Having

e moved, feeling the prickle of short, thick hairs against his cheek, and the incredible warmth of the soft skin beneath. So odd, to think of "snuggling" with Spock.

Hours now, he had been here, and still each breath surprised him. Each rise, the press of inhalation against him, attempted to prove that he was actually lying here in Spock's bed. His body, naked, pressed all along the longer, slightly darker, disciplined, restrained, equally naked body of his first officer and friend. Against the soft inside of his thigh, right above his bent knee, pressed the soft flesh he had been allowed to caress, which he wanted to spend forever caressing...

Was Spock going to turn Vulcan again? When those dark eyes opened, would he be ashamed? He had spoken of needing Jim to "keep" him, of Jim's being faithful, of wanting sex and more sex. But he had also explained brokenly about being bonded, and Pon Farr. Kirk had seen Spock pass through and out of madness before, returning seamlessly composed. Would he see that now? If he moved now, as he wanted to, to take Spock in his mouth, would the man come awake and protest? Or would he simply endure it, explaining later that he was no longer in need of such attentions? Would it be seven years before Spock needed him again?

Jim Kirk knew himself well enough to be certain he could not be happy in a relationship where he could only have sex that infrequently. He was a Human man, damnit, and had never pretended at being a monk. Spock knew that better than anyone.

Spock...what had it been like for him? Jim had been flirting with the Ajurdin Ambassador only a couple of months ago. And before that, there had been more than a few women in his life. Indeed, the number of them sometimes made him feel old and used up. He had loved, been loved, used and been used, wanted and been...left, or torn away. The number of lovers and would-be who had died had made him feel cursed. Lovely and fragile, they had been wounded by his hands even as he strained to provide only the softest caresses.

And did he not feel the wounds as well? And then there were the moments beyond pain: Edith. Rayna...

Rayna. In their link Kirk had seen the place where Spock had taken those memories, dulling his pain. Odd, only now was he thinking that perhaps he could have been irritated at Spock's invasion of his privacy. The thought, however, made him smother a laugh. The extraordinary love that sheltered him from that pain, which had sought only to release him from the guilt and self-hatred he'd suffered, could not be resented.

It almost frightened him. Spock could spit in his face and he couldn't get angry. But, then, he and Spock had forgiven each other so many things. It was so easy to be here.

Too easy. It felt so strange, beginning a new love affair that really did nothing more than build on an old one. The sexual passion was new, but the rest...so much that he had never managed to have with another. He had known for some time he would die for Spock, and now, to live and love for Spock, and for Spock to love him back...however infrequently.

But what could he do? Now that he had seen Spock writhing in passion, felt his hot skin slide against his own, seen his face as he came...oh, God, he was going to wake Spock up with nothing more than the stirring in his body if he didn't stop thinking about those exotic features shining with the force of his explosive climax. Spock in Love was as wild as Spock the Science Officer was calm. Jim wanted, quite simply, to love and serve with them both forever.

But...what? What if Spock didn't want him anymore? Having Spock even on a seven-year cycle was better than not at all. Besides, Spock would doubtlessly service him if he asked. The thought was depressing as hell, but doing without or being unfaithful was worse, at least, if Spock didn't mind too much, or, that is, he would need to enjoy it somewhat. Was that going to be impossible?

After all, they were bonded now. Surely that counted for something. Could his own desire seep into Spock somehow? Could the meld allow his passion to serve them both? He certainly had enough for two.

He had always had more.

Spock shifted, slightly, and Kirk held his breath, desperate for Spock to wake up, terrified at what might happen when he did. But the Vulcan did not awaken, and Jim rolled his head slightly, pressing his nose into the black hair, suddenly confronted by a pale nipple. His tongue pressed against his teeth, wanting out, wanting to stroke that soft nub and feel it harden. Only a few hours ago he had sucked hard on that very spot and felt Spock arch back and scream his name. Spock had wanted more, even though Jim had already been inside him, and spread his long, sinewy legs out and back, urging him with soft sounds, hard groans, lightly stroking fingertips...

Oh, dear. He had to think about something else, quickly. Think of Spock raising an eyebrow and requesting permission to return to business as usual. Think of Spock wanting to clean himself, not the sex-interrupted shower they'd had in the middle of the night, but one that might happen this morning, taken as though Jim's body were an unwelcome patch of dirt in which he'd been forced to wallow. Think of Spock...ohhhhh, Spock's hot and hard body as it had been last night, all that strength and intellect focused on bringing him pleasure, on being pleasured. Had he not heard Spock scream his name? Beg him to thrust harder? Describe how beautiful his body and mind were?

So strange, so intoxicating, to know that Spock found him beautiful. Especially when Spock himself was a dream of beauty -- his dark hair and eyes, his firm but generous lips, his incredibly strong body, stronger than his, able to take all his body could give...

There, now he'd done it. He was pressing against Spock's hip rather noticeably now. Very carefully and with great regret, he shifted his weight just enough to --

Iron restraints at his hips. Hands holding him in place.

"Spock?" the whispered question asked before he could call it to silence.

The hand on his left hip moved, slowly, smoothing up and then back along the curve of his backside, pressing now, kneading his flesh. Kirk shivered, rapture roughly scaling down his spine, half-pain of uncertain relief. His body responded immediately, growing hard, pressing down, while Spock's hands continued to move, one cupping around to his center, the other scraping lightly up his side, then over his chest until it found a nipple, pinching hard.

"Please," Spock moaned, eyes still closed, "let me inside you again."

Jim sobbed as the relief became complete. "Yes, fuck me, Spock."

A hot green flush over his skin as he rolled them on the narrow Starfleet-issue bed, holding Jim safe as the captain spread his legs, one arm groping for the lubricant on the side table before Spock produced the half-empty tube from under the pillows.

He was little sore, but smiled in pleasure as strong fingers cooled him with the gel inside. He was worried that Spock might grow overly solicitous, but a stolen look at his face assured him his lover was too far gone. It was wonderful to think instead of Spock being overly focused, as though obsessed with his body. Wonderful to think of him demanding his body as a right. Wonderful to know Spock's body was his to claim. Wonderful...

The computer sounded a hail from the bridge.

Kirk groaned and turned towards his desk, staring in utmost irritation through the partition, wishing he had the power to melt his computer console into slag. Spock didn't seem to notice the hail, shifting his body to accommodate this new position with no pause in the movements to prepare him for penetration.

"Spock," he murmured, not protesting, just warning. He had to get up and answer the hail.

Spock didn't answer, sucking hot kisses on his back, trying to maneuver them so that they could join.

With a groan, Kirk struggled out of bed and staggered to the console, unheeding of grace or finesse. Spock followed, grasping at him, and if he hadn't been so damned aroused it would be comical. Only a few steps -- perhaps the most difficult he had ever taken -- brought him to the desk, where he pounded the com key. He did not, of course, engage the viewscreen.

"Kirk here." Oh, God. Spock was positioning him against the desk, urging him to lean against it with locked arms.

"Scott here, Captain. Will ye be on the bridge at start of shift? We need to run a test of the new configuration."

What the hell was Scotty saying? Spock had his hands on his ass now, and was spreading him. Kirk bit his lip and drew blood, not screaming with the rough bliss of it as his cock slid inside him, past the tight muscle, deeper and deeper as his lover rocked gently, firmly back and forth.

"Captain?" Scotty's voice was curious.

"Mr. Scott." From where did this voice come from? Was he really making this calm announcement while Spock sank deeper inside him? "I'm taking advantage of my position and giving myself a little R&R today. I've advised Spock...to do the same."

"You'll not be making this an order for me as well, sir?"

Even as things were, Jim couldn't help smiling at the worry there. "No, no. Mind the store, Scotty. Kirk out."

"Aye, sir."

Focusing his entire sum of concentration, Kirk made absolutely sure he'd keyed the com off, then groaned and pushed back against the cock up his ass, spreading his legs, urging Spock to ride him hard and fast.

But despite the obsessive tone of Spock's initial urgency and evident need to be buried completely inside him, the Vulcan seemed abruptly content, and rested against his back, placing quiet kisses along his shoulders. His fingers stroked, such as he might upon his lute, along Kirk's chest, trailing along the hard ridges the straining muscles formed, plucking his nipples, reaching down finally to caress his cock, shuddering in sympathy with the slick hardness he found there.

"I love you, Jim."

Kirk thought he might simply fall apart. This was too many fantasies come true all at once. Any moment, he would awaken, alone in his bed.

"Spock...I need..." His choked whisper startled them both.

"What? Tell me."

He tried to let go of the breath inside him, tight and sharp, bowing his head over his stiff arms braced against the desk. Spock was inside him. He was so hard there was more pain at his groin than pleasure. If he let go of this breath, he might not be able to take in another.

"I need to come, Spock," he managed at last. "I need...ohhh, Spock. Just fuck me."

The iron restraints returned, holding his hips in place as his body was filled again and again with his lover's strong cock. His breath was released, pushed out of him by pleasure, and he found himself gasping, locked arms trembling now, the metal slick against his palms, his fingers slipping.

"God, Spock, oh, God..." he was groaning. Spock answered him without words, moving inside him, not pounding, not hurting, but nonetheless breaking his body apart. There was so much to feel, so much to want, so much given to him while he wanted to feel even more.

And then a hand left his hip, slid up his body, touched his face, and there was more and still more. Vaguely, he knew he collapsed against the desk with Spock on top of him, that they tumbled from there to the floor, that Spock came inside him while he emptied himself into the air, on the desk, over his own thighs. He knew, and he cared, but he was burned by Spock's thoughts, and their heat was all he wanted to know: desire and love and friendship and loyalty and lust and adoration, each with the passion he sought to return, ejaculating his white-hot feelings into Spock's mind until he was spent, and, shuddering, fell into nothingness.

e was in bed when he awoke, wrapped up in the heat of Spock's limbs, the weight of Spock's head pressing on his chest.

"Spock?" It was still a question, disbelieving.

"Jim?"

"I'm starving."

"The officer's mess?"

"I was thinking of a yeoman with a tray for two, actually."

"Good."

"Spock?"

"Jim?"

"I'll have to get up, to get to the com."

"What guarantee have I of your prompt return to bed?"

"Guarantee?"

"Correct. It would be illogical to release you from such an optimal position before I have gained assurance that you will return as soon as your business with the com has been completed."

"Well, actually, I can't guarantee that I'll return immediately."

"You cannot?"

Jim hated the note of genuine worry there. "Well, I just mean, I have to make a small detour to the facilities first."

Spock's body relaxed against him again. "So, you will be leaving the bed for several minutes."

"I'll be as quick as I can."

"Hmm. It would not serve my purpose to compel you to continue on without regard for your physical needs."

"You're my physical need, Spock."

"Do not say such things if you wish to leave this bed."

Kirk laughed and rolled over to plant a kiss on Spock's lips, then levered himself off the bed. He really was hungry, and he put in the call for lunch as though this were any other day he and Spock would be eating together, here, in Spock's quarters.

Thinking better of that plan, he crossed to his own quarters and made the call, then hopped into the bathroom, took care of what had indeed become an urgent need, and then washed himself quickly and grabbed his robe. He had this well-timed, and when he emerged it was to the sound of his door call. He stepped to the sliding panel and retrieved the tray from the impassive yeoman (male yeoman really were so much more convenient...though, would that change now, with Spock? Somehow he doubted it.)

Then, at a sudden vision, Kirk almost dropped the tray, trying not to laugh at the serious yeoman as he saw himself and his first officer engaged in the sort of jealous scene he'd once fallen into in his youth: Oh, Spock. I promise I've never so much as looked at another man!

Watching the door close behind the yeoman, smiling with unself-conscious happiness, he walked quickly through the connecting door and found Spock just as he had left him. He set the tray on the side table, then froze, watching Spock's eyes shine at him almost dangerously.

"You tempt me too far," the Vulcan murmured.

"Spock?"

A long-fingered hand raised up and indicated the robe. Kirk looked down. The closure hadn't gaped. The material hadn't ridden up. He looked back at his lover in puzzlement, only to find that his eyes had grown almost angry.

"Take it off," he whispered. "Please."

He shed the plush robe instantly, dropping it to the floor. Spock sighed as though in relief, his eyes drinking him in, drawing him forward, until he was lying atop the fire of Spock's body, plundering him. The covers he roughly pushed aside to reveal his lover's erection, and in one movement he had him in his mouth while Spock shouted delirious encouragements.

He'd had more than a few cocks in his mouth -- though most of them had been many years ago -- and he knew to appreciate the texture and size of Spock's jade-tinted organ. He was large, but not too large, hard as steel, soft as rose petals. When Kirk lightly tongued the slit, Spock writhed and gasped, and when he licked the underside, he felt the Vulcan's hands in his hair, not holding him down, just...there, trying to connect with him.

Kirk put up his hand and took one of Spock's in a firm grasp as he worked his tongue over the head again and again, then took him in deep and sucked hard, released him, and started again. Spock didn't last long, groaning a warning Jim paid no heed before he was drinking in Spock's sweet cum. It wasn't at all the taste he had expected the first time he did this. It reminded him very faintly of kaluha, and was as hot as coffee. It was, in any event, delicious, and he savored it in his mouth a moment before he swallowed the fire down.

"I'm addicted to you," he whispered. Spock grunted, he smothered a laugh, and then dragged himself up the bed to the food tray. There were two sandwiches, two salads, coffee and fruit. No grapes, however. Too bad.

He turned with food in his hands and sat crossed-legged by Spock's shoulder, feeding them both in small bites.

"Eventually," Kirk noted, "we will have to return to the bridge."

"Yes," Spock said, his voice rumbling and soft. "To see you on the bridge, to watch you command, to know that soon I will be inside you, or you inside me. That will be most...satisfying."

"Uh, you're making it very hard for me to finish this sandwich, Spock."

"How long have you suspected my desire?"

"Suspected, or hoped for?"

"Both."

Kirk sighed, thinking. "I hoped for it since...I don't know. Since I met you, or before that, even. Suspected...I saw you, looking at me, on the bridge, about three weeks ago."

"Looking at you? I have often looked at you, Jim."

Kirk smiled down at him after draining his coffee. "Not like this, you didn't."

"How did I look?"

Jim closed his eyes, the memory like a kiss. He'd turned suddenly to Spock before asking him a question, swiveling around in his chair, and had seen not his first officer bent over his console, but looking at him, as though he had been looking at him for some time. The impression was quite fleeting, just this side of something he could have imagined...

"Like I was water in the desert."

Spock's hand clasped his shoulder and Jim's eyes opened in surprise as he was pulled down against the Vulcan's chest. Spock's hands went to his hair, pulling him down for a fierce kiss, pushing open his lips, rubbing his tongue against its mate, tasting him, imbibing him.

And as much as Kirk wanted him back, he was quite sore now inside. Time for a little Jim Kirk sexual initiative. After all, there was so much he wanted to do with Spock.

But when he did move, the maneuver was simple: covering Spock's body with his own completely, touching as much of him with his own body as he could. It was sheer luxury not to have to worry about crushing his lover with his weight, sheer indulgence to reach up now and follow the contours of those extraordinary ears with his tongue, sheer bliss to listen to Spock groan and feel him move against him. Hands now caressed his chest, his back, his thighs as he moved up further to the tips of Spock's ears. He nibbled at the very apex, and then held on tight as Spock bucked, screamed, and came.

"Well," Jim said quietly as Spock lay beneath him, nearly insensate. "There's a spot I'll have to remember." He listened to Spock breathe awhile. "Do you always do that?"

"Always?"

"When your lover nibbles you there."

"I have never had a lover bite that area before. I was unaware of its effects."

"Hmmm. You'd think someone would have stumbled upon it," Kirk mused, privately quite pleased, resting his chin on Spock's sternum.

"As you are aware, there have not been many to attempt it."

"As I'm aware?" Kirk frowned down into those dark brown eyes.

"You have been aware of all my 'lovers,' Jim. Did they seem so many to you?"

Kirk knew his eyes were wide. So many? So few. So little love for his Spock. So little of this, what they had here.

"I should order you to stay in this bed with me for a month," he growled, twirling the nipples he admired between his fingertips and then smiling in delight as Spock moaned, his cum still warm on Kirk's skin, and closed his eyes with a shudder.

"A month, a year, a lifetime will not suffice."

"It will, if it takes me a lifetime to prove it," Jim whispered, making it a vow, a barricade against the fragility of having someone in his arms. Spock's eyes opened into his, and he felt the trace of their bond, bright-hot, sting like diamonds in his mind. "I'll love you with everything I am, Spock."

Spock opened his mouth to reply, then groaned harshly as Kirk's mouth covered his penis, bringing him to hard urgency almost instantly. His lover, his gorgeous, astonishing lover. Had he known, somewhere, Jim would be like this? Had that been the knowledge which had truly assaulted him for so long, the instinct which whispered Jim could be all he wanted? He reached out with his hands and his mind, seeking the warm, willing partner who could accept and return the release he sought: water in the desert, light in the sky, love in his life.

"That," he managed to gasp, "should suffice."

THE END

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