"He's staring at us again, Spock," murmured Jim.

"You know he is a full Vulcan and his hearing is therefore approximately 1.5 times better than mine," Spock murmured back.

"Then why are you whispering too?" smiled Jim.

"Because I do not wish every human in the mess to overhear our conversation, Jim," Spock's eyes were mischievous, "Unless of course you intend to explain our recent change in relationship status to the crew."

Jim looked at Spock. It was meant to be a forbidding look, but the Vulcan snuck a hand onto the table and ran it slowly down Jim's index finger. From where they were along the back wall of the mess, the only person who could see the gesture was S'Lash. S'Lash froze, his stare becoming fixated.

Jim's voice was half reproach, half delight, "What are you doing?"

"Whetting his appetite for dinner," murmured Spock.

Jim glanced over, just in time to see S'Lash unmistakeably swallow as he gazed at their hands.

Spock ran his thumb and index fingertips around the knuckle and across the soft webbing at the base of Jim's index finger several times, then back up to the tip. He swirled his fingertip gently around the sensitive nerves at the top of Jim's finger, and S'Lash choked on his food, stood up and left the mess.

Spock's mouth twitched. His eyes were pure wickedness.

"What the hell did you just do?" demanded Jim as quietly as he could whilst still managing to convey his indignation.

"Well, Jim, if you make a certain sign first, each finger on the hand then represents a different portion of the reproductive anatomy."

"You made the sign, didn't you? So then what were you doing? The index finger, what does that represent?"

Spock's mouth tightened still further, but his eyes became even more mischievous.

"No," said Jim, "Not-no, you didn't."

The Vulcan's face was deadpan.

Jim guessed, "It's the-the index finger represents the pe-"

"Yes," confirmed Spock, looking like his smile was going to leap out of his chest any minute and plaster itself all over his face.

"Oh, you're a bad, bad man, Mr Spock," murmured Jim.

"I know, Captain."

"So what does this one represent?" asked Jim, leaning forward and pulling their hands towards his lips, then slowly licking the tip of Spock's middle finger.

Spock looked as though he were going to fall off his chair, and fell silent. Nobody in the rec room could see anything, only that the captain had leaned forward in his chair, apparently saying something very intently to his first officer.

"Jim, do not… please…." Spock gasped softly.

It was the wrong thing to say. Jim slowly sucked the tip of Spock's middle and index fingers into his mouth, and Spock whimpered.

Jim's eyes were seductive, soft, "We probably should leave, dinner's in a couple of hours. We should go shower."

"You go on ahead, Captain, I cannot move," muttered Spock.

"Why not?" Jim looked puzzled.

"I have to wait for my physiological response to your attentions to my hand to settle."

Jim smiled slowly, "Alright, Spock, but I feel bad leaving you here like this."

"I assure you, Captain, your continued presence is not assisting my efforts at self-control."

Jim smiled, gave one last intense suck on Spock's fingers, stood up and sashayed out of the mess, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Spock silently cursed him and tried to think of something sufficiently unattractive to settle his body down. After about ten minutes of imagining Regulan blood worms and Denebian slime devils, and Doctor McCoy's annoying voice, he was able to stand up and follow his captain.

When he arrived in Jim's cabin, the captain was sitting in his swivel chair, facing away from Spock, his hands laced together behind his neck. Spock stared at him, feeling his erection grow again immediately. He walked up behind Jim and captured the pink digits in his mouth, to an appreciative murmur from the human, "God, I thought you'd never get here."

"It did take some time for me to control myself," replied Spock.

Slowly, Jim swivelled his chair around and looked up at Spock, his eyes soft and seductive, "Well, no need for that now."

Spock had released Jim's hands, but collected them again now with his own hands, and knelt before Jim to take his fingers back in his mouth. Jim tilted his head to one side, watching him as the Vulcan sucked gently on Jim's index finger.

"What does that represent?" asked Jim.

Spock released Jim's fingers from his mouth, "You were quite correct earlier."

"So if I stroke my index finger up and down on yours…"

"Yes."

"And if I swirl my finger around on the tip of yours…."

Spock's eyes nearly rolled back into his head, and he grumbled, "Shower. Now."

Jim stood, smiling and pulling Spock's hand in his, "Join me." It wasn't a request, and Spock was not about to disobey. He followed Jim into the fresher and stood beside the shower cubicle. To his surprise the human stepped up and began to lift the hem of his shirt and undershirt.

"I can undress myself, Jim," protested Spock with as much vehemence as he could muster.

"Where's the fun in that?" murmured Jim, lifting the shirts off over Spock's head. Spock felt the cool hands unclasp his trousers and slip around the back of his body before pushing the pants down towards his boots. He reached down and pulled off his own boots, then allowed Jim to slowly pull the remainder of his clothing down off his body.

The human stepped back slightly and clasped his hands together as he looked at Spock's naked body (reverence).

Spock pinched his own upper lip between two of his fingers.

"What does that one mean?" wondered Jim, watching him.

"It means, 'I must control my sexual impulses'," responded Spock.

Jim chuckled and reached for his hand, "Oh, no you mustn't!" He pulled the Vulcan's hands onto his body, and allowed Spock to run them down and remove his pants. Jim smiled broadly, and the Vulcan looked puzzled. Jim sighed, "I don't know, it always makes me happier to be pants-free."

Spock quirked an eyebrow, then proceeded to stroke the human through his shirt, eventually unclasping and removing the command gold cloth from his captain's torso and letting it fall to the floor next to his pants.

The Vulcan stepped forward and lifted Jim's hand to his mouth, sucking eagerly on the digits, running his hand over Jim's hand up to his wrist, elbow and shoulder, then up his neck to the meld points on his face, "May I?"

Jim nodded, and Spock used one hand to establish the meld, and the other to reach down and slowly run down Jim's chest and abdomen, then to slowly cup and massage Jim's balls, making the human buck slightly at first with the unexpected contact, then purr contentedly and step into Spock's embrace. Jim could feel the Vulcan's rock hard-erection pressing against his own, and Spock gave a deep moan of appreciation.

Jim felt the meld begin, this time like tendrils sneaking into his consciousness, slow and uncertain, "Oh, that's different," he said out loud, and Spock nodded and began to work his mind deeper into Jim's, pressing his forehead now against his captain's, freeing up both hands to work on Jim's body.

"Jesus, Spock, we're not even in the shower yet."

"My apologies, Captain. I find you… irresistible," Spock slid his hands down Jim's body and then back up to his neck.

"We need to shower before dinner," muttered Jim, and headed for the cubicle, towing Spock by the hand behind him. The Vulcan looked at their joined hands and followed his naked Captain into the shower like a willing puppy.

Jim turned on the water as hot as he could bear for Spock's sake, then pulled Spock into the water with him and wrapped his arms around the Vulcan's body as the streams of hot water drenched Spock's hair to a colour deeper than jet black and flushed his skin a dark olive green. Jim tugged, bringing their bodies together and pulling Spock fully under the stream of water with him.

The Vulcan closed his eyes against the onslaught of sensation from the warm water and his Captain's naked body pulled tight against his. Jim reached over over and collected some soap from the dispenser and ran his soapy hands down Spock's back. Spock leaned back into the silky, seductive feel of the human's hands moving further down into the tight groove leading down to his thighs.

Jim smiled and tucked his head into the side of Spock's neck to avoid the pounding, hot water, and nibbled gently on Spock's skin. His erection was hard against Spock's thigh as he whispered, "Open your hand."

Spock opened his eyes and realised Jim was offering him the ta'al, his fingers splayed in the Vulcan salute.

"No. We should not."

"I know we shouldn't," Jim's voice was husky, "But I can't stop wanting it."

Slowly, Spock's fingers splayed out in the ta'al, and he kept his eyes open as he brought his fingers towards Jim's. Suddenly, as though a magnet had pulled them together, their hands pressed tight to one another and their minds leapt the slight gap between them and joined. Jim gasped, and Spock closed his eyes and leaned back against the slippery shower cubicle wall, pulling the human forward onto him as he bent his knees and sagged down the wall slightly. Jim ended straddling him awkwardly, but Spock used his hybrid strength to hold the human's weight. The Vulcan felt as though every nerve ending were alive and on fire, despite the damping water.

Spock slipped his hand under their bodies and manoeuvred his painfully hard erection into position, then gave a deep, guttural moan of joy as the human slipped down onto his hardness, whimpering with pleasure as Spock's body entered his. The meld was flooded with Jim's pleasure, and Spock could not contain his urge to thrust, up and down, repeatedly, into the human's pliant flesh.

Jim's head was flung back into the support of Spock's hand and he was allowing the water to run over his face. Spock found the sight of the human's abandon overwhelming and within a few short thrusts had emptied himself into the wonderful body above him. Jim came with an animal cry, white seed pulsing out between them, as slippery as the soap. The meld took them both within each other, but somehow the sensation of the water hitting him made Spock feel anchored to the reality of the shower.

The Vulcan nearly cleared the shower cubicle when the sliding door opened slightly at his side.

S'Lash's soft voice said, "That was amazing."

"Shit! Dammit!" cried Jim, trying to squirm out of Spock's lap and succeeding only in making the Vulcan roll his eyes back in ecstasy once more.

"Did I startle you, Captain?" enquired S'Lash mildly, "I was only striving to obtain more information."

"Shit, yes!" snapped Jim, "Shit a brick, yes, you startled me! I think you just set the bar for startling people!"

S'Lash said mildly, "That will pass," but then his eyes drifted to Spock, who had quickly recovered after being startled and was sitting, head tipped back against the wall and eyes closed in bliss as Jim moved atop him.

S'Lash said softly, "The expression on his face is beautiful," and without seeming to know exactly what he was doing, began to reach for Spock's face with his hand, as though to seek the meld. But then he stopped himself and shivered, "I must not… take the meld."

He looked down at Jim and Spock's hands, joined palm to palm in the ta'al, and whispered in a shocked tone, "You have performed the forbidden meld?"

Jim thought, "Uh-oh," but said nothing about the meld, instead asking archly, "What are you doing in our shower?"

S'Lash said quietly, "Well may I ask you the same question, Captain, Spock."

"We were preparing for dinner," Spock's voice sounded incongruously normal, "Which is not…" he leaned forward slightly to spy the chronometer on Jim's wall, "For another eighty minutes, if I might add."

S'Lash gazed thoughtfully at them both and pinched his own upper lip between two of his fingers.