Author's note: I do not own these characters and I'm not profiting from this. This is probably the first and last time I'll ever write such a mature themed story, but it was fun for a one time event.
Nyota would not cry. She refused to cry because she made the promise to Spock that she would continue to perform admirably and that, to Nyota, meant not crying. She waited at her post on the bridge, the weight in her stomach like an anvil. Her senses were strained. Her ears were pushed to their limits, filtering anything that was Spock related from the noise of the bridge; her tongue, nervously retracing the pressure of his kiss only an hour ago. The last kiss? Nyota's eyes followed all movement on the bridge and her nose inhaled the sour smell of sweat and fear drifting from her skin and that of those around her.
Everything happened fast then. Spock was not on the Narada anymore and Nyota felt her skin prick with electricity as she watched the sensors in front of her reveal his suicidal plan. She took a gulp of air and continued to update the rest of the bridge on all of the signals that were emitting from the situation before her. Then the Jellyfish was gone and the Narada with it. Nyota held her breath.
The cheers erupted on the bridge after a message from the transporter room and Nyota finally allowed herself to breath. He was safe. Nyota sagged against her console. She was still performing admirably.
There were too many things to do and when Nyota returned to her quarters, she was exhausted. She'd only seen Spock in passing while he was debriefed by the admiral and asked a thousand questions that did not involve her.
She was surprised when, four hours into her slumber, she was awakened by a hot hand caressing her back. The surprise gave way to elation as Spock lay next to her and then held her tightly in his arms. Nyota was eager to face him, to ask questions, to see if he was really unharmed, if he was still with her, if he was further broken. How much could a man take even if he was half Vulcan?
Spock didn't speak. When Nyota caressed his face, scanning it for some secret message he looked into her eyes and saw something deep and tender, bare and... dangerous. His hands moved deftly across her cool flesh, lifting the thin cloth of her top from over her head. Nyota felt both the cool air of the room and the radiant warmth of her lover skate across her nipples at the same time. Spock's hands were at her breasts immediately, thumbs pressing against the erect tissue as his fingers dug in slightly, drawing a small gasp from Nyota's mouth.
Spock buried his mouth in the graceful place that her shoulder met her neck. He grazed his teeth along her clavicle, his tongue molten against Nyota's skin, until the urge to bite her sweetly scented flesh was overwhelming. Nyota's hands raked against Spock's back, her legs reflexively wrapped around his waist. She hurriedly pulled off his blue shirt, tossing it beyond the small bed they lay on and rested her cheek against his head. While Spock's mouth moved closer to Nyota's cinnamon colored nipple, Nyota felt the familiar wave of wet heat rise between her legs. She ground against Spock's hip bone as he slid his tongue slowly around each areola, using his teeth to draw the delicate skin there away from the soft mound of flesh.
Nyota pulled back and considered Spock for a moment before pushing him onto his back. He looked into her eyes again, drawn in by that new and unfamiliar look. Nyota straddled him, feeling him grow thicker and tighter below the heavy fabric of his standard issue pants. She felt his fingers grasp her hips as she leaned forward, half kissing, half biting a path down his solid chest. She hovered over his green tinged nipples, savoring the tension in his body, before taking them between her teeth. It was more than Spock could be expected to take. His hips convulsed and Nyota ground her now soaking panties against him. In one motion Spock lifted Nyota, tore his pants off and rearranged himself beneath her. His hands slipped between her skin and the small white swatches of fabric and within a second, they were reduced to shreds.
Nyota was wet. So wet. Spock delighted in the cool tightness of her body as she slid onto him slowly. There were too many sensations to compute, so instead, Spock let his mind go blank; he watched as Nyota rose and fell upon him. He met her each time, his hips pushing against her thighs. She steadied her self with her hands on his chest, her hips continuing to move, her body drawing him in deeper with each thrust.
Nyota felt the tightness at the base of her spine move up and through her abdomen. She was close. She slammed her hips harder against Spock, the sound of flesh drowning out the sound of blood in her own ears. Her senses, again, were strained. As the muscles in her abdomen began to contract, Nyota's lips met Spock's. Their mouths moved against each other, tongue and teeth, consuming the others' lips as though they were starving. Nyota was lost to the bursting release as it unfurled from her abdomen and shot through to her fingertips. She dug her nails into Spock's chest as her back arched and she screamed his name. A moment later Spock felt his own release and pushed into Nyota fervently one last time before she collapsed on him in a heap.
It took a very long time for either of them to speak, but it was Spock who broke the silence first.
"Nyota, I am curious," he said softly "I have become adept at recognizing your emotions through your facial expressions. Tonight, however, I saw something... unfamiliar to me. Please explain."
"I missed you Spock. I love you. I've never said it before, but I do. Also? Don't ever do anything like that again."
Spock settled back into the pillow with Nyota curled against him, her body rapidly cooling and considered the situation.
"Nyota? Is this what is deemed a heroes welcome?"
The room was silent, but for Nyota's soft snoring.