Kirk stumbles into his quarters, exhausted and with a pounding headache, and all-but-falls into the nearest chair. A mug is set in front of him and he looks up to see Spock watching him with a sympathetic look.
"I trust the negotiations are going well?" he asks.
Kirk sighs, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. "They argued about the placement of a single comma for two hours."
"The Litis are a particularly detail oriented culture," Spock replies, showing his usual gift for understatement. He presses a kiss to Kirk's temple and adds, "Drink your tea and I shall give you a massage to help you relax."
Kirk's eyes slip closed as he leans against his partner, imagining Spock's hands on him, kneading out the stress. "Mmm," he says. "Marry me."
Spock's fingers still where they are combing through Kirk's hair, and Kirk looks up to see Spock staring at him with an odd expression. "What?"
"Did you mean that?"
Kirk is about to ask him what he means, when it dawns on him. Marry me. The words 'I was joking' hang in the air, but looking into Spock's eyes they suddenly feel like a lie.
"Yes," he says slowly. "I think I did."
Spock nods once, as if confirming a theory. "Then my answer is yes."
Kirk grins, pulling him down for a kiss. "You know," he says, "this day might be looking up."