Title: The Silk We Seek
Fandom: Star Trek: the Original Series
Rating: G
Length: words
Summary: Jim gifts Spock a silk shirt. While Spock likes it, but their conversation unsettles him.
Author's note: gen prompt bingo: Sensual Pleasures

“You have returned early,” Spock said as Jim entered his quarters. While Spock would hope Jim to fully relax in his shore leave, he was pleased that Jim seeked his company.

“It is less fun without you,” Jim replied. “I bought something for you.”

Spock raised an eyebrow as Jim gave him a wrapped up gift. “I am not aware of any special occasion that requires gift giving.”

“Who needs special occasions to do something nice for his friends?” Jim smiled.

Spock felt warm as he carefully unwrap the gift paper. Inside there was a dark shirt weaved with gold threads, soft and luxurious to his touch.

Jim asked, “Do you like it?”

“You do not need to,” Spock said. The Andorian silk shirt must worth a fortune. Jim had an illogical habit to gift him things way beyond what was practical.

Patting Spock’s hand, Jim said, “Just try it. Let’s see if it fit.”

“Excuse me,” Judging that the shirt was a tight fit, Spock removed his uniform shirt to put it on.

Jim widened his eyes and turned his back. “Tell me if you are ready.”

Spock almost smiled because of Jim’s modesty as Jim was never shy with his own body. “I am as ready as I am.”

It was a very good shirt, Spock noted. The shirt was airy and lightweight, fitting himself so well as it were another layer of skin.

Jim stared at him. “I know it will look good on you. What do you think about it?”

“It is of very good quality,” Spock answered. “But its price must be extravagant.”

Jim interrupted him with a grin. “Why, Mr. Spock, don't you think you deserve luxury in life? I don't expect I will live long enough to worry about my retirement, so what are a few credits for my friend?”

Spock felt cold at Jim’s mention of his possible death. “You should be more cautious about your safety.”

“I am sorry for my words.” Jim grabbed his shoulders. “Don't worry. I’m not planning to die soon. Stop fussing over me like a mother hen like Bones.”

Spock replied. “I see no similarities between me and a domestic fowl, but for the doctor... ” He would rather change the topic than thinking of Jim’s mortality.

“Don't let Bones hear you, or our good doctor won't let us hear the end of it.” Jim advised. “A round of chess?”

“Sure.”

When the chess game began, Spock enjoyed the challenge of duelling wit with Jim and their easy warm conversation, but Jim’s words stirred his thought.

Just as the silk shirt a sign of Jim’s regard for him, its fragility a motif for their precarious life. Spock would take care of his gift as well as possible, just as he would for Jim.