spock purred, his eyes fixated on Jim's lips.

"In that case, I think we should make it a priority to practice some more dancing later… in my quarters," Jim hinted.

A hint of something playful emerged in Spock's gaze.

"Is that an order, Captain?" he asked, sounding completely innocent.

Jim snorted.

"Absolutely, Mister Spock," Jim replied, grinning up at his First Officer unabashedly.

The sight halted Spock's thought processes, and Jim's smile slowly began to turn into a slight frown.

"Spock?" he started. "Are you-?"

Jim could not finish because his lips were suddenly covered beneath Spock's own. Immediately, as if a switch had been turned, Jim's entire body became boneless and he fell heavily against Spock until he was practically draped over him.

The corner of Jim's mouth quirked up, and then wavered as Spock continued to kiss him within an inch of his life.

Deciding to dance with Spock was definitely one Jim's best decisions yet.

END.

NOTE: I don't have a beta reader, so please forgive any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors that you (most assuredly) might find. I completely claim ownership of them, even if I don't necessarily want to.

*sigh*

EDIT: I just updated this little fic to cure the bad spelling and grammatical errors. I guess taking time away from reading this, and then coming back to it, gave me fresh enough eyes to fix it up properly. *cheese*