"I want to extend my gratitude," said Spock, "for the loyalty and the—mercy you demonstrated in spite of my hostile condition."

"The look on your face in sickbay made it worth it," said Kirk, pausing. "I questioned the genuineness of our friendship. I'm happy to know it's reciprocated."

"Indeed, Captain."

His eyes lingered in Kirk's for perhaps too long, as if he wanted to say something else. But they said goodnight and the Vulcan excused himself.

Spock was starting down the deck toward his own quarters when he forced himself to turn on his heel. He stood in front of the cabin door for several minutes, silently preparing exactly what he would say.

To his horror, the door hissed open and Kirk regarded him with disbelief. Before Spock could think of an excuse, Kirk pulled him inside. They stood very still, very close, for quite some time. Spock's inner chronometer failed him; he did not know how much time had passed.

"I guess we're on the same page," said Jim at last. He reached up, barely grazing his fingertips across the back of Spock's neck, shooting tendrils of gooseflesh shot down the Vulcan's back.

"Jim," he sighed.

He let his hand fall. "I feel like a criminal in hot pursuit. My instinct is to brake hard, to salvage what professionalism, if any, remains. Damn it, you're my first officer," he added quietly.

Spock nodded gravely. Such a relationship was not precisely forbidden per regulation; however, it was quite unorthodox and potentially difficult to maneuver. "I am also your accomplice," Spock offered, pausing. "Were I to use your vernacular, I might implore you to 'floor it.'" He stared down the consequences in Jim's eyes.

Something in those eyes snapped—an instant before the bruising kiss for which he had been waiting years.

Spock caressed Jim's cheek and jawline as he eagerly returned the kiss. The feedback from the human's mind evidently owed to this trivial, albeit tender, gesture almost knocked him over. Kirk's touch sent surges of unbridled desperation and pleasure. Spock received the alien sensations in fragments with each intermittent grab and shove.

They were gaining speed at an alarming rate, as was the frequency of Spock's pulse. He could barely breathe, yet he could not stop. He had been parched, now abruptly presented with all the water he could drink.

Sensing a mutual yearning, he managed to break away long enough to say, "Jim, please allow me to undress you."

Jim dragged his hand down the front of his face and shook his head. Before Spock could panic, he pinched the bridge of his nose and amended, "Not here. Over there." He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the bed.

Reassured, and eager to quell the captain's apprehension, Spock swept him off his feet with little physical effort.

"You don't trust me to walk ten feet, Mister Spock?" said Jim, grinning once he had gotten over the surprise.

"Indulge me," he replied in a graveled voice that caused Jim's eyes to roll backward.

Spock removed Kirk's clothing methodically and without delay, blushing feverishly at the nature of the task. Kirk was brown, sturdy, broad-shouldered. "Captain, you are very nicely put together," he remarked evenly.

Kirk smiled. "Keep talking." Meanwhile, he made himself useful with Spock's belt buckle. The Vulcan rushed to his assistance, unintentionally brushing Kirk's erection. "Hurry, Spock."

Spock wriggled out of his slacks and boots and immediately set to work. His instructions weren't clear, so he took the liberty of grinding his tongue on one of Jim's flushed, pert nipples. He sucked and nibbled until Jim whimpered.

"Spock, wait just a minute."

"Captain?"

"Back on Vulcan, you mentioned a link between you and your—intended."

"We were bonded mind-to-mind, that she would be alerted upon my Pon Farr."

"How does that work? Can you bond us?" he asked breathlessly.

Spock nodded as he considered the idea. "I would like that very much, Captain. However, it would require my undivided concentration. At the moment, I wish to perform fellatio on you. To which should I attend first?"

Kirk raised his eyebrows, apparently amused at the Vulcan's candor. "The latter, if you don't mind," he said at last.

"Indeed not. I crave it."