Coming Home - Chapter Nine

Once the larger project team had filed out from their daily meeting, Kirk addressed his senior staff.

“Right – updates.  Yesterday the team I was on completed construction of the first hydroponics facility.  One down, nine to go.  Good work by everyone.  Scotty?”

“As you say, first glasshouse completed.  We had some wee problems wi’ the irrigation systems but nothing my team couldn’a handle.  Frae now on, the rest should be a doddle.  Also working on the building of a utilities infrastructure that’ll run out to the new city.  Communications is a priority wi’ the project Mr. Spock and Uhura are working on.  Phase one should be completed by the time we leave.”

“And an update that involves Scotty,” Kirk interjected.  “He’s managed to charm the best chef this side of Alpha Centauri to join us from the Republic.  They’re back here this afternoon dropping off more supplies, so Ensign Susan Stewart will join us then.  She’ll be helping in the commissary while we’re here and will then take up her place on the Enterprise when we depart.”

“This is your old girlfriend, right?” Sulu asked with a grin.

The engineer blushed.  “Aye well that was a wee while ago, Hikaru.  I’ve no idea if she’s still romantically interested in me.”

“But you are in her,” Sulu prodded.

“Will you be ‘walking out’ with her when she gets here?” McCoy teased.  “Maybe impress her with your ample nacelles.”

“Right, that’s it.  I’m nae saying another word.”  And with that he folded his arms and sat back huffily in his seat much to everyone’s amusement.

“Update Spock?” Kirk said, moving the meeting on.

“The storage of the native Vulcan plants and seeds in the new vaults is proving problematic, but not insurmountable.  Nevertheless, we anticipate commencing first planting today.”  As Spock continued to detail the plans for the day Kirk temporarily stepped out of his role and just watched the man he’d had rampant sex with earlier that morning.  Sitting so upright, and talking in that quiet voice of his, it struck Kirk again as incredible that he was responsible for some of the strongest orgasms he could remember having.  Feeling a twitch in his cock, he forced his mind off that subject.

He glanced across the table to where Bones and Uhura sat side by side and wondered what was going on there.  He’d caught them taking a walk together two nights earlier and the doctor had eschewed his normal seat to his left at briefings, to sit with the communications officer.  Hmmm, one to watch, he decided.

“…and with the modification completed, the equipment is now safe to use underwater,” Spock finished.

The meeting continued for a further fifteen minutes.  McCoy took the opportunity to complain again about not being able to ‘do the job he came here to do’, other than with ‘stupid-ass’ crew who continued to injure themselves – gaining one fairly serious concussion, two fractures and several strains.  Uhura discussed some teething problems she was having with the software that Spock offered to take a look at.  All in all, Kirk decided, Day One had been pretty productive.  Once the meeting was over, as everyone was leaving, he held Bones back.

-=-=-

As the Enterprise’s senior team filed out, the ambassador nodded to each one in greeting and then entered the room.  Jim and Spock, he noticed, were sitting together and it was clear to him that they had become more intimately acquainted.  He had discerned as much the previous evening over dinner, but now it was stronger.  He could see it in the subtle modifications of their body language and he could sense it in a transformation in their respective auras.  When they sat close together, as they were doing now, the edges of their energy fields melded.  The knowledge threatened to produce a smile of satisfaction which he ruthlessly suppressed.  Now was not the time to indulge in a celebration of the victory of his plan.

Focusing on the matter at hand, he regarded McCoy who was sitting with a barely concealed glare aimed at him.  He hadn’t spent a great deal of time around the doctor, but enough to have realized that he was far more similar, temperamentally, to the Leonard he had known than he and his own counterpart were, or indeed than his bondmate and Jim were.  The main difference,  from his experience to date, was that this McCoy was somewhat more raw and abrasive.  He had concluded it was because their meeting was taking place closer in time to the death of his father and his bitter divorce, which the records he had checked had assured him had also taken place in this timeline.

“Dr. McCoy,” he began.  “You have asked why you and your team have not been given access to Vulcan patients.  I am now in a position to answer you.”

“Now don’t be giving me any of your Vulcan esoteric mumbo-jumbo, Sepak.  I know when I’m being fed bullshit.”

The ambassador allowed a small smile to escape.  Indeed, they were remarkably similar.  “I assure you I will be entirely candid with you,” he promised.

McCoy listened to his explanation about broken bonds and Pon Farr.  The ambassador was gratified to discover he had correctly predicted McCoy’s first question, addressed not to himself, but to his younger counterpart.

“So what do you intend to do, Spock, if we’re stuck in deep space and this mating drive suddenly hits you out of nowhere?”

In response to the question, the ambassador watched Spock visibly stiffen.  “You will cease to pry into my private matters, doctor.”

The older Vulcan sympathized with Spock, remembering his own reluctance to speak of personal affairs at that time of his life.  His conditioning had run deep and it had taken years of patience and understanding from his bondmate before he felt entirely comfortable disclosing certain thoughts, feelings and memories.

McCoy ignored Spock’s response, clearly unwilling to be intimidated.  “What’ll you do?  Find a handy crew member?”

“Bones, that’s enough.” Kirk warned tightly.

“Goddamnit Jim.  Don’t you go burying your head in the sand too.  Didn’t you hear what Sepak said?  If Spock can’t find a suitable mate when the time comes, he’ll die if he can’t find someone to fuck.”

“I said enough!  You’ve gone too far, doctor, and will apologize to Spock now.”

The ambassador could clearly discern Kirk’s anger, his fists balled at his side, and silently applauded his control as he took several calming breaths.  It had ever been thus, Jim providing the balance and in their earlier years together, frequently the buffer, between the doctor and himself.

“I’m sorry, Spock,” McCoy mumbled.  Then a little louder added, “My concerns remain valid.”

“Doctor,” the ambassador interjected.  “Your concerns are valid.  However, it will not be an issue for Spock for a number of years.  When the time approaches, should he wish to, he may make appropriate arrangements.”

McCoy turned to him.  “You just said the time this hits is only approximate.  Spock’s hybrid physiology—”

“—will not be an issue, I assure you.”  He held back the smile that fought to break out as once again, he was reminded of how he’d spent a large proportion of his life in another universe dealing with this irascible, but caring man.

“You don’t know that, Sepak.  Not for certain,” he argued.

It was at that precise moment, as the ambassador caught Kirk’s eye, he knew the young man had finally realized what he had foreseen – that McCoy would accept no less than irrefutable proof – and he was about to furnish him with it.

Knowing what was coming, he watched Kirk sit back with a smile, arms folded across his chest, to watch the unfolding drama, one with the knowledge he had, he would no doubt find entertaining.

“But I do, doctor,” the ambassador countered.  “Do you have your medi-scanner with you?”

“What’s that got…?”  He gave the doctor a stern look which caused him add resignedly, “Yes, I do.”

As he got up, his younger counterpart, who clearly understood what would come next, joined him to stand side by side.

“First, take a reading of Spock,” he said mildly.

He squinted at the read-out.  “Crazy Vulcan readings, all over the place.”

“Now, if you will, take one of me.”

McCoy did, looked at the readings, took another, looked at them again, took one of his counterpart, just to make sure.

“You’re half human,” the doctor said finally, looking at him.  “How can that be possible?  Genetic engineering was nowhere near advanced enough to create a Vulcan-Human hybrid at the time of your birth.  It hadn’t long been perfected when Spock was conceived.”

“You are correct, Doctor.  Is your tricorder able to identify DNA blueprints?”

“Yes, why?”

“Take a reading from us both.”

McCoy did and scowled at the readings, and tried again.  By this time, Kirk was grinning broadly, clearly enjoying the spectacle immensely.  Seeing Jim’s evident amusement, it was all the ambassador could do to school his own face to impassivity.

McCoy’s face, clearly showing his disbelief, looked at the younger Vulcan.  “Your DNA's identical – you're a clone,” he accused.  “It’s been illegal—” He looked confused and glanced back at the ambassador.  “No, wait a minute.  This would mean Spock’s a clone of you.  But he can’t be—”

“Bones, Bones,” Kirk interrupted.  “Spock’s not a clone – at least not in the way you mean it."

“Then how—?”  His confusion was very evident.

The ambassador explained in words what he had shown Jim in the meld on Delta Vega and consequently, it took far longer to impart the necessary information.  He anticipated a full interrogation at the end, but instead McCoy sat and quietly took it in.  For someone who had yet to be exposed to some of the stranger and more fantastical elements he was certain they would encounter on their future voyages, the doctor was being remarkably accepting of the situation.  Perhaps having first hand experience of the devastating effects of the Narada’s visit to this timeline had been enough.

Finally, he turned to Kirk and said, “For god’s sake, Jim, it’s bad enough having one insufferable Spock to deal with, but two…”

Both he and Jim found this unfinished comment amusing, but clearly his younger counterpart did not as Spock launched into a defense of the perceived sleight.  “If you were not so illogical—”

“Spock,” Kirk interrupted.  “Notice of the two of you, you’re the only one trying to vindicate yourself.  I’m guessing the ambassador has had plenty of time to figure the best way to handle Bones.”

“Indeed,” he agreed with a quirk of the lips.  Over the course of many years, he had discovered that left to his own devices, the doctor would frequently run out of steam if he failed to elicit the argumentative feedback he was soliciting.  McCoy scowled.

Kirk turned to the doctor.  “Now will you believe Sepak – or rather, Spock?  He knows exactly to the day when our Spock’s Pon Farr will come, and I believe he’s made a mental note of it.”

“That is correct, Jim.  It will not manifest itself for further 8.2 Earth years.  Well beyond your current mission and long enough, I believe, for Spock to find a suitable bondmate.”  McCoy did not need to know at this point, the ambassador thought, that he was reasonably certain his younger counterpart already had.

“Okay,” Kirk said, pointedly changing the subject, “can you fill in the doctor on how his medical team can help?”

He imparted what knowledge needed, and arranged to meet McCoy later that morning to make introductions to the Vulcan healers he and his team would be working with. 

“Admiral Pike gave me permission to tell you Bones,” Kirk said once the briefing was done, “but Sepak’s true identity is a matter of StarFleet security, known only to four – now five – serving officers.”

“Don’t worry, Jim.  I’ll keep my mouth shut.”  With that, the doctor left to brief his staff.

The three men sat alone, no-one speaking until he broke the contemplative silence.  “Am I correct in surmising an alteration to the status of your relationship?”

“You are correct,” his younger counterpart admitted.

“Then I must work with you before you bond,” he said.

“I’m not ready for—”

“I do not wish to bond at this—”

Kirk and Spock said simultaneously.  He carefully hid his dismay, reminding himself that they had known each other only a matter of months, that they were so much younger than when he and his bondmate had first met and it had taken them years to take that step.  He wished for them to avoid the same errors in judgment he and his own Captain had made, that had diminished their number of years together.

“May I know your reason?”

The ambassador watched as Kirk inhaled, not looking at Spock.  “Look, just because we’ve decided to take our relationship to another level doesn’t mean we should be jumping into a bond.  That’s one hell of a commitment.  I’ve had a different life from your Jim, and Spock and I have taken this step at a far younger age than you did.  I don’t feel ready for it.  Not even close.”

He turned to his younger counterpart.  “And you Spock?  What issue do you have?”

“I fear…” His voice faltered, avoiding looking at Kirk.  “My control is not sufficient.  I do not believe I could control the bond alone and Jim is not a telepath.  As another male, in the madness of Plak Tow, I may view him as competition and injure…or kill him.”

Kirk turned to Spock with a startled look and the ambassador sighed.

“That is the reason why I wish to work with you. Spock.  You appear not to have learned how to control your emotions, you merely suppress them, but they do not always dissipate.  There is considerable anger within you and on the occasions when it erupts, you display a marked tendency towards violence.”

The young Vulcan glanced at Kirk and then to him.  “When Jim goaded me in order to prove I was emotionally compromised, my desire was to kill him.”

The ambassador smiled and nodded.  “I believe, Spock, the cause was sufficient.”

“You find humor in this?”

“Spock, had you truly intended to kill Jim, you would have used tal-shaya.  As you are well aware, it is far more swift and efficient.  I believe you merely wished Jim to…suffer a little, as you were suffering.”

"Tal-shaya?" Kirk asked almost reluctantly.

"Tal-shaya is a Vulcan martial arts technique, Jim," he explained.  "It was considered in ancient times to be a merciful form of execution. The technique is performed by applying pressure to the victim's neck, causing it to snap instantly."

"I had a feeling I didn't want to know," he said with a grimace.  "You know, Spock, it was his idea to get you all riled,” he added, pointing at the ambassador with a grin.

The ambassador had come to the conclusion in retrospect that it was the one area in which he had miscalculated, assuming that Jim and Spock would be far more similar to himself and his bondmate than they actually were.  Outside of his Time, the only occasion he had lost control of his anger with his own captain had been under the control of external influences.

“Indeed, I may not have been so rash in suggesting this course of action, had I been aware of the difference in temperament between us,” the ambassador admitted to Kirk.  “The fact that Spock marooned you on Delta Vega – an extreme action I never would have carried out – should have alerted me to the disparity.  I was not thinking logically at the time.”  He turned to the younger Vulcan and added, “I suspect you attribute your lack of control to your Human genetics, but I can tell you that this is not so.”

Spock looked stricken.  “Then why…?  He didn’t complete his question and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.  “I do not understand.”

“I have spoken at length with Sarek about this.  When Nero destroyed the Kelvin, it swiftly became known that Romulans were a Vulcanoid species.  This led to the Vulcan people becoming the subject of Federation-wide xenophobia.  Vulcans in their own defense became even more insular and suspicious of outworlders.  Your father, married to a Human, was accused of being a traitor.  He attempted to protect you by whatever means he was able, and supported you until you joined StarFleet.  However, I do not believe you ever dealt with your anger, toward your peers for their constant maltreatment of you, nor toward your parents for giving birth to you.”

“How does this differ from your experience,” Kirk asked quietly.

“In my timeline, the Romulans did not appear for another thirty years.  On Vulcan, Humans were tolerated and while my peers at school had issue with my mixed heritage, it was not severe.  The issue did not generally extend to adults.  My greatest challenge, growing up, was with my parents.  My father expected me to be as a full Vulcan and I continually failed him in that.  My mother wished for me to be more Human and again, I failed.  I chose the Vulcan way from an early age and learned to control.  I resigned my commission in StarFleet before I was forty Earth years to spend three years learning to become a Kolinahr Adept and in that endeavor, too, I failed at the final test.  However, I learned much from my time at Gol prior to rejoining StarFleet, and Jim became my bondmate almost immediately after we were reunited.”

This simple feeling.  How ironic that he had been drawn to the pure logic of the machine, only to discover that the machine was drawn to him and the feelings he had spent years attempting to purge.

“How can you help me?” the younger Spock asked eventually.

“I can heal the broken bond to T’Pring, and I believe I can teach you techniques that will allow you to focus on control rather than repression.”

Spock looked at Kirk and then back to him.  “There is not sufficient time.”

He had anticipated that answer.  “We may do it tonight.  Come to my quarters at 21:00 and we will work through the night.”

He watched as Spock got up and strode to a window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out.

He and Kirk remained silent, giving Spock the space he needed to come to a decision.  After several minutes he finally turned around and approached them.  Standing behind Kirk, he placed his hand on his captain’s shoulder and with his thumb, stroked the back of Kirk’s neck.  In the silence of the room, the ambassador heard the captain’s breath involuntarily hitch and was reminded of how he had been able to effect such reactions countless times on his bondmate.
 
“Very well,” the young Vulcan said finally, and Kirk exhaled quite loudly.

The ambassador stood, knowing the two men would wish to discuss this development in privacy.  “I have duties to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.  Jim, Spock.” With that, he left the room.

Outside the building, the ambassador found Healer Soveran waiting for him, his long black robe contrasting with his white hair.

“Greetings, Sepak.  I would speak with you.”

He already knew what the discussion would be about.  “Greetings, Soveran.  How may I be of service?”

“It has come to my attention that you have persuaded the Elders to divulge information to outworlders that we do not even speak of among ourselves.  For what reason do you take it upon yourself to defy tradition and share all that we hold sacred?”

It was not the first time that he noticed the Vulcans of this timeline were even more insular and mistrustful of non-Vulcans than his own timeline.  “Might I point out, Soveran, that we are all outworlders here.”

“You are dissembling.”

“I am merely noting that Vulcan is gone.  If our species is to survive, then we must change and adapt.  We cannot live in the past and allow our ancient traditions to stifle us – many of them are no longer relevant.  We are in need of aid, yet it is illogical to request assistance without specifying the nature of the issue.  If they do not comprehend, they cannot help.”

“Your logic is faulty.  We require no assistance.  I am here and can adequately deal with those in greatest need.”

The ambassador was aware, from having lived among Humans all his life, that Soveran would come across to them as arrogant.  Perhaps he was, in which case a reminder that he was not infallible might be in order.  “Yet you lost another to the Fever two days ago,” he pointed out.

“He was beyond help before I arrived.”

“Nevertheless, while your abilities are not in question, it is illogical to expect you to take the burden of responsibility solely upon yourself when there are many healers who desire to learn from you.”

“It is not a burden,” Soveran countered.  “I am doing my duty by serving my people.”

The ambassador noticed the healer’s deliberate insinuation as though he were not himself Vulcan, and knew one of the Elders must have divulged his identity.  “Dr. McCoy is an exceptional physician.  While he and his team work at the colony medical center, the healers whose places they take will be free to attend training with you.  In that way, I believe you will better serve our people.  You can rest assured Dr. McCoy will be most discreet.”

“And when he is gone, you plan to tell others?”

“The information is necessary for Dr. McCoy not just for his assistance here.  As you are aware, he is also physician to Ambassador Sarek’s son.  Beyond that, with the Vulcan Science Academy unable to offer more than basic tuition, to date, two hundred forty four young Vulcans have applied to take the entrance examination for the StarFleet Academy.  If more are to enter the service, then StarFleet Medical will need to be informed of the potential issue that will befall all male Vulcans at some time during their careers.”

“I was unaware Vulcans are enlisting with StarFleet.  Your argument is logical, Sepak.”

The ambassador bowed his head slightly.  “I am honored, Soveran.  If you will excuse me, I am required elsewhere.”

As the ambassador headed towards the building that was currently housing the colony’s main computer systems, he allowed himself a sigh of relief that Soveran had not argued harder.

Now he was alone, he allowed his mind to turn back to the meeting that morning, and Jim and Spock and their admission that they had become romantically involved.  He allowed himself to indulge in the entirely illogical act of feeling inordinately pleased that his plan was working so well.  As for assisting his young counterpart, he would require a period of meditation prior to his 21:00 scheduled arrival, and made a mental note to complete his duties for the day in good time.

-=-=-

That evening, Kirk stood in line at the commissary, recalling the conversation he and Spock had had following the ambassador’s exit.

“Are you okay about letting the ambassador help?” he asked, getting up to stand in front of his lover, taking one hand in his own and running his thumb over the backs of the slender fingers.

“If he is able to teach me techniques to better control, then I believe we will both benefit.”

“Just…don’t learn to control too much,” he said, pulling Spock into a loose embrace.  “There are times when a little loss of control can be fun.”

“Indeed, then I shall remind the ambassador of this,” Spock deadpanned.

Their foreheads pressed together, he smiled and said, “See that you do.”

After a brief kiss, which he couldn’t resist while they had a little privacy, they pulled apart and left the building to follow the call to duty.

“Good evening, Captain,” came a familiar voice, pulling him out of his reverie.  Just the sound of his voice sent an arrow of heat to his groin.

“Busy day?” Kirk asked, smiling at Spock who had stepped up beside him.

“Indeed.  Uhura’s computer issues have now been resolved, and despite the challenges involved in setting up the seed bank, the first hydroponic facility is now fully functional.”

“Sepak mentioned there’s a surfeit of scientists here at the colony.  Is it a case of ‘too many cooks spoil the broth’?” Kirk smiled.

He watched as Spock considered the proverb.  “Indeed, although it is my intention to ensure that the broth does not become spoiled.”

Kirk grinned.  “Speaking of which…”  Having gotten to the front of the line, he glanced over the buffet.  “I skipped lunch so I’m starving.”

As he served himself from the buffet, he continued talking.  “The Republic came and went.  While they were offloading supplies, I spoke briefly to Captain Laga’ath.  She wasn’t too pleased about losing Ensign Stewart, but at least Scotty will be happy.”  He looked around to see if they were in the commissary and for the first time, noticed Bones and Uhura eating dinner and deep in a conversation in one corner of the room.  “I’m guessing Scotty’s working on a more private reunion,” he grinned.

His selection completed, he glanced around, noticing colored uniforms ordered in groups around tables and frowned.  Turning to Spock he said quietly, “They’re working in cross-departmental teams, but as soon as they hit free time, they all sit with people from their own department.”

“As you and I, the Command team, are doing,” Spock pointed out mildly.

“Point,” Kirk conceded with a grin.  “Maybe as the week progresses we’ll see more integration.”  They moved towards a table with free space where staff from the science department were sitting.  One of them, Kirk noticed with an inward wince, was Charalam.

After Spock made the initial introductions of the rest, they joined in the general chatter with the team as they ate their meal.  When they’d finished, one of the crew spoke up.  Kirk pulled the name up out of the eight he’d just learned.  Ptur, Ensign.  He made a point of trying to learn everyone’s names.

“Sir,” she addressed Spock.  “Do you know when Anderson will be fit to return to duty?”

“Dr. McCoy has indicated a further three days before commencing light duties”

Considering he’d almost drowned, Kirk thought the young ensign had looked remarkably well when he’d stopped by the previous morning.  Bones was keeping him off duty to ensure there were no residual issues with his lungs.

“Have you replaced him for the survey tomorrow?” Ptur asked.

“I will need to look at the rotations, Ensign.  The logical replacement would be Katynsky; however she was injured yesterday.”

“The concussion?” Kirk asked.  That was the only injury from the previous day that had required further observation.

“Yes sir.  The doctor is unwilling to allow her back on duty for a further forty eight hours."

Kirk knew that juggling people around was time-consuming and Spock would not have time to do it later.  “What was Anderson going to be doing?” he asked.

“He was going to that mountain range…” Charalam chipped in, waving her hand in a vague direction.

“I think you’ll find, Ensign, they are in that direction,” interrupted Spock.

Charalam looked over her shoulder to where Spock’s index finger pointed.  “Right, sir,” she said sheepishly.  “Uh…”  She turned back to the captain.  “It’s a geological survey to search for underground reservoirs.”

Kirk was stunned, given their previous encounters and the fact that she clearly had no sense of direction, that this woman could actually put a coherent sentence together.  The proposed survey had been brought up at the main project meeting the previous day.

“The mountain range is seventy seven kilometers north-west of here and with peaks reaching up to ten thousand meters, contains abundant snow which varies in altitude according to the season," Spock explained to him.  "The rock is highly porous, and since there is little evidence of rivers, it has been suggested that as the snow melts, it sinks through the rock and collects in underground caverns.  A number of teams from the colony have been working on this project, and I offered the assistance of some of my staff.”

“Any special qualifications needed?” Kirk asked.

“None that you do not already possess, Captain,” Spock confirmed. “As there appears to be an issue with any equipment using electrical charges, it is purely a visual survey.”  Spock moved his head to one side and Kirk just knew that Spock was about to tease him.  “I believe you have the capability of recognizing a body of water.”

Kirk grinned.  “Despite growing up in land-locked Iowa, yes I think I do.  And as I’m not on any rotations, you won’t have to shift people around.  Who will I be working with?”

“Me, sir.”

Kirk looked at Charalam and his heart sank, actually quite a long way.  It took a lot of effort, but he managed to keep a stoic expression carefully plastered on his face.  “What time do you need me, Ensign?”

“There’s a briefing to go over plans in the meeting room at 07:00, sir.”

“Very good, I’ll see you there.” Kirk glanced back at his first officer.  “Spock, you can run the staff meeting and take care of things at Elder Sepak’s project meeting tomorrow morning, and give him my apologies for my absence.  What time are you meeting with him this evening?”

“In thirty four point seven minutes, sir,” he said, standing.  “If I might have a word, Captain?”

Kirk held back his grin as he wondered if he was that transparent.

Outside, the moon was a little fuller, but vanished from time to time behind the occasional cloud.  By unspoken agreement, they walked in companionable silence in the direction they had the previous evening

As soon as they got to their rock, Kirk turned with a grin and held out his arms, and this time they were quickly filled by a willing Vulcan.  Their lips met and he impressed a hungry, twisting kiss on Spock’s receptive mouth as his hands traveled up and down Spock’s back, and occasionally dropped further to grasp and knead firm buttocks.  The Vulcan’s hands were in his hair, caressing his face, his neck, his back, a constantly moving, abstract pattern of touch.

Their groins pressed tightly, lustfully together as they unselfconsciously embraced their carnal urges like two animals in heat.  It was Kirk’s need to pull in lungfuls of air which gave him time for a moment’s pause before he came in his pants.  Both of them would be returning to public places and could not afford to be seen with tell-tail stains on their uniforms.

“God, I’ve waited all day for this,” Kirk gasped as Spock’s tongue stroked around his right ear.  He’d always had a strong libido, but Spock was pushing buttons he hadn’t known he had.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” Kirk whispered to Spock with a grin, as he regained control of his breathing.  Not giving him time to answer, he continued, “I’m supposed to be a starship captain, but right now I’m feeling more like a teenager obsessed with a new date.  I had to beam up to the ship for ten minutes this afternoon to get rid of a persistent hard-on from thinking of you.”

“Indeed?  Will you share the experience with me?”

Kirk smiled.  That’s exactly what he’d hoped Spock would ask.  “Go ahead.”

Kirk closed his eyes in anticipation.  He was smart enough to see what all the possible benefits of having a telepath for a lover could be, especially while having sex.  He heard Spock quietly recite some words and then felt another presence in his head, another awareness. 

This was the first time in a meld in which he was the one sharing something that had happened to him.  Because of this, he understood he needed to guide Spock to the particular memory.  He knew that the rest of what he held in his mind the Vulcan would willfully ignore, honoring his privacy.

It is necessary.  You share that which you are willing.  To take what is not given is considered a violation. 

His mind appropriately produced an image of Spock sitting in a theatre, waiting for the play to begin.  At this, he sensed the Vulcan’s curiosity ripple through.  So he opened up the memory of that afternoon…

He was helping install the irrigation system in the second hydroponics facility to be completed.  It was a fairly mundane and repetitive task so, with his mind inactive, his thoughts turned to Spock, thinking about their lovemaking that morning and imagining what it would be like to fuck Spock, to slide all the way into him, to feel himself engulfed in Vulcan heat.

In the meld, he felt a reaction from the Vulcan but wasn’t sure how to interpret it.  More curiosity, or perhaps desire?  He felt Spock holding back so, ignoring it, he continued with his story.

With those thoughts going on in his head as he worked, his hard-on had been almost instantaneous.  So, of course, he tried not to think of erotic images of Spock, but the moment he took his mind off not thinking of them, they would return.  The slapping of skin on skin, balls bouncing together.  With communal facilities, he wasn’t certain what the captain jerking off in one of the stalls would do for crew morale, so as he needed to talk to Captain Laga'ath and complete the transfer paperwork for Ensign Stewart, he beamed back to the ship.

In his cabin, he quickly rid himself of his uniform and lay on his bed, his legs splayed wantonly.  Cupping his balls in his left hand he began to manipulate his already aching sex with his right in a rhythm he could literally do in his sleep.  Kirk shared in the meld, the image in his mind that had brought him to such a satisfying climax. 

In my fantasy, we weren’t lovers, he explained.  I was naked, intending to have a shower before going to bed.  I walked into our bathroom and was inside before I realized the shower was occupied; your back to me, water streamed in rivulets down your body.  I knew I should leave, but I paused, entranced.  You twisted under the water so that you were in part profile, eyes tightly closed against the cascade of water, and that’s when I could see you were masturbating, taking long, slow pulls of your beautiful, swollen cock.  Mine responded in sympathy, lifting upward like a yearning supplicant.  I could no more leave than will down my erection that was inspired by the carnal sight of you, my unemotional first officer, wantonly pleasuring yourself.

Without thought, my hand began to match your rhythm and that’s when you turned and opened your eyes.  At first they widened in shocked surprise; then they narrowed as they took in the sight of me standing naked, beating myself off.  We faced each other for over a minute before I figured we could both mutually benefit if we weren’t so far apart.

As I walked towards the shower stall, you pushed the door open for me in invitation.  You stepped back to give me space and then we stood, facing each other and as the water cascaded down your body, I felt envious of it, because I yearned for my fingers to touch you all over the way the water was doing.

Our eyes held each other's for long moments, and without conscious thought, our faces moved closer, our heads gently tilted.  For a few heartbeats we paused, as I felt each of your exhalations gently whisper across my face, before our mouths tentatively touched in the merest brush, our lips clinging for a moment and releasing; and again the lightest of touches but this time, a little more certain.  Our mouths moved together yet again, still hesitant, but the desire to remain, to explore, was greater than the need to pull back and assess.

Tongues followed lips in new discovery as I probed the uncharted regions of your mouth.  My hands reached out to touch, one splayed across your chest, feeling the soft hair between my fingers, the other hand following your jaw, up your ear to touch it as I had longed to since the first day I saw you.  I felt you tremble.  You followed my example and your sensitive fingers skimmed my body leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

I broke the kiss and gently turned you, wanting to touch more of you.  I filled my hands with liquid soap and touched your shoulders, following the steely contours of your long, lean back.  I reached around and pulled at your nipples, and then pushed my fingers through the mat of hair on your stomach as I kissed, licked and bit at your exposed neck.

I leaned up and began to nibble and lick your earlobe, my tongue following the contours and dipping into the shell.  You seemed almost to lose balance and leaned forward, placing both your hands against the shower wall.  Your new position meant that when I kissed the back of your neck, my cock collided with your ass, and I felt it nestle upright in the crease between your tight, muscular buttocks.  I slowly and suggestively pistoned my cock and we both moaned in pleasure as your hips began to move too. 

I moved the nozzle of the shower away from us and turned up the heat so the steam would keep us warm.  I took more soap and ran it over your back and ass as well as my front and cock, to create a soapy, slick friction.  I leaned around you and took hold of your cock, velvet soft over titanium and felt it jump as you gasped and your body shuddered.  You took my hand and showed me how to pleasure you, how you like to be held, where you like to be touched.

We rocked together like that but I wanted more.  I wanted your body to grip my cock the way I was gripping yours; I wanted to feel your heat all around me; I wanted you clenching my length as you came.

I let go of you and gripped your hips as I tried to hold my excitement at bay just a little while longer; it took several calming breaths to beat back my intense desire for you.  Sliding through the lather, my fingers glided into your crack until I found the tightly puckered ring of flesh I was looking for.  Gently, I pressed the tip of my finger just inside the tight circle of muscle and as I did this, I felt you press back, opening yourself up to me and allowing my finger to slowly slip inside.  You felt unbearably hot and tight, and my cock began to juice at the thought.  I slipped in a second finger and felt you begin to open, ready for me.

I was shaking as I guided my cock, brushing it over the hidden entrance teasingly.  I began to push a little harder and stared in thrall as I stretched you open, hearing a deep, throaty moan escape you.  You slowly swallowed the head and with impatience, you pushed back and suddenly, excitingly, I was buried to the hilt in the furnace of your body, I knew, in that moment, the tinder of my desire was about to be ignited into a raging inferno.

I didn’t know if this was your first time, so I initially let you set the pace.  I gripped your hips and slowly you retreated and advanced, and I was faced with the arresting sight of being pulled out and pushed in to your secret, intimate place.  I reached round to take you, to find your hand was already there, you’d already started pleasuring yourself.  You let go and allowed me to continue that for you.

My hips rocked in that ancient dance, and as I slid deep into you, each thrust was marked by the slapping of flesh on flesh and harsh, panting gasps of ecstasy.  I synchronized my hand on you with my movements, wishing for your sake that I could recreate with my fist the bliss of having you surround me so tightly.  I moved my other hand upward towards your chest, to roll a nipple between forefinger and thumb, and you groaned deeply.  I felt the resonance of that sound through your body and into mine through our points of contact and knew you were experiencing sensory overload as I surrounded you and filled your body and your mind.

Our pace became fast and frantic, moving us closer to the edge and then in a clutching, shuddering explosion, the universe was annihilated and solitary on my bed, my body arched upward in wild response as my cock leapt. in my hand.  Pulse after pulse was ripped from me in a frenzied, throbbing release, tremors racking my body until finally, I lay quiescent, a smile of anticipation on my face as I knew I would share this fantasy with you, tonight, and knew what the consequence would be.

That, my friend, Kirk said as they still shared consciousness, is what you bring me to.

They came out of the meld and Kirk knew that if Spock so much as breathed on him, he’d come.  Gasping for breath, he pulled himself back and unable to speak, flapped an arm for the Vulcan to stay away and give him a moment to recover some measure of control.  Spock appeared to be in better condition, but not by much.

“Wow!” he said, finally feeling his body had calmed down a bit.  “That was some meld, Spock.  Like,” he tried to think of a word for it and giving up, he grinned and shrugged, “like a meld-fuck!”

“Indeed.  You have a creative imagination, Jim.  I found myself most taken with this scenario.  It is unfortunate we do not now have time to explore it further.”

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

“Seventeen point six minutes.  Given the ambassador’s quarters are the other side of the complex, I estimate I must leave here in eleven point eight minutes if I am to avoid being late.”

At Kirk’s odd look, the Vulcan added, “Melds do not follow the course of real time.”

“Ah, right, I thought it had taken longer than it actually had,” he said, moving close to Spock with a lascivious look.  “Well, what do we have time for, my sexy Vulcan?”

The immediate urgency having lessened, Kirk kissed Spock hard and satisfyingly, bodies pressed close, his hands about Spock’s shoulders, playing with his hair and his ears, while the Vulcan’s hands roamed his back and clutched his ass.

Spock finally pulled away from the embrace.  “To answer your question, in the interests of pragmatism, might I suggest oral gratification.”

“A blow-job won’t leave any mess,” Kirk grinned.

“I believe I just said that,” Spock responded drily.  Then shattering the pompous Vulcan act, he took Kirk’s hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the palm before carrying it down and pressing against his swollen sex.

Spock’s erection felt hot, even through layers of clothing.  Pressing and rubbing the firm flesh with the heel of his hand, he captured the Vulcan’s mouth, then deftly undid the fastener to his pants.  With a reluctant flick of his tongue at its counterpart and a further closed-mouth press of lips to lips, he slid to his knees and gently pulled Spock’s pants and briefs partway down his thighs.

Taking hold of Spock’s shaft firmly, his mouth watered at the sight. Sticking his tongue out, he began to slide it over the head, tasting the liquid accumulated there, already loving its tang. When he closed his lips firmly over the head, he heard a harsh intake of breath.  It took two sucks and with a strangled groan, Spock’s hot lava was erupting into his willing mouth and he was enthusiastically swallowing everything he was given.

Suddenly Spock grabbed him by his upper arms, heaved him up to his feet and held him at arm’s length.  “Thee are a sorcerer, Jim,” Spock said in High Vulcan, and then smiled. 

Kirk grinned back.  “My turn?” he said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.  After the eroticism of the meld and the subsequent giving of pleasure, he ached for release.

Afterwards, he couldn’t recall how Spock got down there so quickly, he’d moved so fast, but suddenly his cock was being engulfed by wet fire and his balls drew up in eager anticipation of release.  He looked down and watched, enthralled, as his first officer, in uniform, slid down the length of his aching manhood until he could go no further.  For long, drawn-out moments, the Vulcan made no more movement and Kirk felt he was teetering on the edge of a precipice.  The head of his cock was at the back of Spock’s throat and when his lover made the action to swallow, throat muscles massaging the head, Kirk lost it completely, as an instantaneous flood gushed from him in pulsating waves of rapture.

Chapter Ten