Chapter Text
Nine
Spock efficiently packed his bags, clearing out his closet of the several identical engineer’s coveralls that hung there, along with his pants and shirts. He folded them precisely and stacked like clothes with like on the bed. He grabbed his work boots and placed them at the bottom of his open suitcase, lay in the clothing, and retrieved all his underclothes from his dresser, tucking them into the inner pouch of his luggage. From the bathroom he retrieved his toiletries and he tucked the small toiletry bag beside his clothing.
Spock went into the living room and perused every corner and surface, mindful of leaving anything behind. He took one more look around the small room that had been his home for the past three months. He had already gathered his personal electronics and sat his satchel bag by the door. His hooded jacket hung on a hook.
Satisfied that all his belongings were accounted for, he returned to the bedroom and zipped up his luggage. He returned with it to the living room where he dropped the bag by the door and slipped into his coat. He took one final look around, committing and consigning the modest little quarters to his memory, shrugged into his coat picked up his bags and left the room.
As he quietly rolled his luggage down the carpeted corridor, he considered letting his colleagues know of his departure. Then he dismissed the thought, as none of them had ever shown the slightest interest in his whereabouts or comings or goings. Spock arrived at the bank of elevators and pushed the ‘down’ button.
A door opened immediately and in moments he was rolling through the lobby without a backward glance. Through the lobby doors he went. Immediately the cold breeze hit his exposed skin and ruffled his hair. A heavy rain poured from the sky and Spock could not help but glance up through the transparent overhang and watch it pool there and drip off the sides of the overhang. Having grown up in such an arid environment, the abundant wetness fascinated him. Earth was certainly enriched with an abundance of it, and since he was adequately clothed against it, he could stand underneath the dry shelter and appreciate its beauty.
Around him people came and went about their business, checking into the hotel, or departing permanently or temporarily. Taxis picked up and dropped off patrons. Several people stood in groups of two or three and spoke quietly among themselves. He wondered at their lives. Where did they all belong? Were they happy?
Spock stood patiently for several minutes and simply let himself be, watching the world move by him, listened to the traffic – the sound of wheels of motor cars moving through the pooled wetness of the streeet surface, of horns blaring in the distance, of people hurrying by in the rain, heels clicking against concrete.
A black sedan pulled up to him and the trunk of the car rose slightly as the release mechanism was engaged. Spock leaned down to make eye contact with the driver to acknowledge him. He walked behind the car to stow his bags before securing the trunk again. He let himself into the car then, leaned over, and kissed the driver.
Jim smiled at him and pulled away from the curb. He took Spock’s hand in his.
****
Spock hung his things in Jim’s half-empty walk-in closet, stowed his toiletries in Jim’s bathroom. When he returned to the bedroom, Jim was sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, erect.
A window was cracked open, admitting a little of the storm outside. A curtain swayed in the breeze, undulating in its modulating intensity.
Spock did not acknowledge the bottle of Astroglide on Jim’s nightstand, nor the condom next to it. He focused on Jim’s bright eyes, his silence.
He became nervous as the reality of the moment hit him. But he pulled his resolve around himself like a warm cloak. He stopped several feet from Jim and raised his hands to the hidden buttons of his shirt. Jim wanted this from him and he would deny Jim nothing, despite his misgivings.
He removed his shirt, and let it drop on the bench at the foot of Jim’s bed. Next, he toed out of his loafers, removed his undershirt, his pants and his briefs. In deference to his cold extremities, he kept his socks on, and came closer to Jim and stood, at a loss as to how to proceed.
Understanding, Jim took over. He reached out and pulled Spock by his wrist closer to him. He placed his hands on his hips and kissed his stomach, opening his mouth enough to let the tip of his tongue wet Spock’s skin. He turned him slowly around, and gave the same treatment to his buttocks, making Spock gasp. He felt his own penis lift until it was as erect as Jim’s already was.
Jim slid one finger down his crevice, exploring an area that had previously been off-limits. He pressed one fingertip into his entrance, hinting of things to come, and let it slip out again of its own volition. “On your knees,” he whispered, guiding Spock down to the bed where he wanted him. Spock obeyed.
Jim placed a cool hand on his inner thigh, indicating he wanted Spock to spread his thighs. He did so, and Jim’s hands parted his buttocks and slid his tongue from the top of his crevice down to the center and it pressed in, where moments before Jim’s fingertip was. It took Spock’s breath away and he instinctively moved away from the intense pleasure. Jim pulled him back in place, and firmly began to lick with the thickest widest part of his tongue, stroking his sensitivity and bathing him with wetness. Jim circled with his head, humming to himself with pleasure and then sucked in the wetness he had just deposited there. He slid his hands from Spock’s waist, up his back and back down again, leaving Spock tingling in their wake.
Jim pushed Spock’s lower back down, forcing him to arch further into Jim’s mouth. Jim pulled his buttocks apart wider, and sucked on his orifice, letting his teeth gently graze before sticking his tongue inside and circling within. Spock was beyond words, beyond thought. He clutched at the bedclothes beneath him with white knuckles, gasping for breath.
Jim slid a finger into him. He did not stop at the fingertip this time; he slid the finger in as far as it would go. He curled the tip downwards and hit Spock’s sensitive gland, taking his breath away. A second finger followed. Spock experimentally squeezed the fingers within him and the resultant pleasure zinged up to his fingertips and lips. He cried out.
Jim pulled away and resumed his gentle oral ministrations, cupping each of his buttocks and squeezing. Spock surrendered to the pleasure, letting his head and shoulders drop to the bed while his hips remained in the air, begging for Jim’s continued touch. Jim did not disappoint.
After a while his soothing tongue was replaced by the fingers again, revving Spock up until he was panting like he’d run a marathon. Just as he felt he would peak, the fingers came away. Spock felt Jim shift on the bed. He unburied his head from the pillow and watched his lover move close enough to the nightstand to grasp the condom, tearing the package open. Jim efficiently rolled it onto himself and he grabbed the lubricant.
He spent several long moments applying the substance to Spock, caressing the muscle to ensure its relaxation.
“This way,” Jim said softly. He gently guided Spock to his side into a fetal position, pushing his right knee up higher toward his chest. “It won’t hurt as much,” he said as he stroked Spock’s thigh.
Jim guided his tip to his entrance. “Inhale, slowly,” he said. In the next moment, he was pierced. “Okay?” Jim asked.
“Yes,” he said breathlessly.
Jim pushed all the way into him.
Spock exhaled when Jim withdrew. Jim smoothly inserted his penis again, hooking his forearm over Spock’s shoulder. He withdrew once more and slid back in again. Withdrew and returned, withdrew and returned.
Each time he returned, Spock gasped.
Jim kissed his neck and every place he could reach before lifting himself up, angling them forward a little more and earnestly thrusting into Spock’s body. Spock’s gasps became more and more vocalized while Jim loudly moaned with each thrust.
Soon the bed began to squeak with the force of Jim’s thrusts, adding to their rhythmic noise. Their flesh slapped wetly and loudly together. Jim slid his hand down to where Spock's weeping penis was trapped between his thighs. Jim curled his fist around it and began to pump him as he undulated within Spock, shifting so his motions were up and down instead of in and out.
Spock did his best to stifle the chest-deep growls that began to issue from him. Jim paused to kiss and lick behind his ears. “Let it go; it’s alright,” he whispered, breath huffing against his sensitive earlobes. He resumed his thrusting. “God, you feel so good to me. Oh Spock, oh Spock, oh Spock.”
Jim lifted from him, shifted angles again and came down with brutal force, ripping a pleasured wail from Spock’s lips.
“Squeeze down on my co*ck,” Jim instructed. "Take your pleasure." Jim began to f*ck him without mercy.
Spock felt the tsunami building, and the familiar momentary panic as he lost control. He wailed as the tidal wave overtook him. His thighs erupted into strong tremors before his entire lower half convulsed in pleasure. His teeth clenched as his body flew apart.
After he crested and tumbled down the other side, Jim stiffened in org*sm inside of him and continued to thrust through it. Seven times Jim thrust before collapsing on top of him. Jim left the bed momentarily to dispose of the condom.
Through his post-org*smic haze, though, a small core of dread formed within Spock. He was due to depart for Vulcan in eighteen days. And then what would he do, having known this...love? For that is what it was. Love.
Jim settled himself in bed again and Spock turned in his arms and wrapped his arms around his lover’s still-heaving stomach. He buried his face in Jim’s neck.
When Jim wrapped his arms around him and squeezed, he tried to not ponder with bitterness the cruelty of a universe that would show him such Paradise only to expel him from it so quickly.
Outside, the wind picked up and Spock felt the breeze rush through the window and brush across his damp and cooling skin.
Spock shivered.
