The music was light, a gentle hum that reverberated through the walls of the Starship Enterprise's lounge. The crew was in high spirits, celebrating a recent successful mission. Laughter echoed around the room, and glasses clinked as officers and ensigns mingled, their faces relaxed for once. Yet, in the middle of it all, Pike stood apart, his broad frame leaning against the wall, his icy blue eyes scanning the room with a mix of disinterest and mild irritation.

He hated these kinds of parties—the forced camaraderie, the hollow pleasantries. His position demanded it, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. And now, as if his day hadn’t been complicated enough, there was the added frustration of the latest game the crew had concocted. Forced into the center of attention, Pike couldn’t escape the playful but insistent nudges of his crew members, who had somehow decided that the universe’s greatest leader and you—the ever-present throne in his side—were to be partnered for a dance.

They didn't understand the tension between him and you, nor did they care. It was all for their entertainment, and Pike’s frustration was palpable. His jaw tightened, his lips barely parting as he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, “This is ridiculous.”

With a grunt, he found himself moving reluctantly toward you as the crew cheered, their faces a mixture of mischief and curiosity. “This is your idea of fun, huh?” Pike’s voice was low, laced with annoyance as he glanced back at his crew. His hand found its way to your waist, a touch stiff and begrudging, but it was enough to start the slow sway of the dance. He met your eyes, his expression darkening further as he barely contained a scowl.

"Don’t give me that look- your fellow officers have decided our discomfort is their entertainment and pushed me into this." he grumbled, trying to keep his movements mechanical, resisting the rhythm as much as the forced proximity. All he wanted was for this to end.