Relationship status: First time
Word count: 15,617
Warnings: Brutal hazing (verbal and physical), offensive language, species-ism.
Other Pairings: Kirk/Janice Lester
Additional Characters: Finnegan, Gary Mitchell, Carol Marcus.
Summary: An AU fic inspired by and extremely loosely based on the 1980s Harve Bennett proposal for a Star Trek TV series titled “The Academy Years”.
Notes: Originally published in March 2012 in the print fanzine Legends # 7. My thanks to Dovya Blacque for her excellent edit.
“Checkmate.” Kirk sat back in satisfaction, exulting in the look of consternation on Spock’s face, who was staring at the chessboard in complete disbelief. Spock looked like he was doing an instant replay of their game in his head. Kirk sat with a patient smile as he did so.
“Most illogical,” Spock said finally, a clear note of exasperation on his voice.
“Illogic has its merits.”
Kirk stretched and looked around Professor DeLeon’s office, where they were seated at a conference table. The remains of their lunch were shoved to one side of the table. Kirk had volunteered to assist Professor DeLeon in one of his projects for extra credit, and he was working closely with Spock on the specifications. “Break time’s almost over.” He took a sip of coffee. “But I think we can fit in one more game.” He looked inquiringly at Spock.
“I believe there is sufficient time.” Spock, of course, never needed to consult a chronometer.
There was no clumsy student nearby. They were quite alone in the office. He reached out for a rook, intending to reset the board. Spock reached for the same piece, an instant behind him. Long fingers caressed his closed hand and withdrew an inch or two. The same surge of heat jolted through him.
Speechless, he stared at Spock. That had to have been deliberate… hadn’t it? Spock stared back at him. Kirk felt caught in Spock’s intense gaze. He was almost certain there was a veiled invitation there. Without thinking, he reached over and covered Spock’s hand with his. Something softened in Spock’s gaze – and then heated.
He thought of Janice. He would never have imagined it would be so hard to make his touch into a brief caress, just like Spock’s, and then pull his hand away.
At the instant he did so, a sound distracted him. He turned and saw a female student – he recognized her as Amalie Pederson from class – staring at them with a peculiar expression on her face.
“May I help you?” He looked back at Spock, whose hands were neatly folded in his lap.
“Uh…” Her gaze flitted from one man to the other. “Professor DeLeon said to meet him here. I know I’m early.”
“He is due back in 14.5 minutes,” Spock said. He indicated a desk in the corner. “You may wait here, if you like.”
“OK. If you don’t mind.” She glanced from one man to the other again, and when Spock said nothing she seated herself at the desk.
Spock began putting away the chess set. As he did so, he began discussing the project he and Kirk were working on for Professor DeLeon, and Kirk followed his lead. It was easy enough to get back in the discussion, and by the time Professor Deleon arrived he had almost forgotten Amalie was there.
* * * * *
He and Spock were leaving their next work session with Professor DeLeon a couple of days later when they found Finnegan and his lackeys right outside the building.
Finnegan looked them up and down and snickered. “I always knew you were an alien lover, Kirk. I wonder what Vulcan dick looks like?” he said conversationally to his friends.
“Like limp celery?” Branson offered. They guffawed.
Kirk stepped closer, getting right into Finnegan’s face.
Finnegan smirked. “Ah ah ah, Jimmy-boy. Fancy medal and all, you’re still just a plebe, remember that.”
Kirk’s right hand clenched. He felt the touch of a long-fingered hand on his shoulder and shot a quick look in Spock’s direction. “Cadet Kirk, what he says is of no consequence.”
“How sweet. The green blood is concerned for you. Where do you get the time, Jimmyboy? What does Lester think about your friend?”
Kirk felt his muscles bunch. “Cadet Kirk,” Spock said again, tightening his grasp on Kirk’s shoulder.
“They’re just like robots, aren’t they? Why don’t you just go get a mechanical doll, plebe? Better than that.” He aimed a contemptuous glare at Spock. “We got stuck with your mother’s textbook in our linguistics class. I should put in a complaint. Your mother is an alien-loving whore.”
Spock’s fingers jerked spasmodically on Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk shook off Spock’s touch. “Screw regulations.”
It was pure pleasure smashing Finnegan’s face in, and doing the same to his two minions for good measure. Scrubbing out the Science Building’s lower floor by hand sucked, as did Janice’s fury over their ruined plans and her diatribe over his lack of consideration for her feelings. But what kept his mind occupied during the length of his menial chore was the expression he’d seen on Spock’s face after Kirk stepped back from the fight, all three of his opponents groaning on the ground. The iron control had dropped, and intense worry, concern, and, yes, caring, had shone from those brown eyes.
Spock had brushed his face with one hand, touching the blood dripping from his mouth. “You are injured,” he had said.
“It’s nothing,” he’d replied, and smiled through the sting of his smashed lip. They’d walked away from the scene without a backwards glance.
Speculation on what it all meant, from the heat that flared between them at the simple touch of their hands, to Spock’s question about ‘temporary mates’, to how to interpret the multiple meanings of Spock’s expressions, and the memory of the touch of that hand on his shoulder and the concern on his face - kept his mind occupied the entire time he spent kneeling and scrubbing, kneeling and scrubbing.
* * * * *
Zephram’s house band hit several thunderous chords and took their break. Kirk, Janice clinging tightly to his arm, headed back from the dance floor to their table. Just ahead of them, Carol dislodged Gary’s hand from her ass, and took her seat. The servobot delivered another pitcher of beer to their table, and they quickly refilled their glasses.
Kirk took a long draught. Janice, already drunk, downed a third of her glass in a nanosecond.
Mitchell leaned forward. “Did you hear the one about the Vulcan and the Andorian?”
Mitchell reached the punchline and Janice shrieked with laughter. She shot Kirk a malicious glare.
What the hell? Janice had been acting weird every since he’d met her outside the bar. He’d assumed it was because he hadn’t been able to see her for the last week due to his punishment and his classwork.
“I’ve got one!” Janice countered with a joke of her own, all about Vulcan genitalia, and Mitchell howled with laughter.
Carol sat back in her chair and folded her arms. Kirk had already heard Gary’s side of their latest argument.
“That attitude’s not going to get you far if you’re ever assigned to a first contact mission,” Kirk pointed out.
Gary and Janice stared at him. “Hey Jim, where’s your sense of humor?” Gary asked, and shoved the pitcher of beer toward him.
Janice took another long draught. “I plan to be a captain of a starship one of these days,” she proclaimed, her speech somewhat slurred.
Mitchell groaned. “You can be my first officer,” he said magnanimously.
“No,” Kirk interrupted. “I’ll be captain. You two figure out who’s going to be my first.”
“In your deluded dreams,” Mitchell treated them to a condescending smile. “I can fly rings around both of you any day.”
“It takes a lot more than that to be a good captain,” Kirk insisted. “There’s a big universe out there, filled with all kinds of people – and we can learn a lot from all of them.”
“Yes, like where the best dilithium fields are,” Janice offered, eyes gleaming as she contemplated the prospect. “Though the new sensor technology and satellite-based mining means we won’t have to do a lot of diplomacy – assuming anyone’s at home to protest. Besides, we can give them a few trinkets and they’ll be happy. Leave diplomacy to the losers in Xenolinguistics. They’ll like what we have to offer.”
“There’s more to the universe than dilithium,” Kirk said. “And we can’t count on humans being superior to any race we come across. Remember, the Vulcans made it to space before we did. We’ll get a lot better results approaching other people with respect.”
“Is that why you’re sucking up to that Vulcan?”
“I’m treating him with the respect that he deserves.”
“Well, aren’t you the sensitive hero.” Mitchell regarded him appraisingly. “Why are you sticking up your neck for him anyway? Vulcans don’t give a crap about us.”
“They act like we’re dirt anyway,” Janice chimed in.
“Not Spock,” Kirk said.
“Don’t you see the way he looks down that nose of his? He’s probably some kind of spy. Why is he in Starfleet anyway? They have their own ships. They don’t need to mix with us.” Janice looked at him challengingly.
Carol slid out of her chair. “Back in a minute,” she said, and disappeared into the crowd. Gary, thinking along similar lines, got up as well.
Janice fixed Kirk with a hard glare.
“Why are you spending so much time with that Vulcan anyway?”
“Is this about last weekend? I’ve already said I was sorry I couldn’t go with you to London. How about we could go the weekend after mid-terms. I need to finish that astrobiology assignment.”
“You’ve only told me that 20 times.”
“Janice,” Kirk said coldly, “What’s this about?”
Janice swallowed more beer. “Finnegan’s been saying a lot of trash about you and the Vulcan.”
“Finnegan’s an ass. And ‘the Vulcan’ has a name – he’s Spock.”
She slammed her glass down, spilling beer. “Just my point exactly!”
“What the hell are we talking about?”
“Him! That Vulcan! Why are you hanging around with him anyway? You said you had to do that extra work for Professor DeLeon, but Ginevra told me that Amalie told her that you were playing chess with the Vulcan in his office and that you looked very very friendly.” She spit the last word, her eyes full of fire.
“Spock’s his TA. We needed a break.”
“What could you possibly have to say to him? He was so boring when we all went on that boat trip last fall.”
Kirk barely glanced at Gary as he settled back into his seat and picked up his beer. “He’s interesting,” Kirk said. “He knows a lot about ships. Do you know he already knows how to fly a F-3100? I’d kill to fly one of those babies. We’ll be taking Ms. Gardner’s class in piloting together next semester.
“Ah, Ruth. That is one hot woman,” Gary said admiringly.
Kirk privately agreed with Gary, but he knew better than to say so. Janice shot him a murderous look anyway.
“You still talking about Spock?” Gary asked, just as Carol rejoined them. “Well you gotta admit, Jim, he is a smartass, loves to show off everything he knows in class, but if he can handle a F-3100…” Gary whistled in admiration.
Music blared again. Janice grabbed Kirk’s arm and levered herself to her feet. “Let’s dance.”
He shook her off, suddenly repulsed at the sight of her. “I’m going home. The Astrophysics exam is tomorrow.”
“You’ll ace it anyway. You’ve spent half this week on your padd.”
She leaped to her feet, glaring up at him.
“I know something you don’t,” she said in a singsong, nasty voice.
“Finnegan was talking with his friends. They said they were going to get the Vulcan.”
Alarmed, Kirk asked, “Did they say what they were planning to do.”
She shrugged, smiled, and fixed him with a jealous glare. “They said behind the baseball field. Tonight.”
He shot to his feet and headed to the door. The crowd drowned out the noise of Janice screaming his name.
* * * * *
Bright security lights illuminated the deserted baseball field. Kirk raced through it, toward the wooded area climbing up the hill behind the Academy grounds. Breath loud in his ears, he stopped, scrutinizing the pathway and the surrounding trees, trying to see into nearly impenetrable blackness. He listened intently for any sound.
“Finnegan!” he shouted. “If you’re here, come out. We need to talk.”
“Spock!” he shouted.
No response. A breeze briefly rustled leaves and died again.
Standing still, he realized he’d forgotten his jacket, and the chill and the damp quickly penetrated his thin shirt. Maybe Janice was lying just to get a rise out of him. Maybe Spock wasn’t out here. Maybe…
Nothing. No sound. Blackness surrounded him. Thin moonlight illuminated a bit of the path before him, and then it rounded a curve and disappeared into further darkness. No one was there. And yet…
Yet something was.
Kirk strained, listening for even the slightest hint of sound. Nothing. And yet he suddenly knew where to go.
Wishing he had a flashlight – anything – he cut away from the path and onto the uneven forest ground. He picked his way carefully. Deceptive glints of moonlight penetrated at odd places, illuminating bits of branches, gnarled roots thrusting up through the earth.
Over there. A small clearing. Something.
A darker shape, pressed against a tree.
No. Lashed to a tree.
Adrenalin pumping, he crossed the remaining ground in two strides,
Thick rope bound Spock tightly to the tree. His head lolled over his chest. The side of his face Kirk could see was black with blood.
Kirk, heart jolting, reached for Spock’s neck. Did Vulcans have a pulse like humans? The answer was immediately apparent – a rapid thrum pounded beneath fever-hot skin. “Spock?” he whispered. Then louder, “Spock!”
No response, but he could not hear the sound of Spock breathing. Kirk reached for his communicator. “Emergency services.”
“We have your position,” a female responder replied. “What is the emergency?”
“A cadet has been beaten, bound to a tree.”
“On our way.”
Kirk pressed on hand against Spock’s arm. “Spock, if you can hear me, help is on the way.”
He felt a shudder go through the other man, heard a deep intake of breath. Spock attempted to lift his head and mumbled something harsh in Vulcan.
“It’s me, Jim Kirk. I found you. Don’t try to move. You’ve been beaten and tied to a tree. Help is on the way.”
The moonlight showed a gleam of eye. A ragged breath, another. And then, barely audible. “Jim…?”
“Yes. Jim Kirk. Help is on the way.”
“They…” Spock paused to swallow.
“Was it Finnegan?”
“And Morris and Branson?”
Spock shifted his weight slightly, and let out a tiny gasp. Spock’s hands were tied behind the tree. Kirk found one of his hands, laid his own over it. At his touch Spock let out a long shuddering sigh. “They’ll be here soon.”
It seemed like forever before two figures sparkled into view. An instant after the transporter effect ended they were at Spock’s side, scanners working. One of them barked into her communicator, the other continued scanning.
“Alien,” the man with the scanner said to the woman.
“Vulcan,” Kirk said.
“Acknowledged,” she said, and spoke into the communicator again.
“How is he?” Kirk asked.
The man looked up from his scanner. “I don’t understand his readings. We’ll transport him to the Vulcan Embassy.”
Shimmer and sound, and two more people transported in, along with an antigrav stretcher.
Feeling helpless, Kirk watched as two people supported Spock while another cut him free from the tree. They gently placed Spock on the stretcher.
One more communication, and three of them and the stretcher vanished from view.
“Come with me,” the remaining responder said. “We’ll need your report.”
* * * * *
Thirteen messages arrived from Janice that night. He deleted them all. Then he sent one of his own, short and succinct: “It’s over between us.”
* * * * *
He was at the Vulcan Consulate - a large, featureless, sand colored building located just north of Golden Gate Park - the moment the facility opened to the public the next morning.
Kirk entered through the unobtrusive security sensors. Inside, the building was suffused with a reddish-tinged light. Kirk blinked his eyes, adapting, breathing in a subtle scent which reminded Kirk of the smell of desert plants in the Sonoran desert.
He walked over to a large desk which looked like it had been made from a giant slab of obsidian. It gleamed darkly under the reddish light.
A stern-faced Vulcan woman, hair cut in the same severe style Spock wore but bearing traces of silver, stood behind the desk. “What is the nature of your business?” Her voice was as expressionless as that of a servobot, but it held the faintest trace of an accent.
“An acquaintance – “ he remembered in time not to use the word ‘friend’ – “was assaulted and injured on the Starfleet Academy campus last night. I would like to find out his condition.”
She contemplated him. Not the slightest trace of any kind of emotion marred her face. “You refer to S'chn T'gai Spock. His condition is stable.”
A wave of relief flooded him. “May I see him.”
“You may not,” she said. “He is not conscious.”
“May I visit him when he is?”
“When he awakens and is able he will be free to return to his customary pursuits. Until then he will remain in isolation. No visitors will be permitted at any time.”
“May I leave him a message then?”
The look she gave him made him feeling like an object under a microscope. “You may do so.” She gave him the comm code, which he took. He commed Spock a message as soon as he was back out on the street, then headed to Starfleet Headquarters. It was time to see if his Palm Leaf medal meant more than just a pretty ceremony. Once inside, he asked the receptionist if Admiral Richard Barnett was available. No, he didn’t have an appointment. Yes, it was important. It might impact diplomatic relations between Earth and Vulcan.
Admiral Barnett was in, and only kept him waiting three hours. By that time he had everything he intended to say thoroughly rehearsed.
* * * * *
He heard nothing from Spock for the next ten very busy days, days spent talking with Academy officials, police officials, and one granite-faced Vulcan Embassy representative. And the media. He did dozens of interviews, turned down hundreds more. Through it all there was a constant undercurrent of concern – of fear – for Spock. He heard nothing, though the Vulcan representative assured him that Spock’s recovery was proceeding as anticipated.
There was also an explosive screaming match with Janice. He’d blocked her comm messages, so she’d routed around his security screens and sent him dozens more, all of which he deleted. She caught up with him after his Astrophysics class and they’d had it out in the plaza in front of dozens of interested bystanders.
He never heard the details of her final interview with an Academy higher-up, but after she went on an on-camera rant with a representative of the local media, he heard that she decided to quit before she was expelled.
When Kirk walked into Professor DeLeon’s course ten days later he stopped. Spock was in his customary place at the front of the room, and as soon as Kirk entered he met his gaze.
Kirk smiled, and Spock responded with a softening of his expression.
Kirk usually was completely absorbed by Professor DeLeon’s lessons, but found he couldn’t concentrate. Class time dragged until it was time to leave, and then he was instantly on his feet and by Spock’s side as they walked out into the plaza. Their presence immediately drew the attention of everyone passing by, but Kirk was grateful when no one stopped to talk. He indicated a bench by the fountain. As they walked over to it and sat down Kirk noticed that Spock looked quite pale, and was even more thin than he ordinarily was.
“How are you feeling?”
“I am recovered.”
“I tried to visit you, but they said you were unconscious and could not be disturbed.”
“Vulcan healing techniques require privacy.”
“You heard that Finnegan, Branson and Morris were expelled.”
“They should have been brought up on assault charges.”
“The matter was discussed, however it was decided not to request such an action.”
“Finnegan’s father was all over the news.”
“He is on the Terran planetary council,” Spock pointed out in an expressionless voice.
“Politics! It’s not right.” Kirk tried to hide the sheer anger filling him at the injustice.
“I understand the incident created quite a controversy in your news media.”
Incident! You could have died… “That it did. Vidreporters were crawling all over campus, and it seems everyone on the planet has been posting their opinion.” He didn’t bother to add that much of that opinion had been of the virulent anti-alien bigotry that still infected so many minds.
“I saw your vidcast interviews and understand that you were successful in having the Academy implement new rules about the practice of ‘hazing’.”
“Traditions can be changed.”
“It takes a unique individual to effect such a change.”
“It was past time for this change.
They were silent for a moment. Spock’s gaze seemed focused inward; Kirk was content to just be in his company.
Spock met his gaze again. “I wish to say thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” Kirk said warmly. “You know, spring break’s coming up.”
“I am aware of it.”
“Are you going to visit your uncle again?”
“Negative. He has taken his family offworld to a conference on Alpha Centauri and they will not return until April 23.”
“Have you ever been to Yosemite?”
“Would you like to see it? It’s astonishingly beautiful, and I’ve been wanting to climb El Capitan.”
“Who will be accompanying us?”
“I wasn’t planning to ask anyone else.” He gave Spock his best smile, and moved one hand to rest on the bench exactly between them.
Spock looked down at Kirk’s hand, and then back at Kirk’s face. Kirk gave him an encouraging smile.
Spock inched his hand over until his fingers brushed against Kirk’s. Electricity sang between them. The smallest of smiles touched his lips. “I would be most pleased to accompany you.”
* * * * *
A twig snapped in the fire and sparks flew up in the air, then winked out one by one. Kirk felt pleasantly tired. They’d set up camp in a campground near the restored Hetch Hetchy Valley and then they’d taken a long hike. They’d come back to the campgrounds early as Kirk planned to tackle El Capitan in Yosemite Valley the next morning.
He sat with Spock in a companionable silence, having finished a wide ranging discussion on everything from the repercussions of the change in Academy policy to Ruth Gardner’s piloting class next summer.
Tired or not, he was very aware of the man sitting next to him. Spock was contemplating the fire, and the flickering light cast interesting shadows on the alien face. Spock turned to meet his gaze and their eyes held.
Kirk had been turning over various approaches in his mind. He knew how to approach women. He knew how to approach men. He didn’t have a clue how to approach a Vulcan. He remembered the jolt of sexual heat that had blazed through him at the touch of their hands, and that decided him.
He smiled and moved his hand a bit closer to Spock’s hand, until their fingers were almost touching. “I may be wrong, but I think you know I’m interested in you.”
Spock glanced at their hands, then looked back at Kirk’s face. “I believe I understand your meaning, but as with many other human words and phrases in Standard, what you said can be interpreted in multiple ways.”
“I am interested in you in multiple ways. As a friend…” He was encouraged by Spock’s slight nod. “As someone who excels at everything. And…” Spock gave him an encouraging look. “…a potential lover.”
“A temporary mate?” Spock asked.
Interest flared in Spock’s eyes. He again glanced down at their hands. Only the tiniest of spaces separated them. He met Kirk’s gaze again. “I am… curious. You are no longer in a temporary arrangement with Ms. Lester.”
It was not a question, but Kirk answered it anyway. “No. I’m not.”
“I wish to understand how Humans choose temporary mates. It is done for the purposes of mating – but how do you make the choice?”
Curiosity flared in Kirk about how Vulcans made their choice – but he decided against answering a question with a question. “Mutual attraction,” Kirk said. “Mutual interests. And… it’s not always just for the purpose of, um, mating. There are some people you want to be with more than you want to be with anyone else. There are some things that make one person special – that person stands out in ways others don’t. And then you want them in all ways.”
Behind the stillness of his face, Spock’s gaze was electric. “Humans consider many questions appropriate that cannot be asked on Vulcan. I do not wish to invade your privacy. ”
“Ask away.” Kirk smiled encouragingly.
Spock swallowed. “Ms. Lester – how was the choice made?”
Kirk considered how to phrase this without making himself sound like a jerk. “With Janice – yes, a lot of it was the sex. She was the most exciting woman I have ever met.” Spock was watching him intently, not looking away for a second. “And she was smart, and she was willing to try all kinds of things. But the longer I knew her, the harder it was to stay with her. She hated the fact I was chosen for the Axanar mission and she wasn’t. Her envy was eating her alive. Even knowing that, I hadn’t realized what she was capable of. Until I found out she knew what Finnegan was planning to do to you. And she let it happen, and didn’t tell anyone. I could never forgive her for that.”
There was silence for a moment. Spock glanced down at their hands again. “You say you are interested in me as a temporary mate. A potential lover,” he added, his voice catching on the human term.
“If you’re interested. If not, I would be happy and proud to continue being your friend.”
Spock brushed his fingertips against Kirk’s, and that same sexual heat flared in Kirk like lightning. “You are an agreeable companion, James Kirk. I have wished to experience this… with you.”
Acting on instinct, Kirk placed his hand over Spock’s.
Spock took a quick intake of breath, and turned his hand, using two fingers to brush against Kirk’s hands, lingering at the tips of his fingers.
Sexual heat ignited in Kirk, flaring in every part of his body, strange and almost frightening in its alien intensity. Excited beyond thought at the magnitude of what he was experiencing, he moved over to Spock, encircling him with his arms. He pressed his mouth against Spock’s. Long fingers came up, caressed the sides of his face, then strong arms pulled him close. He found himself on top, exploring Spock’s mouth, which opened hesitantly to his. He devoured Spock’s mouth for long instants, then was rewarded when the hot alien tongue entered and explored his mouth.
He pulled away, a slight measure of sanity returning. “Tent,” he gasped, and they crawled inside.
A glow-bar at ground level provided dim light. Kirk spread their sleeping bags open and turned back to Spock. The light glittered in the alien eyes, which raked Kirk with fierce need.
Confident now, discarding all thought of a careful, gentle approach, Kirk brought their bodies together, their mouths meeting, all hesitancy on Spock’s part gone.
Feeling Spock’s rock-hard erection matching his own through the separate layers of their clothing, he reached for the fly of Spock’s jeans. “Shall we get rid of the clothing?”
“Only what is necessary.” Spock had his own boots, jeans and underwear off almost as quickly as Kirk had disposed of his own clothing.
Kirk eyed Spock’s erection, as large as his own and human in appearance. He reached to touch it. Spock gasped and threw his head back. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, stroking the cock from root to tip.
“Whatever you like,” Spock managed, then cried out when Kirk pressed his lips to the tip and licked gently. Spock’s hips jerked and Kirk opened his mouth wider, taking in the needy cock in slow motion. His own erection demanded attention, but he ignored it, enjoying the tiny sounds Spock made and the way the hot large hands were grasping his shoulders. He began sucking strongly, and the long fingers dug in, bruisingly deep. His own cock jerked, desperate. He used tongue and lips in the way he liked best, and suddenly Spock was there, at the peak, flooding his mouth with hot thick liquid. He swallowed it all, gently licking for a moment, and then pulled back. Spock’s eyes had a soft distant amazed quality; Kirk reveled in the sight.
Spock’s gaze refocused directly on Kirk’s erection, and a gentle hand moved Kirk over. Spock bent over him and found Kirk’s cock with his hotter-than-Human mouth. Kirk groaned at the lightning pleasure shooting through his body. Thought was impossible; he gave himself up to the sensations, and all too soon found himself erupting in a shattering orgasm.
He was dimly aware that Spock was trailing his fingers along his nearest shoulder and arm. He laced his fingers through Spock’s. His heart rate recovering, his breath returning to normal, he fumbled around with his unoccupied hand for the extra thermal blanket and tugged it over them. Spock was still holding one of his hands, and in the dim light he could see Spock watching him.
He grinned, and Spock offered the tiniest of smiles back.
“Are there traditions and rules in being a temporary mate?” Spock asked, his voice as deep as Kirk had ever heard it.
Kirk rolled over to face him. “The rules are whatever we want them to be. Do you want there to be any rules?”
Spock contemplated that for a minute. “Every aspect of Vulcan life is guided by tradition,” he replied. “I would like to try the Human way. With you.”
Kirk rested one arm across the Vulcan’s waist and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Then let’s just go exploring each other…”
Spock’s arm settled around his waist. Kirk pulled the blanket tight around then and began settling into sleep, ideas on just what they could explore the next day filling his mind. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to be doing much mountain climbing…