9 Things Couples Do - Jim Kirk
Summary: People do funny, stupid, cute, and sad things when they’re in love.
Warnings: language, a bit fluffy
A/N: everyone, i love jim kirk. i hope this is as good as it was in my head and better than i actually think its mediocre ass turned out (i am sick, though, so who knows). it’s such a long fic, y’all.
Jim assumed your favorite ice cream flavor was strawberry and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Especially not when he was looking at you in the way he was.
Impacted by the width and intensity of his smile, his eyes were narrowed and illuminated. He looked softer that way— less authoritative, less like the Captain Kirk the crew served under— he looked like the Jim you’d fallen for.
When the girl behind the counter looked at you with an eyebrow raised in question, you gave her a half-shrug you made sure was hidden from Jim. “Just one scoop, please.”
“One?” Jim asked, turning a little to look at you. He snorted and rolled the blue eyes that could have lit up the entire old-school San Francisco parlor. “Baby. And here I thought you had a gut of steel.”
“It’s not polite to comment on what metal you think makes-up the gut of your significant other.”
He snorted again, his fingertips shoving you with a force your weakened legs didn’t have the strength to withstand. He caught you before you could stumble a few inches to the right, immediately clasping his hand in yours. “Still tired from the…” he cleared his throat, “walk?”
The girl behind the counter giggled loud enough to force your teeth into your tongue, your cheeks and the tops of your ears burning instantly. You squeezed Jim’s hand so a wince left his lips and he snatched it back from yours. “I’m tired from the actual walk here. It’s uphill. And I do have a gut of steel— a roomy gut of steel, roomier than yours.”
Jim titled his head and took his gaze from yours to meet that of the girl busying herself with your strawberry ice cream and Jim’s chocolate with peanut butter swirled throughout. He smiled at her. “Did that sound like a challenge to you? Did you hear me being challenged by the person that is supposed to love me, to uplift me?”
“I do love you,” you mumbled before you looked at the girl and took the cone she offered you. “He’s dramatic— excuse him, please.”
You looked down at the already melting pink mess, then back up at Jim. You quirked a single eyebrow. “But let’s say I was challenging you— that I’m betting you my gut’s roomier than yours. What’s that entail?”
“Whoever finishes the most ice cream in twenty minutes.”
“That’s a long ass time, Jim. We just had dinner—”
“Ten minutes. No cones, just cups and spoons— cones take too long to finish.”
“The usual stakes or do you wanna modify them?”
“The usual stakes,” he said with a single nod. He was smirking so openly and cockily. It bugged you.
“We’ll tip you generously,” you told the girl who was now staring at the two of you with eyes the size and shape of saucers. “You just have to keep up, okay? Two servings ahead of us each time just to be safe. No stopping even when I look like my brain has frozen itself into a coma.”
Jim clapped his hands together. “This is what you trained for!”
“I-I haven’t really trained,” she said. She sounded nervous— a wise girl to be nervous, you thought.
You and Jim looked at one another, shrugged, and beckoned her to begin scooping.