Fic: The Unreal City 6/6

[pallanwen]

Title: The Unreal City
Part: 6/6
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, Kirk/OMC
Genre: slash, adventure
Rating: NC-17 for this part
Warnings: none for this part
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!

 

Epilogue

Kirk comes to see him as soon as the shift is over. Spock has expected him, but he isn’t sure whether he anticipates or dreads this encounter.

But as soon as Spock looks at him he knows that the time for talking has passed. There is this glow in Kirk’s hazel eyes, a glow Spock recalls only hazily from the dark red hours after the pon farr. He has been so certain he would never see it again.

Kirk approaches him with the familiar half-smile on his face. “Spock,” he whispers, his voice is soft and throaty– it is that kind of voice he usually uses when he aims to seduce a woman.

One step closer. Heat is rising in Spock’s chest, as all the long-suppressed emotions of his human half roar up in their restraints. Usually, this would be the moment when he escapes from human company and withdraws into his quarters, to spend the next hours in deep meditation until he manages to eliminate all the treacherous traces of humanness.

But not today. Today, it is the Vulcan in him, who weakens as the human gains power. A power that increases with every second Spock is looking into Kirk’s eyes.

“Spock,” the captain says. “I’ll leave if you want me to. We don’t have to talk if you...”

Spock shakes his head. “No Captain. I welcome the discussion.” He is unable to erase the formal speech patterns from his language. But even the Vulcan tongue would not be able to put into words what is happening inside him. In fact no language in this galaxy would be adequate to express what James Kirk does to him.

Thus he decides to escape the boundaries of language as he lifts his hand and extends it towards Kirk. The captain’s eyes go wide as he slowly lifts his own hand and reaches out. He knows enough about Vulcans to understand what this means to Spock.

And still, Spock can’t suppress a twitch as Kirk’s cool fingers wrap around his. This is something Vulcans are not supposed to do to humans, something their society doesn’t approve of, but Spock has seen his own parents finger-kissing like this many times.

He realizes the captain is on the brink of withdrawing his hand.

“No,” whispers Spock and Kirk’s fingers remain in his while the telepathic bond is slowly growing. There’s warmth, deep affection and still some insecurity – and something else: something deep and feral and burning, barely restrained behind the captain’s calm exterior. The spark is transmitted through their linked fingers and when Spock looks into Kirk’s face again, it becomes clear– it’s desire, pure raw human desire.

A smile lightens up Kirk’s face and in this very moment, his fingers begin to move, softly massaging Spock’s palm.

How does he know about this? The heat, which suddenly shoots through Spock’s veins, drives away all logic and Spock has to battle hard to get his brain back working. Of course, it is only logical for him to enquire about the ... lesser known aspects of Vulcan biology. He might have asked McCoy for a look into the database or... He is unable to complete this thought, because Kirk has increased the pressure on his hand, circling around his palm and stroking up and down his fingers and it is all Spock can do to stifle the moan that wants to escape his lips.

You like this, don’t you?” Kirk whispers. Apparently, he has no intention to talk about their sojourn on Thalassus III.

“This... this question is rather superfluous, Captain, as you could easily deduct an answer from... from my physical reaction.” Spock struggles hard to keep his voice calm.

Kirk chuckles and takes another step forward to close the distance between them, still not letting go of Spock’s fingers as he places his free hand on his shoulder. Two points of contact are almost too much. Spock has to close his eyes and take his time to adjust to the unusual sensation. This is not the Vulcan way, his conscience yells, while the other half of his self wants nothing more than give in.

He is not sure whether he has reached equilibrium, when he opens his eyes again.

Kirk’s face is so very close – his eyes seem to fill Spock’s whole field of vision.”Let me kiss you,” he whispers.

“You are already kissing me... Captain,” Spock manages to reply.

Kirk’s lips curl into another smile. “The human way,” he says, “And by the way, stop calling me Captain.”

“I know... Jim!”

Kirk – Jim – takes this as an agreement. His left hand moves towards Spock’s neck, pulls him closer and finally pulls his head down into a kiss. When their lips are touching and a moist human tongue enters his mouth, Spock is stunned. Vulcans do not kiss like this and he has never before experienced the human way himself. He closes his eyes, because his observations have told him that this is what humans do when they kiss, and tries to focus on the sensation.

Jim’s body is melting against his; Spock has never felt him so close. Even though the cloth of their uniforms is separating them he can feel the cool flesh of the human body together with each curve of Jim’s limbs and every hard muscle. And of course, he notices the hardness between Jim’s legs and hears the obscene little moans his captain manages to produce in the back of his throat while kissing.

It’s these sounds together with the fingers, still caressing his hands, which bring out the heat in Spock. He does not even need to place his fingers on the melting points to increase these sensations .Jim’s passion and desire are seeping from his mind through his skin into their shared touch and Spock knows.

Jim pulls away, very slowly, breaking the kiss, even though their fingers remain intertwined. His lips are moist and he is breathing hard, Spock notices the blush on his cheeks and the fact that his pupils are dilated, his eyes have gone dark.

“Spock, I want you,” he murmurs and he reaches out for Spock’s uniform tunic, trying to push it upwards. “I want you to…”

“No.” Spock grabs his wrist and stops him. “There is something that has to be done first.”

He can sense Jim’s red-blooded human pulse throbbing in the veins of his wrist, feels another wave of emotions, which are only partly his own, floating through his body, usurping his mind.

It is so very much like what happened after the pon farr – he can feel his control slipping away. He wants Jim, something feral inside him is unable to wait, wants him right now and here, without restraint, rough and hard and… no!

“Spock?” Jim’s voice is soft, his eyes have gone wide and he gives Spock a quizzical look. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Spock manages, his voice sounds rough in his throat. He doesn’t want to say it, he has sworn himself never to speak of it again, but here they are and history is repeating itself, and he has to stop it, it has to be different this time, before it destroys them both.

“I do not want us to proceed like… like the last time.”

Jim hesitates, and Spock forces himself to let go of his hand. As soon as his fingers leave Jim’s, the stream of emotions ceases and he is alone in his mind again. Physically separated from him, Jim seems far more the captain – Spock’s superior officer, whom he is not supposed to harbor feelings for. With the loss of contact, the situation becomes impossible once more. We cannot do this, we must not…

“I understand,” the captain’s – Jim’s – voice interrupts his thoughts. “The… last time was… shaped by very special circumstances… We didn’t even talk, actually, we never talked about it and I guess this was wrong.” He clears his throat “I guess this is largely my fault. I was a coward.” He avoids Spock’s eyes, stares at his feet. “I have been running away. I was… I guess, I was simply afraid of what I had gotten myself into.”

These are the words Spock has wanted to hear for many weeks. He nods and it is surprisingly easy for him to reply: “I felt the same. Afterwards, when the last traces of the plak tow had left my metabolism and I was able to think clearly again, I experienced guilt. I thought I had taken advantage of you, against your will. I…”

Jim looks up again, stares him straight into the eye, his own eyes are blazing. “Of course not!” He shakes his head for emphasis. “It was the heat of the moment, naturally but... but goddamn, Spock, we both could have died down there on Vulcan! And you thought I was dead and I thought I’d lost you, so neither of us could have expected rational thought and…”

“You do not need to explain yourself any further,” Spock says and his lips urge to curl up in a smile, a desire he is hardly able to suppress as a large wave of relief is rushing through him. But the bright smile that lights up Jim’s features in this very moment is enough for both of them. He reaches out and places his hands on Spock’s shoulders, ready to pull him into another kiss, but once again, Spock backs away.

“There is something I want to try, before we… proceed.”

He lifts his hand and lightly puts his fingers against Jim’s temple.

Jim’s eyes grow wide. “A mind meld?”

Spock nods. This time he wants to do it properly. If he must do this, if he must throw away what makes him Vulcan, let go of all control. He wants to share everything with Jim and the meld is the only way to show him what he cannot put into words.

“I trust you,” he simply says.

There is worry in Jim’s eyes. “I… I am not sure you’ll like everything you’ll see in there,” he says and tips a finger against his head.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “You mean the fact that you have slept with another man while on Thalassus?”

Jim is horrified. “You know?”

Spock has known it from the very moment Jim touched his hand at the prison cell’s window. It has been so obvious he had virtually been able to smell it on his body – and by now he has had more than twenty hours to come to terms with his jealously. In the end it’s only logical to forgive Jim for this one-time encounter that has filled Jim with so much guilt. Initially, Spock had still meant to be angry, but his anger evaporated the very moment Jim entered his cabin.

Thus, instead of an answer, he just lifts his other hand to Jim’s temple and asks softly “Are you ready?”

He can still feel Jim’s surprise, but nevertheless the captain nods and doesn’t press the subject any further. “I am,” he says with a firm voice.

And then they are one.

 

When Spock finally lowers his hands, it takes him longer than usual return into his own mind. It feels strange, being alone in his head again, after everything he has just experienced. But there’s no time to pursue this thought any further, because Jim is all over him, pulling him into his arms and kissing him hard.

“Thank you,” he whispers between kisses.

And as soon as they touch, the contact is reestablished. Not as intense as it was during the meld, but Spock is still able to feel part of Jim’s thoughts –all relief and gratitude - and somehow this makes it easier for him to let go and give in to the kiss. He closes his eyes and sinks into Jim’s emotions, allows himself to join the other man’s desire and he knows that he is ready now. When Jim’s hands slip under his uniform tunic for the second time, he doesn’t refuse him.

Jim’s fingers are cool on his skin as their caress Spock’s stomach, eventually wandering up towards his chest, stroking, exploring every inch of skin.

Finally he withdraws his hands and lightly tugs at the hem of Spock’s shirt, chuckling softly. “I think this has to go.”

Spock nods his agreement and pulls the garment over his head. It is only logical to proceed as quickly as possible.

Soon they have both discarded their tunics and Spock pauses to take a good look at Jim, who is now standing shirtless in front of him. Very tentatively Spock reaches out and trails his fingers over the smooth skin of Jim’s chest. The very contact of his fingers makes Jim shiver. Spock can physically sense his surprise.

But this wouldn’t be Jim Kirk if he let himself be startled for long, even in the face of Spock’s sudden initiative. He quickly grasps Spock’s shoulders and before Spock is able to react, he has pulled him with him as he sinks backwards onto the nearby bed. At first Jim’s body feels strangely cool and smooth against his own chest, but very soon, Spock gets used to the feeling and as Jim’s skin seems to warm up, absorbing the heat that radiates from his own body, he barely feels any difference. What he can clearly feel, however, is the hardness between Jim’s legs, and the answering pressure in his own groin.

Jim’s fingers are everywhere, stroking every inch of Spock’s back, running up and down his spine until they reach the edge of the uniform pants he is still wearing, while his mouth is busy trailing kisses along the length of Spock’s neck.

“I have waited so long for this,” he whispers against Spock’s ear, “I can’t believe it.”

Spock does not reply. He is far too focused on enjoying these new sensations to be able to form a coherent answer. Apparently, Jim doesn’t mind his lack of response, but continues to whisper various bits of nonsense during the short moments, in which his mouth is not occupied with licking and sucking at the delicate skin of Spock’s neck.

And then, his tongue touches the edge of his ear and now it is Spock who can’t suppress a moan as electric sparks seem to jolt through his body. He has to close his eyes as he feels the pleasure roaring through his veins and barely hears Jim chuckle as he indulges into his new-found task.

“Don’t stop…” Spock hardly recognizes the sound of his own voice.

He can hear the smile in Jim’s voice. “Don’t worry, it only gets better!”

“I’ll trust your judgment, Captain – for now,” Spock says dryly and awkwardly rolls to the side to allow Jim for a change of positions. Immediately after they are settled lying next to each other Jim starts to fumble with the fastenings of Spock’s trousers.

“Let’s get these things off you,” he whispers and is already pulling them down Spock’s legs, together with the underwear. Only one hour ago, Spock could not have imagined doing anything like this, but now he is lifting his hips to give his captain better access and only moments later he is lying naked on his back, blushing as he stares down at his obvious erection.

He turns his head to look at Jim, who is glancing downwards with fascination. Of course. Although Vulcan anatomy differs only slightly from humans, there are several distinctions that must appear strange to human eyes unfamiliar with its details. And of course, Jim didn’t have much time to stare during the rushed frenzy of their previous encounter.

Now he is slowly lowering his hand and softly strokes Spock’s erection. The touch is enough to make Spock moan quietly, wishing for more.

Jim smiles and closes his fingers around the shaft, moving his hand up and down. Slowly at first, but when Spock bucks up and groans, louder this time, because oh, this feels good, Jim increases speed and quickly dissolves Spock’s last remaining bit of control.

“Mmm, I like to hear you,” Jim whispers when a particularly desperate gasp escapes Spock’s lips. “Let’s see if we can make you beg…”

This is when he shifts his position, bends down and wraps his lips around Spock’s erection.

His mouth is warm and wet and he is doing things with his tongue. Spock’s eyes fall shut, he throws his head back and can barely keep himself from screaming.

Oh… oh Jim!

Red and black stars and a dozen suns are dancing before his closed eyelids. There is barely a hint of Vulcan restraint left, neither in his body nor in his mind as that wicked human mouth manipulates him into giving in completely, letting himself go, erasing all thoughts, reducing him into a quivering, bucking, moaning mess, who is feeling, feeling… feeling…

He is close. He can feel the tension building up in his groin, close to bursting as Jim is pressing down on him, engulfing him completely in tight pulsating human wetness, swallowing him whole in a move Spock would have thought impossible for the human throat to perform.

But release is denied to him; Jim backs away, his lips swollen and his face flushed as he is coughing, apparently not completely indifferent to the strain of taking in Spock’s length. Spock immediately forgets about his own desire. Worrying that the task might have been too much for Jim, he is already opening his mouth to ask, but Jim, who seems to have noticed Spock’s concern, just smiles and shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, “just had to catch my breath.” He quickly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks down on Spock again. “Also, we’re not done yet. I have other plans for you.”

It is only now that Spock notices that Jim is still half-dressed.

“Excuse me, I have been selfish, I…” But Jim shuts him up with a long kiss. Spock can taste a slight aroma of himself on Jim’s tongue, which is strange, but not unappealing. Eventually Jim pulls back and pauses for a moment to look Spock in the eye. His eyes are dark with desire and he is breathing heavily.

“I want you to take me, Spock,” he says.

Spock hasn’t thought about the … logistics until now. Jim had taken the passive part last time and apparently enjoyed it, but Spock had not necessarily assumed that he would do it again today. However, the fact that he is offering himself to him now, this time in full control of his senses and with apparent eagerness, just adds another layer to Spock’s already unbearable arousal.

Unable to answer, he simply gives Jim a breathless nod and then helps him to remove his remaining clothes, his fingers shaking as he fumbles with the belt, but soon enough the offending garment slips to the floor and he is finally able to appreciate Jim’s naked body.

But there is not much time for contemplation, Jim is so far gone, he is not even able to indulge in his usual narcissism.

“Wait a second,” he murmurs and frantically starts to rummage in the pocket of his just discarded pants. “Ah, here it is!” He throws a small bottle towards Spock, before he positions himself on his hands and knees on the bed. Spock notices that his legs are trembling slightly.

For a short moment, Spock feels strangely helpless, as he stares first at the glorious naked body of his captain on the bed, all smooth golden skin and aching desire, and then at the mundane bottle in his hand.

“What are you waiting for?” Jim turns his head and looks above his shoulder. “It’s lube, Spock. I guess you know what to do with it, it’ll make things easier. Laws of physics, you know?”

“Of course I do,” Spock grumbles, slightly embarrassed as he unscrews the bottle. Jim chuckles, but his laughter is quickly replaced by a moan, as Spock slips the first lubricated finger into him.

“Oh yes, Spock, oh…”

Somewhere in the back of his mind Spock dearly hopes for his quarter’s walls to be soundproofed, he wouldn’t have imagined his captain to be that vocal. But as he slips the second finger into Jim’s body and hears the high-keened whimper Jim is producing somewhere in the back of his throat while he is literally begging for more, he decides that he couldn’t care less. All he wants is to bury himself in that tight human body that is writhing in front of him.

“Another finger, Spock, give me… ooooh…” Jim’s words dissolve into desperate gasps and moans as Spock inserts the third finger, now just as impatient as Jim himself.

He slowly pushes forwards and backwards a few times, careful not to strain the muscle too much, before he pulls out and proceed to slicking his own erection with the remaining lubricant.

Jim spreads his legs wider and instead of burying his head into the pillow as he has done before, he is now once again looking over his shoulder, twisting his neck in the attempt to establish eye contact.

“I need you inside me.” His voice is hoarse and barely audible. “Now!”

This is all Spock needs. He grabs Jim’s hips forces his legs further apart and finally pushes inside. He barely hears Jim’s scream, halfway muffled by the pillows, as he closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of the human body surrounding him.

For a while he remains still and just savors the feeling. He is mine. I am his. We are one. The telepathic contact is strengthening, he can feel Jim’s desire mixing with his own, creating a sensation, a burning maelstrom of lust, almost unbearable.

“Move!” Jim’s voice penetrates the red mist filling his mind. “Please!”

And Spock starts moving, pushing in and pulling out. Slowly at first, enjoying every tiny bit of the friction, together with the movement of Jim’s body, the tanned skin under his fingers, the sight of the broad shoulders and smooth back in front of him, the muscular thighs against his legs – but when Jim begs “Harder!” he is only too willing to obey his command and eventually he gives in, completely abandoning the last bit of reason, letting himself go, drowning within the sea of burning flames.

And then he reaches out and his fingers hold on to Jim’s head, searching their way through his sweaty bronze-colored hair until he finds the meld points – and then they are one again, both succumbing to the movements, the clash of flesh on flesh, the fire, the tight red-blooded body, the desire, the strain and pull of muscles, flesh and bone and blood and heat and humanness, and the feeling when he changes the angle and Jim cries out loud, bucking against him and Spock is him and feels himself inside and Jim is him and they are but one body writhing and pushing and moaning and ooh, he feels the push right against that spot on his inside and oooh, he slams in right to the pubic bone and hands are pressing down on his hips with Vulcan strength and golden skin is slick with sweat under his pale fingers and he doesn’t know where Jim starts and Spock end and where Spock starts and Jim ends and they are one, one one… And then the world explodes before his eyes.

He can’t distinguish his own orgasm from Jim’s, but that doesn’t matter, because the fire is rushing through his body and he throws back his head, close to screaming as he is finally, finally coming and everything goes red and black in front of his eyes and for a second every single thought is erased from his brain and only white heat remains.

The meld breaks and Spock is sinking down on Jim’s body, it takes him a long time, until he is able to move or to form a coherent thought. Finally, when he realizes how uncomfortable the position must be for Jim, he rolls down and with already half-closed eyes, he stretches out an arm and wraps it around Jim’s waist. He falls asleep within seconds.

When he opens his eyes again, the first thing he sees is Jim’s smiling face.

“I think I’ve never watched you sleep before,” he says.

It takes Spock a while to reconstruct the circumstances of his situation. He rubs his eyes and takes a quick look around. Jim is still naked and is lying next to him in his rumpled bed. The air smells faintly of sex and their clothes are scattered throughout the room.

“You’ve slept for two hours,” Jim says, “it’s still the middle of delta shift we’re not due to appear on the bridge for five hours.”

Spock nods “That is good to hear.” He realizes that Jim has just placed a hand on his shoulder and is lightly massaging the base of his neck. The feeling is pleasant, but nevertheless, Spock’s first impulse is to push his hand away. But then he remembers what happened just a few hours ago and relaxes into the caress.

“Just lie still,” Jim murmurs and shifts into a more comfortable position with his chest against Spock’s back. “We have plenty of time,” he says, his breath warm against Spock’s ear. “We could take a shower and then…”

Spock barely listens to the rest of his sentence; he is still trying to organize his thoughts. Finally, he sighs and prepares himself to face the concrete implications of their… situation.

“What do you suggest we should do next?” he says.

He can feel Jim’s smile against his skin. “Well, as I already said, I think we should take a nice long shower…”

“No, I meant, what are we supposed to do …about us? And how should be proceed with Thalassus III? I am afraid we are not yet done with the planet and its inhabitants.” He turns around to face Jim directly. “You do realize that we left our phasers and two communicators in La Città? It is only a matter of time, before the Liberator…”

“And there I was, thinking we were able to relax for just a bit,” Jim sighs and stretches his arms. But his face grows serious within seconds. “I’ve been thinking about it, while you were asleep,” he says. “And I think there’s no way around returning to the city. Obviously it’ll require a bigger landing party and modified communicators, but we need to get those devices back, we can’t allow for Dionysus and the inhabitants of La Città to figure out how they work.”

“This will interfere with the Prime Directive, I understand,” says Spock.

Jim sighs. “It’s not that I’m very keen on returning to this place,” he says, “and I’m sure you don’t feel the biggest desire to face Dionysus again, either.”

Spock voice becomes cool. “I do not particularly wish to ever hear this name again.” Jim casts him a weak smile “I’ll do my best,” he says and resumes his caressing of Spock’s shoulder. “You can trust me, you won’t have to worry about … him. But you do see the need to go down there again and retrieve the phasers, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then I guess the story isn’t over yet.”

“I don’t think so, Captain.”

“Jim!”

“One step at a time… Jim.”

 

 

The End