I did not just write a real-person drabble.

I was reading about William Shatner (as one does at work), and came cross this gem from Playboy:

Playboy: Who is better in bed, Captain Kirk or T.J. Hooker?
Shatner: One is a giver and the other is a taker. So it works beautifully.

And I wrote this:

Kirk glanced appraisingly at Shatner’s middle. “Haven’t been keeping yourself up, have you?” He looked up with a heavy-lidded expression that Shatner had perfected with hours before his bathroom mirror. He suspected it came to the captain naturally. “You’re still very pretty.” He leaned forward, standing far too close for comfort.

Shatner stared at him. “But I’m… not… gay!” he said.

“Well I am, if you want to be 20th century about it,” said Kirk, using a smile Shatner thought he’d patented—Nimoy called it his “smirk of unassailable ego”—“and you have to admit you think you’re gorgeous.” He stood back as if to let his double admire his Starfleet-approved physique. Shatner could only wish he looked like that. And he had to admit—he looked really good.

“Well you… aren’t so bad yourself,” he begrudged.

Kirk pouted. “True enough. Though I’ve never understood why you make me talk like I can’t get through a sentence without stopping to think.”