Though she knew he wouldn't show it, not with people around, Michael Burnham knew Spock was having a good time. He had a way of smiling that required almost no lifting of the corners of his mouth. It was in the eyes, and a general feeling of happiness that radiated from him. Michael new Spock's smile, and if he were human, he'd be outright laughing right now.
The pool glittered in the sunlight that came down from a perfectly cloudless sky. The day was exceptionally hot, even for Vulcan, but the water was nice and cold. Michael swam circles around her foster brother, knowing he was literally out of his element in a pool, where humans laughed openly, music blasted from the speakers, and the smell of roasting meats and veggies filled the air.
"You didn't wear green!"
Sylvia Tilly was being particularly flirtatious with a Vulcan man attending as Sarek's guest.
"I'm required by law to pinch you."
"He doesn't have to wear green. He is green!" Detmer said as she laughed at shared a knowing look with Owosekun.
The man looked at Tilly with a somber expression. "If it is the law you should obey it."
"I am not aware that the observance of St. Patrick's Day requiring anyone to pinch another by law—" Spock began, but Michael splashed water in his face to silence him. He gave a small, dignified cough but remained silent.
Tilly pinched the man dangerously close to his butt, giggled, and then asked if he'd like to join her for a drink. He did.
"She's gonna hit that tonight," Owosekun said.
Detmer readily agreed. "Only if Vulcan's have sex outside of that seven-year thing I've heard about."
"Oh, they do," Amanda said, giving a little smirk as she took a deep drink of her iced sweet tea.
"So I've heard," Una, the first officer of the Enterprise, spoke up. "I've also heard they're particularly gifted with…stamina…"
"This is also fact," Amanda said, earning laughter from the other women in attendance of the party.
Spock was blushing so furiously at the laugh his mother shared with his commanding officer that he turned away from both women, fully aware his mother spoke of his father. Michael felt a stab of pity for him and decided to distract him from the moment by dunking him. Perhaps the cool of the water would alleviate the flush in his face.
"Go under!"
She lunged for him, gripped him by the head, and shoved him under the surface of the water. He immediately pushed off from the bottom of the pool and came back up, but this time he was facing her. The last thing she expected was the feel of Spock's hands gripping her legs, wrapping them around him, before he dragged her under with him.
The unexpected move nearly made her gasp and aspirate pool water. Her reflex was to grip Spock with her thighs, which she did, and wrapped her legs around him even tighter. She could feel him, that part which made him a man, press flush against her. Even in cold water Spock's body was warm. Unlike most men, his flesh hadn't shriveled up and hide in an attempt to escape the cold of the water. Their eyes met, and she felt her entire body flush with heat.
"I am capable of dunking you as well," Spock said, upon emerging from the water, that secret smile still on his face.
His hands were still under her ass, holding her against him. Michael gripped his shoulders, unsure if she should push away or wrap herself tighter around him. He may have been flaccid, but it still felt good having him pressed against her, and having his hands grip her the way they did.
For the first time since she came to live with Sarek and his family, Michael didn't see Spock as a brother. She saw him as the handsome young man he'd grown into. Their recent reconciliation, and the warmth between them, didn't help to calm her sudden arousal now.
She feared that if she remained wrapped around him for too long people might notice. Michael decided to push away, to put some distance between herself and Spock, especially since the smile left his face as he became aware of exactly how he held her, how his body fit so perfectly against hers. But before she could move way Spock's grip tightened, and he pulled her even tighter against him. Her mouth went slack when he put even more pressure against her, all the while never breaking eye contact. He moved his hips on instinct, grinding against her.
She could feel it quite clearly—his emotions. His awakening to her as something besides the girl he was told to view as a sister growing up. The girl who'd become a woman. A beautiful one he wanted to press himself against.
As soon as Michael pulled away, even the slightest tug, Spock released her. She felt something like embarrassment, perhaps even guilt at having touched her in so blatantly a sexual manner, roll off him in waves.
"I think I'll get out. I'm hungry."
Spock bowed his head. "I will eat as well…Sister."
Michael turned from the ladder and looked back at him. Her voice was almost inaudible when she spoke. "I'm not your sister."
As soon as she turned, she found herself making eye contact with Paul Stamets. His long-time partner, Hugh Culber, rested his head on his lap and enjoyed a novel. Paul's smile was knowing and kind when their eyes met. Feeling her face flush, Michael pulled herself from the pool and surveyed everyone else at the gathering. Nobody seemed any wiser of her sexually charged encounter with Spock in the pool.
Michael loaded her plate with both meat and veggies, while Spock, being vegan like most Vulcans, partook only of the vegetables.
"Michael, about what—"
"Now's not a good time, Spock. We'll talk later."
He bowed his head, and she thought she could see some hurt in his eyes at her rebuff.
"Quite a party," Stamets said, sidling up to her and loading enough food for both himself and his boyfriend onto his plate. Spock moved away, going to sit by himself under a tree on the other side of the pool. Michael swallowed guilt at how young, and lonely, he looked.
"Yeah, it's great."
"Wanna talk about it?"
Michael swallowed and carried her plate to a shady spot under one of the val'daar trees that lined the property. Their pink, red, and white foliage was in full bloom and put off a lovely scent.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I think there is," Stamets said, refusing to be brushed off so easily. "An innocent game of dunking with your foster brother turned sexual. Now you don't know what in the hell to feel."
Michael's hunger vanished. She began pushing pork barbecue around on her plate with her fork, mixing it a little with the coleslaw.
"Spock and I were raised together."
"Yet you told him you weren't his sister. And you're right, you're not. So what do you plan to do about it?"
"I don't have to do anything."
He smiled at her and took a sip of his tea. "I guess that's technically true."
"Look, it was just an accident. I'll just ignore it."
"Because that always works. Look, Michael, it's okay if you're attracted to him, and he to you. Like you said, you're not his sister."
He got up with this fully loaded plate and headed back to Hugh, who greeted the food with enthusiasm.
Yeah, he wasn't her brother. What bothered her most was how it felt off that wanting him between her legs again didn't feel wrong like perhaps it should.
The feelings of need weren't going away. In fact, they only worsened as the day wore on. She'd told Spock they would talk, only to avoid being alone with him so they could.
The heat of the day was more than the human guests could handle. Tilly was escorted to her hotel by her Vulcan friend. Stamets, Culber, Detmer, and Owosekun all shuttled back to the villa they rented. Spock gave Una his bedroom while he agreed to sleep in the library.
Michael stayed in the room that was still designated as hers, though nothing personal from her remained. Not that she had ever been big on decorating. She looked around the familiar space, struck by how small it seemed now. When she was a child it had seemed cavernous. Everything had seemed bigger than it was back then.
With the house in complete silence around her, Michael realized she missed the steady thrum of a starship's engines as background noise. The silence was so complete she ended up getting up to pace.
Spock was downstairs, in the library. Would something happen if she went to him? Would he be angry she'd avoided him?
"Computer, play ambient sound. Thunderstorm."
The strains of a violent storm filled the room.
"Something less aggressive. Less thunder."
The howling wind, booming thunder, and crashing sound of rain mellowed out to the sound of a gentle rainstorm. Michael laid back down and stared at the ceiling. She had learned several techniques to quell sexual desires while living on Vulcan. While those techniques would easily work on a teenage virgin, they weren't even remotely tempting to Michael now. Not after discovering the highs that came with the pleasures of sex.
So what if she'd only ever had one partner? He'd been a good one, Ash. He'd learned her body, as she'd learned his. They knew how to please one another. She only wish she knew herself as well as he did.
She tried to think of Ash. She tried to remember the taste of his lips, but all she could recall was Spock, and feeling him pressed against her. There was no point in denying it: She wanted Spock. She wanted all of him.
Since she can't bring herself to go to Spock and cross that line, Michael did something she'd only done a few times in her life—she allows her legs to fall apart, opening herself to the cool air of the room. She thinks that maybe she has the temperature controls on too high, but she's not inclined to warm things up. She likes the feel of the cool air on her heated skin.
Her wetness has soaked through the dense carpet of pubic hair that she's careful to keep trimmed, but also thick. As she slips her fingers through her lips, she feels herself getting wetter with each stroke. A moan escapes her as she enjoys the feel of her fingers over her sensitive, swollen flesh.
Spock's mouth. She could just imagine his mouth on her thighs. She traces her fingertips over the smooth skin of her open thighs, pretending it's Spock's fingers that run over her. Up, over her tummy, which quivers at her touch. Her breath nearly hitches when her fingers reach the hardened peaks of her nipples.
Her ministrations stoke the need in her, but the effort she needs to put into the steady stroking motions of her fingers, through her lips, up and over her clit, back down through her lips, is beginning to wear on her hand. She shakes it, feeling her wet fingers cold in the too-cool air of the room. She's just about to return to the job of getting herself off when she hears Spock's deep voice.
"Michael? I am not inclined to avoid discussing what happened in the—"
His eyes widen when he looks into the room and spots her on the bed, her legs splayed wide open, one hand pinching a nipple, the other tucked into the wet folds of her swollen lips.
"Spock…"
He should leave. She knows she should tell him to get out, but she can't voice the words. She can't make herself order him to leave. Instead, she looks up at him and watches as he gently closes the door and approaches her bed. His erection is obvious, his swollen member pressing against the fabric of his pajamas in a concerted effort to be free. They would have their conversation. Just not with words.
Without asking permission, he pulls down his pajama's, leaving himself naked before her. He gets onto his knees at her feet, runs his hands over her thighs, and, while keeping eye contact with Michael, he leans down and begins to plant soft kisses on her inner thighs, just as she'd imagined him doing only moments ago. He teases her, letting his wet lips move over her left thigh, coming so close to the aching need in her pussy, before skipping over to lavish kisses on her right thigh. The smack of his lips drives her to grip his hair in an attempt to guide him to where she needs him.
But Spock is having none of it. He pulls back, taking away the soft warmth of his mouth, staring her in the eye until she lets go. The message is clear, so she releases him, hoping he'll continue. The tease is better than nothing at all.
"Spock…"
His name is barely distinguishable from the sigh of her breath, but he hears it.
"Close your eyes."
Michael obeys, willing to do anything he says if it means he'll continue. The room goes dark, and almost as soon as her eyes are closed she feels Spock drag the flat of his tongue her through her lips and over her clit. She doesn't mean to moan so loudly, but Spock rips the sound from her like a free fall from a great height. How hard will she land? Will he break her fall?
Her eyes snap open. She gets, for a brief moment, to look down and see his face between her legs, watch as his tongue laps at her clit. The top side on the way up, the soft underside of his tongue as he drags it back down.
"Close your eyes."
It's a command she obeys out of fear he'll deny her what she needs.
Spock's hands, his skin soft and feverishly hot, as only a son of Vulcan can be, glides from her hips, over her belly, and up to her breasts. He squeezes them, pinches at her nipples, rolling them between his fingers as the ache inside her intensifies. A moment later he's sucking her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her cunt and into her belly. Her thighs squeeze, her hips lift from the bed, involuntarily, but Spock doesn't seem to mind being locked in a battle with her thighs.
Spock's kisses move upward, his lips grazing her belly button, then the underside of her breasts. He's leaning over her, his eyes locked on hers. Whatever he plans to do, she puts them on hold and pushes at his shoulders until he rears back, confusion on his face.
"You have changed your—"
His words are cut off in a hiss of surprise. Micheal has leans forward and presses her lips to the head of his dick. He's thicker than she expected, with a lot of girth. Taking him into her mouth means she's opened up until her jaws are painfully stretched. She eases down until he's touching the back of her throat. She tries not to gag, fails, but keeps going anyway.
It's his breath that turns her on. He's breathing heavily, panting, light grunts hitching his breath as she sucks hard on the pullback. Her hands go to his hips, and then around to grip his ass.
"Michael," he moans her name from deep in his chest. His breath hitches again when she cups his balls and squeezes. "Fuck…"
She's never heard Spock utter an obscenity before. Not in English, at least.
He suddenly pulls back, withdrawing from her mouth with a pop. She misses him, his musky scent, the rich, salty flavor seeping from the head of his cock. He's pushing her back, his mouth smothering hers, his tongue rubbing languidly against hers. The kiss is slow, sensual.
He looks her in the eye when he reaches down and adjusts her legs, spreading her legs wide, opening her to him. The pressure of his thick cock pushing against her is painful at first. She sweats a little harder as he pushes forward until her body relents and he breaks through. They moan together as he sinks in, her tight walls wet, heated, hugging him so tightly that the pleasure on his face looks exactly like pain. When he rolls his hips, she rolls hers with his until they're both moaning, gasping for air, their hands grasping desperately at each other's sweat-slicked skin until climax takes them both over the edge.
Their hearts are no longer racing twenty minutes later. They lay side-by-side, the sheets a tangled mess hanging half off the bed. She's a little sore, but very happy.
"You were amazing," she says.
"You were adequate."
Michael's mouth drops open and she sits up to glare at him in complete disbelief.
"That had better be an attempt at a joke or this holiday will turn into bereavement leave for your crew."
"You would have my mother bury her only son?"
"Yes!"
This time Spock's smile was open, bright, complimented with a chuckle.
"Of course it was a joke. You were wonderful."
He pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her.
"Rest, Michael. You will need it. Before the suns rise."