Chapter 10 - Drooling

Spock kept holding on to Kirk's elbow as they moved swiftly through the corridors. The members of the crew they met along the way all had the same reaction. They looked up, happy to see their captain alive, and then stepped aside at the sight of Spock's serious face and Kirk's torn shirt, not sure if this was the captain or some captured clone. They reached the elevator.

"You can let me go, Spock. I think you're unnerving the crew, and..." Kirk was interrupted by a something like a heat wave that stopped his breathing and made his ears burn. Spock had lowered his touch telepath shields. Kirk was flooded with the feeling that where Spock held his hand did not matter, his hold would last. When the wave had passed over him he had to grab the handle on the wall to steady himself. Spock was taking him to his own quarters.

With the door locked and the lights dim, Kirk was standing against the wall with Spock close in front of him, and Spock carefully arranging Kirk's hands flat against the wall. He positioned them almost without touching, then placed each of his own fingertips on Kirk's, traced lines down across the palms and gathered at the wrist before reversing the motion and ending up back at the tips. The contact was intense, Kirk felt for a moment like he consisted only of two disembodied hands. It made him feel a bit lost, because at this stage in life he was used to being the more experienced sex partner but right now he didn't know what to do. He was sweating all over and knew he was still filthy from the crash. Spock's skin was dry and his hair was neat, somehow. He had his eyes closed so Kirk could study his face. A glint caught his eye. It was... a drop... on Spock's lower lip. It was swelling, about to run down his cheek. He was DROOLING! That glimpse of the human side in Spock renewed Kirk's courage. Enough Vulcan stuff for now, he said he wanted to combine the two, right? If he wants it so bad his mouth is watering, then he's going to get it.

With this resolution, Kirk slid down the wall to a crouching position. Many nights had he tried to imagine what this vulcan-human hybrid would look like and his fantasy had come up with so many strange suggestions that reality could not shock him. Kirk closed his hands around the greenish organ, where the only other indication of an alien heritage was a disproportionally long head. No wider than the rest of the penis, but almost one quarter of the length. It fitted nicely in the mouth. When Kirk pulled his lips away, the loss of contact was so painful that Spock could not help thrusting his hips forward, which knocked Kirk's head against the wall. It wasn't a bad bump, but it still felt good when Spock gently put his hand on the back of Kirk's head to protect it. Shortly after, Kirk felt Spock's other hand on the left side of his face, hovering over the contact points.

"May I?"

"Yeah... do it." Spock touched the points and formed a loop of physical sensation through both of them. Kirk picked up the pace now that he was getting feedback straight from the source. Spock was leaning his forehead against the wall. For every lick Kirk made, he could feel how Spock reacted to it. It quickly taught him to get a lot rougher, more than he would have liked on himself, and once he had a steady rhythm going he could feel Spock getting close, and closer. Spock's neck curved forward and the wallboards buckled. He was overflowing both Kirk's mind and his mouth.

–***–

Kirk was sitting on the floor, still fully dressed except for the torn shirt. His pants were so tight it was hurting him, he had to unbutton NOW. God, I should have done that a lot sooner but there was never time. Spock was pulling his shirts off over his head and Kirk hurried to follow his lead. The boots were a pain to get off; the leather was still moist from seawater. Spock, now nude, lay face down on his own bed.

"Can we proceed to intercourse?" It was not a very romantic statement, but it went straight to Kirk's deepest spot because it showed that this was for certain the Spock he knew and longed to have.

"Do you have a lubricant or something?"

"There is a lotion there on the shelf. In the spray bottle." Spock pointed. Kirk made a long arm and grabbed the bottle. He sprayed some lotion in his hand. But since it's a spray bottle, why not take advantage of it? He used the fingers of his left hand to spread Spock's butt cheeks apart, aimed for the bull's eye and... no. He stopped himself from displaying his childish sense of humour. Laughter tried to force its way out of his mouth and he had to bite down to stop it. The wonder of the situation made Kirk feel inappropriately giddy. Not long ago they had been surrounded by the threat of death and now... he was about to fuck the man of his dreams. I don't think it's the right moment. He put the bottle down and used his fingers instead, slowly massaging up and down the crack and, eventually, inside. Spock made some low-pitched sounds into the pillow. Is this his first time with a man? Could be. But Vulcans are known to be tough, he can take it. Ready or not, here I come. Oh god, hot hot hot. How can a few degrees make such a difference? He didn't last long, not after a prelude like that. After all, he was only human.

–***–

"More."

"Sorry, what?"

"I need you more." Spock was spooning Kirk and had the head of his new erection between Kirk's sweat-soaked buttocks. His statement had an air of desperation to it that convinced Kirk that this was not merely a compliment.

"Uh, sure, I guess you can... whoa!" Within a second of being given permission, before Kirk could even finish the sentence, Spock was deep inside him. It took a long time before Spock, finally sated, could rest his head peacefully on Kirk's chest and listen to his heart valves. Kirk was asleep, exhausted, and Spock listened to the air rushing in and out of his lungs with every breath. It was just as sweet as he had imagined it.

–***–

Lily-Lee was wolfing down chicken wings and deep-fried zucchini slices and telling McCoy all that had happened. McCoy, having long since finished, was sitting across the table in his quarters with a second glass of Kentucky bourbon.

"And then, you know, I saw the rescue vehicle and we got on board. And it was surprising, because just as we were leaving, all those shellfish thingies started to mate. The water was white with their eggs and sperm."

"Then it was probably you who triggered them."

"Do you think so?" Lily-Lee pondered this and had another wing. "You may be right. We tossed the empty ones back into the water, and there must have been residue on them. Maybe the smell in the water got the rest started?"

"Sounds very likely."

"Hmm. Well, they were overdue anyway. I hope I didn't cause them any trouble."

"Oh, you hope so? Lemme tell you, if there is one thing that happens when you poke your fingers into something that's not your business, it's catalysis of overdue mating. You always cause trouble." McCoy finished his bourbon and looked at her angry face with a smile. Her anger didn't worry him a bit; he would have her smiling within one minute because he knew how. All it took was a dirty joke.

"Oh yeah? Well, mister, how about I poke my fingers in the one place you can't see them and you can kiss my hairy ass!"

"Well..." McCoy put his glass down on the table. "I was going to make a suggestion, but it sounds like you already have everything planned."

–***–

THE END

That was fun. See you someday, readers! If you never watched the video that is described in Spock's dream, look it up (Star Trek + Nine Inch Nails = Closer) and enjoy.