Title: The Unreal City
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, Kirk/OMC
Genre: slash, adventure
Rating: NC-17 for this part
Warnings: This is the part with the Kirk/OMC pairing - might be read as non-con/dub con
Summary: When the landing party gets lost in the fog of a hostile planet, Kirk and Spock are struggling to get back together in many respects. Contains sea-monsters, mythological allusions, a space version of Venice and epic angst - see for yourself.
A/N: Story is set mid-season 2 with references to Amok Time and Who mourns for Adonais. Also many thanks to my lovely beta Shiny! - I'm really sorry it took me so long to post part 3, I hope I'll manage to get done with the other chapters during the next days.
Sneaking into the Liberator’s palace was easier than expected. It just took a neglected door, two inattentive guards, a minor distraction and a few well-aimed kicks and Kirk was standing inside the palazzo.
There were none of the playful ornaments inside which had covered the façade of the palace, but plain whitewashed walls sparsely decorated with tall columns. Moreover, the two rooms Kirk had crossed so far had been devoid of furniture and people. Very strange – looks as if these parts of the palace have never been finished.
Carefully, Kirk advanced into the next room. This one looked different. For one thing, it was definitively lived in, as it had been equipped with plenty of furniture and a table in a corner featured a bottle of wine and several empty glasses. Moreover, the walls had been painted: Large figures in black, a dramatic hunting scene with riders and feline predators. Next to the paintings a statue of a large bull was positioned in the center of the room – to Kirk all these works looked suspiciously Terran. Yes, this was the style of the ancient Greeks, back on Earth. He shivered – after the events on Pollux IV, these pictures evoked bad memories.
Frowning, he headed on. Then he stopped dead on the doorstep – there was a forest in the neighboring room. Rubbing his eyes Kirk looked again – still, the room before him was filled with greenery. Eventually he recognized that it was not an actual forest, but a gigantic ensemble of potted plants, which someone had arranged around wooden columns, fashioned into the form of tall leafless trees. Curiouser and curiouser, Kirk thought as he traversed the ‘forest’. And where is everybody? The city was full of people and there were guards outside – so why is the palace empty?
He was close to the door of the forest-chamber when he heard the music. It was faint, but clearly recognizable as the muffled sound of pipes and drums. He wasn’t sure whether he should be glad about this sign of life – the frantic beat of the drums was unnerving and there was still nobody in sight.
The next door was halfway hidden under tendrils of vine and ivy. Heavy grapes hung from the branches and Kirk noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything since he had left the ship in the early afternoon. But even though he was tempted to pick some grapes he knew better than to eat strange fruit on an alien planet. With a sigh and a last longing look he pushed the vines away and went through the door.
The adjoining room was heavily decorated with gold and blue mosaics and right in the middle of it was a huge throne.
“I am surprised it took you so long.”
Kirk turned around, but there was no one to be seen. Once he faced the room again, there he was, a dark-haired man, standing right in front of him with a smug smile on his lips.
“Who are you?” asked Kirk.
The stranger smiled again – his eyes were not dark, as it seemed common with the Thalassians, but of a disturbingly bright golden color. His tanned skin was only partly covered by a light silken tunic and he wore a cloak made from what appeared to be leopard skin wrapped around his shoulders. “Don’t tell me you don’t know me already,” he said. “I am the one you have come to see. I am the Liberator.”
“The Liberator,” Kirk repeated slowly. Although he was hardly surprised, he had a strange feeling about this encounter; the other man’s smile didn’t bode well.
“Eleutherios – the Liberator, that’s one of my names. The people here seem to like it, even though I have never liberated them from anything.”
He had come closer and was now standing at arm’s length from Kirk. His strange golden eyes were sparkling, the situation seemed to amuse him immensely. Angry irritation rose in Kirk’s throat, but he forced himself to stay calm. Let him talk, don’t say anything. The more information he gives me willingly, the better!
“Eleutherios?” he finally asked, “I have never heard of that name.”
“It is one among many,” the Liberator said. “Back in the old days they also called me Bromios – the thunderer, and Dendrites – him of the trees. I am also Lyaeus – he who unties and Oeneus – he of the wine press.”
All those strange names – and the wall paintings in the previous rooms - suddenly Kirk had a terrible idea where this was going.
“I am the son of Zeus and Demeter,” the Liberator continued. “I am the giver of unmixed wine, the goat killer who was twice born by two mothers. I am Bacchus Adonaeus, the god of wine and song. I have many names, but there is one most mortals knew me under – I am Dionysus!”
* * *
McCoy ordered Guido to sit down as soon as they had arrived at the Bellinis’ house.
“But I’m fine. I’ve been able to walk.”
“Of course. But I won’t let you run around this place until I’ve checked up on you properly, so hold still until I’m done!”
Fortunately, Guido Bellini was a sensible young man and kept perfectly still, as McCoy rummaged in his bag for a scanner.
“What is this?” Bellini asked when McCoy switched on the scanner and moved it across his patient’s forehead and temples.
“It helps me find out whether your brain is injured.”
Bellini frowned. “I have never seen a thing like this”
“Well…” Oh, to hell with the Prime Directive! Nevertheless, he searched his head for an explanation. “It’s… um… a device we’ve invented in the north, I’m sure most people in La Città haven’t heard of it.”
Thankfully Bellini didn’t inquire any further and McCoy was able to finish his scan. “Good news,” he said when he was done. “No fractures, no brain damage, not even a concussion. After a day’s rest you should be as good as new.”
McCoy was quite glad that he didn’t have to use the hyposprays, which would only have led to further awkward questions. “He’s fine,” he said into Spock’s direction, who was sitting at the table, quietly talking to Bellini’s sister.
The Vulcan nodded in approval. “Very good. While you have been tending your patient I have been talking to Miss Bellini. She provided me with in-depth information about the city – and offered us dinner.”
“Now that’s good news for a change,” McCoy smiled as he joined them at the table.
After a simple meal of bread, fish and some kind of salad, which proceeded without much talk, they pushed back their plates and braced themselves for the inevitable questions. But they were lucky as the Bellinis accepted their improvised explanation, which was still nothing more elaborate than: “We are travelers from the northern hemisphere (“from a city known as La Terra,” as Spock remarked in an unexpected bout of creativity) and got lost in the fog upon arrival. We also lost track of our friend”
“We were attacked by a creature in the sea when we tried to cross the bridge towards La Città,” McCoy added to distract further from the question about their origin.
“Oh, that must have been a maenad,” Julia Bellini said. “They are guarding the waters around the city and sometimes they get a bit … agitated.”
“Agitated? The thing dragged me across the rocks and was inches away from drowning me!”
Julia shook her head. “I’ve never heard of a maenad killing a man. It would have let go of you after it dragged you away from the city gates.”
“Well, I’m quite glad I haven’t had a chance to test that!”
“Doctor McCoy?” This was Spock’s calm voice. “Speaking of the creature’s attack on you – have you taken the time to tend your own injuries?”
“They’re not injuries, just scratches.” But despite his words, McCoy’s ribs and his strained ankle were still hurting, especially now that he was once again paying attention.
“Nevertheless, you should attend to them,” Spock said firmly. “It is illogical to ignore wounds, which might render you incapacitated in case of an emergency.” This meant ‘I’m worried about you’ in Spock-speak.
“Alright, alright, I’ll see what I can do.” Under Spock’s scrutinizing gaze, McCoy set down to work. Only after his ankle was bandaged, the bruises on his ribs checked, and an antiseptic had been applied to the abrasions on his hands and knees, the Vulcan left him in peace.
“It’s late already,” Guido Bellini said eventually. “My sister and will be going to sleep any minute. We owe you at least a bed for the night, so we’ll prepare beds in the spare room for you.”
They hurried away while McCoy cleared away his medical supplies. Spock was standing in a corner, hands folded behind his back, deeply lost in thoughts.
He didn’t say a word until the Bellinis were off to bed and he and McCoy settled on their improvised beds in a tiny room between the kitchen and living room. While McCoy yawned and tried to make himself comfortable between the thin woolen blanket and the straw mattress, the Vulcan was lying straight on his back staring towards the ceiling without motion. Finally, after McCoy had blown out the candle, he spoke under the cover of darkness.
“Do you think the captain is still alive?” His voice was muffled, strange.
Oh my god, he really is afraid! McCoy tried to sound as reassuring as possible when he answered. “I’m sure he is. You know Jim, he’s a suvivor. I’m sure he’ll show up tomorrow just fine!”
There was no reply from Spock’s side. McCoy waited and when the Vulcan didn’t speak up again for several minutes, he slowly relaxed, overwhelmed by tiredness – it had been an exhausting day and he wasn’t getting any younger. Just when he was drifting off to sleep, he heard Spock’s voice again.
He never called him Leonard. In an instant McCoy was completely awake. “What’s the matter, Spock, what’s wrong?”
The Vulcan’s voice was barely audible. “I have to ask you something.”
“Yes?” McCoy kept his voice as soft as possible. Spock was not himself, and he had no idea where this was leading.
“After the … events on Vulcan, did you notice any changes in… any changes concerning me and the captain?”
So he’s still not over it. The pon-farr is haunting him and now he’s feeling guilty, because we lost Jim. “Spock, you don’t have to…”
“Please. Tell me – did you notice anything? Concerning my behavior? Or… the captain’s behavior?”
This was strange. But it might be just Spock’s way of coping in the way he could best, by scientific analysis.
“Well, according to my observations, you and the Captain seem to get along as well as you did before. You know Jim as well as I do and I’m sure that you’ve realized that there are no bad feelings on his part. We all know that nothing of what has happened was your fault.”
Spock was silent again, but now McCoy’s interest had been peaked. Replaying the last two months in his head, he tried to focus on what had been going on between Spock and Kirk. For example, after the first euphoric moments of their post-pon farr reunion there had been a strange disenchantment. During the first few days when the Enterprise and her crew performed their task at Altair VI, the two men had been avoiding each other, only talking when necessary. And still, McCoy had caught them exchanging strange glances across the bridge. Back then had blamed it all on the emotional strain they had suffered. And soon enough, things had returned to normal as the captain and his first officer resumed their friendship as if the pon-farr and the kal-if-fee had never happened.
But now that he was thinking about it, McCoy noticed subtle changes. Jim had seemed more... affectionate towards Spock (the captain had always been someone who liked to touch, but now it seemed that he had barely left out a chance to put his hand on Spock’s arm or shoulder), while the Vulcan had become even more remote and taciturn towards everybody, with the exception of Jim.
Something has drawn them closer together, something that must have happened during the ritual or afterwards. And whatever it is, Spock is mortally embarrassed that anyone might notice.
“Spock?” he whispered “You really don’t need to worry, everything is alright, I...”
But there was no answer, only soft snoring – the Vulcan was fast asleep.
* * *
“So you really are Dionysus? The Greek god Dionysus?” Kirk was still very skeptical.
They were sitting in one of the palace’s smaller rooms, drinking wine out of old-fashioned goblets a silent servant had brought in some minutes ago.
“Indeed I am,” answered the ‘god’. “And you are Captain James T. Kirk.”
Kirk had to do his best to conceal his surprise. “How do you know my name?” he had to ask nevertheless.
“My brother told me, before he passed away.”
“Your brother?” Suddenly, everything fell into place. The being we encountered on Pollux IV – Apollo - he claimed to be a Greek god as well – of course he’s his brother. Damn, he must have managed to tell his sibling who has killed him!
Dionysus seemed to be reading his thoughts. “Don’t worry, I won’t take my vengeance on you, Captain. I’m not as foolish as my brother was. I don’t aim to oppress my worshippers. I have learnt long ago that this only leads to rebellion. And in my family, rebellion has always been the beginning of the end. No, I have arranged myself with them – look outside, look at my city, isn’t she a thing of beauty?”
He pointed towards the window, which offered an impressive view of the towers and domes of La Città with the blue-green sea glittering in the distance whenever the fog was lifted by an occasional gust of air.
“I’ve already wondered about the Terran influence,” Kirk said. “So it was you, who brought it here. But why Venice? Wouldn’t Athens be more appropriate?”
Dionysus sighed and slowly shook his head. When he spoke now, he was barely paying attention to his visitor. “Athens… it’s been millennia, since I have reigned in Greece. Sometimes I barely remember the glory of the Parthenon’s white columns and the shadow of the olive groves…”
Eventually his eyes regained focus, but his voice hadn’t lost its wistful undertone. “After the Galilean God took over the Mediterranean and our family lost its power, I fled into the swamps of upper Italy. was the last one to leave Earth, Zeus Hera, Apollo, they all fled, but I was holding out. I did not seek power and thus I watched in silence as the little settlement in the lagoon began to grow, as the fishermen and traders gained their own power – I did not interfere, I only… supported them from the background and they never noticed.”
He stood up, walking slowly towards the window as he went on. “I saw the rise of the Doges, watched the city become the queen of the Mediterranean, saw her strip Byzantium of her ancient glory and transform herself into La Serenissima. As I had fallen in love with the city, I made her revel in the Carnivale – and I was heartbroken when I had to witness her decline. But I held out, I held out until the Corse arrived and dethroned the last of the Doges. This was when I couldn’t stand it anymore – I fled into space like my brothers and sisters had done before me.”
“And once you arrived on Thalassus, you reconstructed your own version of Venice?” asked Kirk.
Dionysus turned around to look at him. “Not really. The city existed before I arrived, five centuries ago. I just helped her to develop and added my own… aesthetical suggestions. She turned out rather nicely, don’t you think?”
“Well… yes of course.” Kirk still wasn’t sure what to think of this man and his story. “But you do rule the city, don’t you?” he inquired.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I represent the city like the Doge did in ancient Venice, back on Earth. But the true power lies with the city council, which consists of Thalassians.” Once again Dionysus gestured towards the window.
“I understand,” said Kirk. “But there is one thing that still puzzles me. You say you are a god – but still you’re content to subordinate your power to human customs. You really are very different from your brother.”
“As I said, I tried to avoid Apollo’s mistakes. He chose an empty planet and ended up in dire need of worshippers, which eventually led to his end. I, however, settled on a planet full of life and made myself a part of La Città. When the Thalassians worship their city, when they worship the sea, they are worshipping me. Besides, I never felt much need for leadership and strict hierarchies. I prefer the bodily joys, the chaos of drunken revelry.”
That’s all very well, but what does he want from me? “If I may interrupt you, …Dionysus. Why are you telling me all this?”
Dionysus backed away from the window and smiled. “As soon as I heard about you roaming the streets of the city, I was curious. And when I heard your name…”
“You heard my name?”
“Well, you haven’t been very subtle.”
Kirk remembered the merchants he had been talking to on St. Mark’s square and silently cursed himself. How could I have been so stupid?
“So I knew that a stranger was present in the city,” Dionysus continued. “And when I realized that you were of alien origin and moreover, meant to pay me a visit, I decided to wait for you here. And I think now it’s time for me to ask you a question.” He stepped closer until he was standing at an arm’s length from Kirk. “What do you want from me?” he whispered.
Kirk hesitated. Should I tell him the truth? If Dionysus didn’t know where Spock and McCoy were, he wouldn’t be able to hurt them – and if he knew their whereabouts and meant them any harm he probably had already taken action.
“I’m looking for my two fellow officers,” he said. “We got separated when we arrived. I think they got lost in the fog, somewhere near the shore.”
“I see.” Dionysus’ face was unreadable. “Well, I’m afraid I have no idea where they are. They might have headed another way and not come to La Città at all.”
If they are still alive… Worry was clenching Kirk’s heart as he thought of Spock. To calm down a bit he took a gulp from the goblet, which, until now, had remained untouched in his hands. He was quite sure the wine wasn’t poisoned, he had witnessed Dionysus’ servant filling both goblets from the same jug and the ‘god’ himself, who had sat down on the chair opposite of Kirk, had already emptied his.
The wine was rich and sweet and went to Kirk’s head faster than expected. The taste exploded on his tongue, a spicy note he had never experienced before and sudden warmth spread throughout his body. This was a bad idea... Kirk wanted to put his goblet aside but Dionysus leant forward and took hold of his hand.
“Don’t,” he said. “There’s no need to be afraid. My wine has never poisoned anyone. Stop worrying and enjoy your drink!”
“It’s not that I’m afraid of poison, I just can’t afford to lose more time.” said Kirk and struggled to stand. “I have to find my friends!” When he finally got on his feet, the world was already spinning. Dionysus laughter filled his ears.
“Oh Captain, you are drunk already. Haven’t I told you who I am? My wine got hold of you, the very second the first drop touched your lips!”
Coming to the palace was a mistake; I have to get out of here! Still swaying, Kirk tried to head for the door, but Dionysus overtook him easily and took hold of his upper arms. His strength far exceeded human and Vulcan standards; there was no chance to escape.
“Sit down,” Dionysus pushed Kirk backwards until he sunk back into his chair, unable to offer resistance. Dionysus himself did not sit down, but walked around the chair placing his hands on Kirk’s shoulders.
“There’s no use to run away,” he said softly as he bent down, his mouth close to Kirk’s ear. “You won’t get anywhere so running off will only make me angry – I’m sure you don’t want to risk that.”
Kirk turned his head. “You’re no better than your brother,” he hissed as he caught a glimpse of Dionysus’ yellow eyes. “With your threats and your manipulations – if you go on like this it’s only a matter of time until someone finishes you off! You do remember what we did to Apollo, don’t you?”
Dionysus lowered his head and Kirk could feel his smile against his neck. “Of course I do. But I like you, Captain Kirk. I don’t plan to imprison you. As I told you, I am not like my brother.”
“What do you want from me then? Why don’t you let me go?” The words escaped Kirk’s lips although he already knew the answer.
Dionysus’ hands left Kirk’s shoulders, stroking his chest through his uniform tunic. “Stay,” he murmured, his breath hot against Kirk’s skin, “Just for one night. We can talk in the morning.”
Just for one night… It’s probably insane to agree to this! But the wine ran hot and strong in Kirk’s blood and Dionysus’ fingers sent sparks across his skin - his rational judgment was rapidly becoming clouded. I’d be basically selling my body to him, the rational part of his mind insisted, besides, he’s been drugging me; this wine contains at least an aphrodisiac. I must resist… Nevertheless he could feel hardness rising between his legs and it was getting more difficult by the minute to ignore Dionysus’ caresses. Spock! Kirk forced himself to visualize the Vulcan’s handsome features, dark eyes filled with silent reproach. What would Spock say if he knew… But he was unable to bring himself to end that thought.
And there was this irrational part of him that craved for the other man’s touch. It had been quite a while since he last had sex and the wine and whatever Dionysus’ had put inside made him hornier than he had been in months. It’s only physical, Kirk told himself. It’s not like I haven’t done this before – sleeping with an alien entity, male or female, to ensure the safety of his crew was basically part of the job description as a starship captain – well maybe not for every starship captain, but it certainly was when you were James T. Kirk.
“Still brooding?” Dionysus voice was a low purr, followed by a slick hot tongue, tracing the shell of Kirk’s ear. This time, Kirk was unable to suppress a moan. He heard Dionysus’ satisfied chuckle. “I think you’ve made a decision.”
“One night only,” said Kirk with the firmest voice he could master. “And tomorrow you’re going to help me find my men!”
“One night,” said Dionysus. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Well, that’s settled then,” said Kirk. He didn’t believe a word of Dionysus’ promise, but nevertheless turned around, reached out and roughly pulled the other man’s head towards him for a deep kiss. Dionysus was stunned only for a second, then he was kissing back. Hard. His lips and his tongue tasted of wine and spiced honey and for a short moment, Kirk lost all ability to think, simply drowning in the kiss.
Far too soon, Dionysus pulled away. “Not so fast,” he said and once again there was that damn smug smile spreading across his face. He held out his hand. “Get up!” Kirk struggled to rise from his chair, all his resistance was gone. What the hell is he doing to me? He felt dizzy, but simultaneously hyperaware of all his senses. All thoughts of Spock had evaporated from his brain. Besides, he was so hard it almost hurt. And he has barely touched me yet…
“Come with me.” Dionysus led him into a smaller room, which was mostly filled with a large bed. However, Kirk stopped paying attention to his surroundings, as soon as Dionysus pushed him backwards on the bed and kissed him again.
When he withdrew to catch his breath, his lips were swollen and his face was flushed, his golden eyes glowing. Kirk reached up and removed the wreath of vine leaves from Dionysus’ hair. “Looks ridiculous.” He smiled, before they indulged in another kiss. All thoughts about the dangers of his situation, about McCoy and Spock – they seemed light-years away as his body took control.
“Undress,” Dionysus whispered and once again Kirk obeyed automatically, pulling off his uniform tunic and regulation undershirt. Dionysus smiled and ran one finger across Kirk’s tanned chest. “Golden all over,” he whispered. “Beautiful.”
Afterwards Dionysus removed his own cloak and tunic and Kirk got a good view of his muscled torso. But his admiring thoughts were cut off abruptly when Dionysus bent down and his lips found Kirk’s left nipple while his fingers reached for the other one. Kirk moaned, aching for more. Usually it was him who was taking control in such a situation, but right now being taken advantage of seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Surrendering was so simple and the wine, still throbbing in his veins, made it even easier. Helplessly he pushed upwards, straining to rub his groin against Dionysus’ body, but the other man laughed and withdrew. Still smiling, he got up and moved to the table in the corner, while Kirk remained on the bed, groaning in frustration.
Very soon Dionysus returned, carrying a large two-handled goblet filled with dark red wine. Not again! But Kirk’s protest dwindled when Dionysus handed him the goblet. “Drink, my beautiful one, drink for me!”
The goblet was heavy and Kirk had to hold it with both hands. The wine poured into his mouth, dark and bitter-sweet – tasting like nothing he had ever experienced before. Dionysus’ voice echoed in his head: I am the giver of unmixed wine... He felt a hand on the back of his head. “Drink.” Unable to stop, he had to take another large gulp, even though his head was swimming already. He could feel the wine in his blood, burning, throbbing, conquering his flesh, his veins, his very self.
Kirks hands were starting to shake, but he had to take a third gulp. Wine was spilling over his chin, blood-red drops trickling along his throat and down across his chest. When he was finally able to put down the goblet, Dionysus bent down and licked the drops from Kirk’s body. Where his tongue touched Kirk’s skin, it tingled and burned like fire. “You are mine,” he whispered. “You have drunk the wine. You are one with me now.”
When Dionysus stood up and cast off the remainder of his clothes, Kirk sank to his knees, his body moving almost on its own accord. Sliding forward, still on his knees, he lifted his hands to rest them on Dionysus’ hips. He hesitated for only a second before he brought his mouth towards the other man’s cock. It had been quite a while since he had done this – except for... no, he mustn’t think about this, it was... Dionysus buried his hand in Kirk’s hair, pulled him closer. And Kirk closed his eyes, opened his mouth and took him in.
“Yes!” The words were in his head, in the very moment his lips closed around the hard shaft. “Oh, yes, swallow me – worship me – oh, worship me!” And then it turned into a language, Kirk couldn’t understand. But he was too far gone to wonder or to care – fully occupied with the task of giving pleasure and the pressure of his own burning arousal. His free hand had wandered between his legs, desperately rubbing himself through the suddenly far too heavy fabric of his uniform pants.
Kirk could tell Dionysus was close by his increasing moans, the way he bucked into his mouth while his fingers were digging hard into Kirk’s hair. Therefore he was more than surprised when the other man suddenly pulled away. Dionysus was visibly struggling to regain his control. His face was flushed and his pupils had dilated, his golden eyes were almost black. “Get up,” he urged, “On the bed!”
Kirk was aware of what was expected of him and his body trembled in anticipation. He shivered as he took another look at Dionysus’ cock, large and thick and slick with saliva and precome. All thoughts had been burned away from his head except for a single desire: I want him, I want him inside me! His fingers were trembling as he fumbled with his belt and frantically pushed down his pants, then he climbed on the bed and lowered himself on his hands and knees.
“So beautiful…” Once again Dionysus’ voice resounded right within Kirk’s head. Soft fingers were tracing the line of his spine, wandering lower, massaging his buttocks, finally finding their way in between. There was a pause and the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle and then cool oil was trickling down his cleft. Kirk couldn’t suppress a moan and when the first finger finally made its way inside he had to restrain himself not to come from that sensation alone. A second finger followed, then a third, stretching him just in the right way. Kirk moaned again, tried to spread his legs wider to grant Dionysus better access. “Oh please, come on,” he managed, arching his back and spreading his legs.
Dionysus withdrew his fingers and for a second, the emptiness was unbearable – then there was the slick sound of oil being applied on flesh and the blunt head of Dionysus’s cock pressed against Kirk’s opening. “Tell me what you want, say it!”
Kirk groaned, he wasn’t sure if he was able to speak at all, his whole body was on fire and he wanted nothing more than to be stretched and filled and finally to be taken by the god, have him inside him now.
“Please!” His voice was nothing more than a whimper.
Dionysus pushed forward, but not enough, his cock was still only brushing the opening and Kirk whimpered in frustration.
“Please, please… fuck me!”
As soon as the words were out, the god pushed in and Kirk couldn’t suppress a scream. There were no more words now, only the delicious pressure of the hard cock inside him, throbbing flesh and the swirling stars in front of his eyes.
And there was the god – the god, who filled his body, his blood, his mouth, his head – the god, who was everywhere in every thrust, who brought him closer and closer towards the ecstatic white void in the centre of the sun, the god who filled his head with the intoxicating drumbeat and the hectic rhythm of ancient pipes and foreign words and oh, he was close, so close – one, two thrusts, his whole body arched and then, there, he was almost there, oh please… and then the god’s fingers wrapped around his cock and he hit him just on the right spot and… oh yes, oh… there was only fire and stars and everything was drowning as the wave broke and Kirk was coming and the stars were exploding within his head. He barely felt how Dionysus pushed in a few more times, before he heard him moan and felt his hot seed spilling inside him – and then he collapsed and darkness was descending in front of his eyes – and then there was nothing and he blacked out.
* * *
When they woke up, the sun had long risen, but the fog was still there. McCoy yawned and stretched, his back felt stiff, but he had been able to enjoy more than six hours of deep undisturbed sleep and he could well live with that.
The Vulcan turned around, his eyes were open; he must have been awake for a while.
“Did you sleep well?”
Spock didn’t reply until he had pushed his blanket away and sat up.
“I… had bad dreams,” he said eventually. “For a Vulcan, this is highly unusual.”
“Well, after what we went through yesterday, I guess it’s just your human side surfacing,” McCoy said, but the Vulcan didn’t seem very convinced. He didn’t speak while he dressed and tidied his bedstead.
Meanwhile, McCoy checked the bandage around his ankle. When he moved his foot carefully, there was barely any pain – the abrasions on his hands and knees seemed to have improved as well and no infection had appeared overnight. He applied some more antiseptic, just to be sure, and started to get dressed. His uniform pants were still wearable, although badly torn at the knees, but his blue uniform shirt was in shreds.
“I will go and ask our hosts if they could lend you some clothes.” Spock had disappeared through the door before McCoy had any chance to reply.
He’s trying really hard to avoid talking to me…
With a sigh, McCoy sat down on the bed and waited. A few minutes later, Spock returned in the company of Guido Bellini, who handed McCoy a knee-length grey tunic in the simple style they had seen many of the Thalassians wearing
“It should be your size,” Bellini said. “I’m really sorry the maenad manhandled you so badly,” he added as he looked at McCoy’s bandaged foot. “I hope you’re feeling better today.”
“I am indeed,” McCoy answered, pulling the tunic over his head. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you quite soon, we must continue to look for our friend.”
“Yes, our search for the captain is of primary importance,” confirmed Spock.
“Of course it is, but I’m sure you’ll have time enough to stay for breakfast?”
None of them refused this offer. (“It is illogical to start a long day without sufficient nutrition,” was Spock’s very Vulcan excuse for sitting down at the breakfast table)
They even had coffee, or at least some kind of caffeinated beverage and when McCoy had finished his cup, he felt oddly optimistic. I’m sure we’ll find Jim today. Maybe we’ll even get back to the Enterprise before sunset. I’ll be so glad once we’ve left this planet and its goddamn fog!
Julia Bellini had been absent during breakfast. The three men were emptying their second cup of ‘coffee’, when she suddenly burst into the room. She must have been running very fast, as she was covered in sweat, her hair was wild and her breath was going very fast. Her eyes were wide with fear.
“You!” She turned towards the two Enterprise officers: “You must leave immediately!”
They jumped to their feet, instinctively looking around in search of potential enemies. “What is going on?” asked Spock.
Guido Bellini rushed to the window. “Maledetto, they are coming,” he hissed “You have to get out of here, quick!”
“Who is coming? Damnit, why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”
“It’s the city guards,” said Julia. “Someone has set them on us!”
“We have done nothing wrong, we are no criminals,” said Bellini, his voice was trembling. “The Vivarini must have sent them. There won't be any chance of a fair trial, the Vivarini always bribe the guards – they’ve been waiting for a chance like this for years!”
“So the feud between your families is that serious?” asked McCoy.
“Deadly serious,” said Julia. “Ten people have died in this year alone. Our families have been fighting for more than a century. It’s about who is in power in the Signoria. The Bellini and the Vivarini are the clans who put in the most members and whoever holds the majority in the Signoria rules the city.”
“I still don’t understand why they bother to attack you two. Haven’t you told me that you’re nothing but boatsmen, without any political involvement?”
“It’s because of our father and our uncle Luca,” Guido explained. “They are both members of the Signoria. I guess the Vivarini will attempt to blackmail them, they’ve tried before.”
“And they will succeed, if we don’t escape right now,” said Julia. “Hurry up, through the backdoor! There’s a gondola waiting!”
“Yes, you two as well,” she urged Spock and McCoy to follow her. Bellini had already left the room and was climbing down the steep stairs towards the canal that ran behind the house. “As our houseguest you count as family – if they catch you below our roof or within our company, you’re dead as well.”
That was enough to convince both of them to enter the Bellini’s gondola as quick as possible. As soon as they were all inside, Bellini took the long oar and pushed the narrow boat into the middle of the canal. It accelerated with surprising speed and soon they passed below a bridge, turned left into another canal and the Bellinis’ house shifted out of sight.
No one dared to utter a word as the gondola was gliding silently through the canals. McCoy crouched next to Spock and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Houses, bridges and towers were gliding by. It really looks exactly like Venice. It occurred to McCoy that he still hadn’t asked anybody why this was the case. There must have been Terran input, but god knows when. I guess this is not the time to debate cultural history.
They had no idea where they were going. The Bellinis hadn’t told them when they had left the house and now no one dared to speak out of fear, the guards, who, according to Julia were also patrolling the bridges, might overhear them.
They entered another, larger canal, there was another bridge in front of them, an impressive construction made from white marble. While McCoy was still admiring the bridge, Spock addressed their boatsman.
“Mr. Bellini?”the Vulcan whispered, “This looks very suspicious, I don’t think…”
This was when the gunshots started.
There was a loud bang and the water next to the gondola exploded. Another bullet hit the side of the boat.
“Jump!” This was Julia’s voice – she and her brother had already escaped into the murky green canal water.
The water… the water with the sea-monsters! No matter if they call them peaceful, I’m not going in there!
Another shot rang and smoke was rising behind the balustrade of the bridge. McCoy could see movement, the guards were re-loading their guns – they seemed to be using old-fashioned front-loaders that took a lot of time to recharge. But still, the first soldiers were already aiming again.
Another shot – they couldn’t miss all the time. The Bellinis had already swum away and were just disappearing into the mouth of one of the smaller canals to the left.
A splash of water – even Spock had jumped into the canal.
“Get into the water, Doctor,” he yelled, as his dripping head with slick black hair appeared on the surface.
McCoy was still hesitating. His whole body trembled when he thought about the tentacled maenads, which might be lurking below the opaque grayish-green surface.
“The creatures won’t attack you here!” Spock seemed to have read his thoughts. “The water is too shallow. Just jump!”
Another shot rung, this time so close that McCoy could feel the sharp gust of air as the bullet rushed by.
I guess that’s it, he sighed, took a deep breath and jumped.
The water was colder than he had expected. For a second he was stunned, wildly struggling below the surface. He opened his eyes, the salty water stung, but all he could see was a muddy green in every direction he was looking.
Don’t panic, just don’t panic – it’s not as bad as it looks. Just think… logically! McCoy forced himself to stay calm (not that easy when you were quickly running out of breath) and tried to focus on his surroundings. Now he was able to recognize the light of the sky and dark shadow of the boat above him – definitively the right direction. He collected his strength and began to swim. When he finally breached the surface and gasped for air, he could see Spock paddling towards him with fast movements. Where did he learn to swim on that desert planet of his?
“Doctor McCoy,” the Vulcan said. “Quick, we have to move away!”
“Alright alright. Just let me catch my breath!” McCoy sighed and swam on, trying to push away the thought how near he had come to almost drowning– wasn’t life on the Enterprise always like this? At some point, he had stopped keeping count of his near-death experiences.
Only now, when he was crossing the large canal with broad strokes, he realized that the guards had left the bridge – at least there were no more gunshots. He didn’t know whether he should be glad or rather worry they might have come up with a new plan.
“Did you see where the Bellinis went?” he asked Spock who was swimming with breaststrokes at his side.
The Vulcan nodded. “We have to turn left when we reach the other bank.”
They managed to conquer the last meters and turned into the smaller canal on the left. The water was shallower here and they quickly discovered a staircase to climb onto the embankment. Gasping and dripping, they finally found themselves on dry ground again. McCoy looked back and shivered when he discovered in retrospective how wide the larger canal was – it must be pretty deep, he was sure one of the sea-creatures would fit in. We were lucky, we were just damn lucky!
When they had recovered a bit, they walked on – neither McCoy nor Spock knew exactly where they were going or what their next aim was, but they both agreed that it was best to leave the area before the guards picked up their trace.
Thus they turned left, into the next alleyway, away from the canal. Three steps into it they froze.
The guards had appeared out of nowhere. Four big men in purple tunics and tall helmets clustered the narrow space of the alleyway; all had their rifles lifted and were taking aim.
“If you move now, you’re dead!”
None of the two Enterprise officers dared to move a finger.
“Now. Lift your hands. Slowly.”
They obeyed – there was no choice.
Two of the guards were still aiming their rifles, while the other two produced ropes from their pockets and set to tie McCoy’s and Spock’s hands behind their backs. McCoy swore, but as soon as the words left his lips one of the guards punched him hard into the chest.
“Silence!” he barked.
Pain spread red and hot through McCoy’s body. Of course the guard had managed to hit one of the bruises that already covered his ribcage. Oh shit, he thought, this is not going good.
Spock was his usual stoic self and had remained silent, but once the guards had finish to tie them up and urged them to come along, he cleared his throat and asked: “May I inquire why you have arrested us? We are nothing but travelers; we did neither plan to stay for long nor to be involved into your politics.”
“You stayed under the Bellinis’ roof, that’s enough. As associates of their family, you’re involved into their activities – those siblings you were staying with were planning treason against the Signoria.”
“Silence! Traitors like you have no right to speak to honest men! The only thing that awaits you will be the Intercolumnium.”
“The what?” asked McCoy.
“The gallows between the columns next to the Palazzo Ducale,” said the guard. “That means – execution for both of you.”