7 - 12
Title: Revision: “Skylights” - “Under The Sun” series, Part 1
Chapter 1/20
Author: T'Thrill
Series: TOS
Romance Code: S/K/Mc
Rating: NC-17 m/m , m/f
Summary: Just days before the end of the first five-year mission, feelings become exposed with unexpected results, causing major changes to the relationship between Kirk, Spock and McCoy.
“Starlights,” is the first part of the “Under the Sun” series. This part begins at the end of the original five-year mission and continues to after “Startrek: The Motion Picture”
Originally published in 1999, this has been rewritten and expanded. I hope you enjoy this newer version.
Warning: This story contains very explicit m/m sex. If you are not interested in and/or offended by such things, you will find reading this a complete waste of your time so please move on. If you are under 18 years of age, please move on.
Disclaimer: Copyright 1999/2002 by T'Thrill. This is an original work of amateur fiction based on the Star Trek television series and subsequent movies. It makes transformative use of Star Trek and is intended only for noncommercial purposes. This work makes "fair use" of Star Trek copyrighted material; it is not intended to infringe on the intellectual property rights of Paramount, Viacom or other owners of copyright in Star Trek or any of their assignees or licensees. The author's copyright extends only to the original material in this work. No monetary value can be assessed due to the fact that there was no payment exchanged for this material.
Archive: Okay to archive in COCO-SSD and ASCEM only provided that header, disclaimers, my name, and email address is attached. All others, please ask. My email address is -- TThrill1612@aol.com
Acknowledgements - Selek, who has spent literally hours pouring over this series. These were the first stories I attempted, and in preparing to post sequels, I wanted to rework these very rough earlier parts. His time, patience, and talents have been invaluable to me. And Marcee, who spent an evening of IM’s discussing scenes that were giving me problems and offering wonderful suggestions. Thanks to both of you.
“Starlights”
Chapter 1
Sitting in the seat of the hovercar, he pulled the thin material around him. He had found it in one of the storage compartments and presumed it was supposed to be some type of a blanket, but it wasn’t nearly thick enough to keep the nighttime chill away. “This damned planet is supposed to be hot!” Leonard McCoy grumbled to himself as he strained once more to see the nearly invisible entrance to the structure that was located just meters outside of the shuttle’s window. “At least that’s what Spock always said. Green-bloodied son-of-a-bitch! That’s the last time I believe anything he tells me! Well, presuming I get to talk to him at all!” He looked at the control panel and considered powering up the vehicle and seeing if he could locate some type of warming unit. But if he’d read the instruments correctly, the aircar had less than half of its original charge remaining. He didn’t know what daybreak would bring, but he knew he may need all of the power he had left.
“You know, if anyone sees me sittin’ here talking to myself, they’ll probably just dismiss me as some raving lunatic. But, what the hell! No one else has bothered to listen to me lately!” He pulled the material over his head, tucked it around his neck, grasped it firmly in front of him and settled back in the less than comfortable seat.
After arriving in the area late the evening before, it had taken him over an hour to locate the structure. Searching was made that much more difficult by the billows of steam that seemed to rise from the bowels of the planet as if, just beneath the surface, the rocks were bleeding what little moisture they contained into the hot, dry air. After landing the aircar, a real feat since the control panel was in Vulcan symbols and he wasn’t the experienced pilot he professed to be when he rented the thing, he had wasted another hour searching the edifice for any entrance that would lead to the inside. Finally spotting a small break in the solid wall, he decided that this must be the entrance and he cautiously approached it. Upon close examination, he located a small hole carved into the side with a metal ring protruding from the cavity. There was something just above the opening and he ran his fingers over it. The red dust spilled from the objects, which he discovered were more of the blasted Vulcan symbols. Having no clue to their meaning, he looked around and shrugged. “What the hell,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled on the ring.
For several minutes, there was no response, no indication at all that his presence had been noticed. Just about the time he had decided to explore further, he heard the sound of the heavy door being opened. A robed Vulcan male with ancient, chiseled features that made him seem as old as the structure he emerged from, stepped through the narrow opening.
The Vulcan said nothing, but bowed ever so slightly. Whether it was from the thin air, or from the fact he had so much that he wanted to say quickly, he wasn’t sure, but McCoy’s words tumbled from him in a breathy rush. “I’m Leonard McCoy…Doctor Leonard McCoy, from Starfleet. I understand that you have a student here, Spock, son of Sarek. It’s important that I speak with him. It’s regarding a most urgent matter.”
The ancient Vulcan seemed to carefully contemplate his words before he calmly replied. “These are the hours of meditation, Doctor Leonard McCoy. However, the matter will be considered following morning ritual. You will be advised at that time as to the outcome of your request.” With that, the Vulcan turned and disappeared through the door, closing it behind him, once more nearly concealing the entrance from detection. McCoy stood staring at the impenetrable entrance for several minutes. Because of the deep clank that sounded when the door was closed, he realized it was composed of some type of thick, heavy metal, stained to the color of the desert by unknown centuries of being beaten by the wind and red sand. Whatever this place was, it was certainly designed to keep anyone out, or in, as was this case.
In the last four days he had traveled from Earth to Vulcan and then to this god-forsaken part of the desert. Many hours had been spent making up an elaborate ruse to tell to whomever he had to, to let him in to see Spock. In the end, he had decided to just keep it simple. He was from Starfleet and needed to see Spock regarding an urgent matter. Of course, even that wasn’t the truth. As of five days ago, he had resigned his commission with Starfleet and this was certainly no ‘Fleet sanctioned mission.
Seeing no alternative, and feeling the unexpected coolness of the evening as the sun disappeared behind the towering mountains, he had returned to the shuttle. He had considered returning to Shi'kahr to find lodging for the evening, but decided against it. He wasn’t sure just how early the morning ritual was, but he was not going to risk missing this one opportunity should it arise. And he was running on pure adrenaline. He knew that wherever he stayed, rest would not come easily. His future hinged on what was happening behind those walls. He decided the shuttle would suffice. It was a decision he regretted more than once, as the desert grew colder and the night grew longer. Shifting himself once more in the seat, he finally drifted into a restless sleep.
The orange sun rose over the horizon and the bright glow roused him out of the dull, dreamless state he had been in for the last three hours. He stood up and stretched, trying to relax the knotted muscles in his neck and back. Searching the cabin for anything to drink, he found a storage cabinet containing several bottles of a greenish-blue liquid marked, again, with Vulcan writing. However he did recognized it as a drink he had seen being consumed in the transportation center when he had arrived on the planet the day before.
Shaking the container and watching small bubbles form inside, he popped the seal. He smelled the faint, fruity odor, shrugged and sighed. ‘Oh well, it’s liquid,’ he thought, and tipped the rim of the container to his lips. Its taste was best described as a thick, sweet, slightly fermented, pineapple-apricot juice. Not bad, but it wouldn’t do much to quench his thirst. A good shot of bourbon would have been even better, but he’d had too many of those lately. Attempting to get the taste of the red dust out of his mouth, he continued sipping the concoction.
Looking up at the towering stone walls, even in the light of the early morning it was difficult to see exactly where the entrance was set into the red rock. As the morning light became more intense, he continued watching the structure that seemed to blend into the mountain behind. He wondered if a decision had been made on whether or not he would be allowed to see to him. What would he say if he did get the chance? Would professing his love for the Vulcan and asking him to return to Earth with him mean anything? Earth, hell! Leonard knew he would stay here on Vulcan, or spend the rest of his life traveling the Antares Triangle, if that’s what Spock wanted to do. He didn’t care where they lived, just so long as it was together.
Would he be able to keep his temper in check when he saw him? He was so damned mad at Spock for the way he’d left, that he had to remind himself not start yelling the minute the opportunity presented itself. There would time enough later to give the Vulcan a good, old-fashioned dressing down, he hoped. No, he would use this time to profess all of those feeling that he had, not so successfully, kept a lid on all these years.
Still sipping the much too sweet potion, he realized the heat from the sun reflecting off the desert floor would soon make his stay here unbearable. Standing within the shade of the hovercar, he decided to try again to make an appeal to the gatekeeper. McCoy had no idea what the morning ritual was, or what time it would be over, but a patient man he’d never claimed to be.
As he rounded the corner of the shuttle and stepped into the harsh, bright orange heat of the Vulcan day, something caught his eye. Focusing his attention toward the motion, he turned to see the same Vulcan he had spoken with the previous evening emerging from the opening in the structure. McCoy ran the twenty meters or so to the entrance.
Stopping before the man, and taking a moment to catch his breath, he started to speak, but before he could ask anything the Vulcan bowed slightly and stated, “Your request has been denied.”
He turned as McCoy was saying quickly, between panting breaths, “But--it’s extremely urgent that I speak with him! Does he know I’m here? Answer me, does Spock--” the door closed with a metallic clang that rang the finality of the decision into the stillness of the desert air. He desperately pulled at the ring over and over, until blisters began to form in the creases of his fingers, but this time there was no acknowledgment of his presence. Before leaving Earth, he had known this trip was a futile attempt at the impossible, but he knew he had to try. He had convinced himself that if Spock knew he was here, he couldn’t refuse to see him. But, like so many other things recently, he had been wrong in that assumption too.
McCoy thought of one person who might have been able to intercede in this matter. He had contacted Sarek as soon as he found out about Spock’s intentions, hoping to enlist his help in stopping him. But he was advised in no uncertain terms, that this was Spock’s decision. Sarek made it clear that, even though he may not agree with his son’s decision, he would do nothing to interfere. McCoy had asked if there was any other recourse, knowing the tone in his voice reveled the blatant emotionalism of his plea. Well, at this point, he didn’t give a shit who he had to humble himself to. He was determined to do everything in his power to stop this insanity.
Sarek had advised McCoy that an appeal directly to the Masters of Gol would be his only possibility, albeit a slim one, to speak with Spock. He did state that Gol was a life-long commitment and few in Vulcan’s history had ever chosen to leave once they were committed to a life within the order.
“Spock--why?” he whispered, looking up at what appeared to be a solid wall that seemingly joined the sky above to the rock beneath his feet. The thought occurred to him to try to find a place to climb over, he had shimmied a few fences in his youth, but this fortress was far beyond anything he had ever encountered in his early years. Banging his fists once against the impenetrable door, he slumped against it. McCoy, his shoulders fallen with the weight of defeat, turned and walked back to the hovercar.
Glancing back once more toward the fortified structure, he felt the hot tears as they began to sting his eyes and spill onto his cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and then rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. Steeling himself against the degradation and disappointment, he stepped inside the vehicle. “All right you cold-hearted bastard, if this is the way you want it to end, so be it!” He turned the shuttle in the direction of Shi'kahr and never looked back. Not for the next two and a half years.
Chapter 2
Four days was all that it had taken. Four days to push Spock out of his life and see him leave for Vulcan. Four days to tell Leonard McCoy to leave him the hell alone, that it was none of Bones’ business what he chose to do. Four days to prove to the two of them that they had no control over him or his decisions. Four days to cave into the wishes of Starfleet and accept the title of Admiral James T. Kirk, Chief of Starfleet Operations.
James Kirk quickly found himself in the position of “Starfleet’s Golden Boy”. The workload as Chief of Starfleet Operations was time consuming and despite much grumbling from those around him, he attempted do as thorough a job as possible with each task assigned him. With effort, he could lose himself in the mundane, endless duties that now compiled his daily life. But most of what was required of him took little thought.
Right from the beginning, Admiral Komack, his immediate superior, made clear that his main duty was to show up at official functions and use his formidable powers of persuasion on any delegates that were considering joining, or threatening to leave, or had something to offer the Federation. If it took “charming” an emissary into acknowledging the Federation’s point of view, he was the one they called for. He wasn’t a diplomat by any stretch of the imagination; he didn’t even have the limited authority to negotiate deals that he had possessed as a Starship captain. No, his job was to turn on the charisma so the delegate would be more than willing to sit down with the Diplomatic Corp. The term he most often thought of, on the rare occasions that he let himself consider his situation at all, was James T. Kirk, Starfleet whore.
After many months of this, he began to compare himself to a character he had read about in one of the antique books he owned. It was the tale of an organ grinder’s monkey. This creature had been kept on a leash and when the organ grinder played a song, the monkey, dressed in bright colors, would work the crowd. It would do a simple dance and tip its hat for coins. That basically summed up what Jim Kirk had become.
He didn’t care. Since the end of the five-year mission, since Spock left, since McCoy had resigned and moved on, his life had become a series of doing the dance and tipping his hat. And, of course, fucking anything that came his way. Being Starfleet’s prized possession, it wasn’t hard to find warm bodies in which to lose himself. He never had to look too far for company. He was quite the star and a whole array of nameless women, and men, were more than willing to fall into bed with him. He found that frequent, emotionless, mindless sex was an adequate way to numb his brain and body against any unwanted memories that may want to slip into his consciousness.
He even found it quite amusing that during the time he served in space, his reputation for being a “Tom Cat” was mostly undeserved. It took being grounded for him to really become the wanton, promiscuous Kirk that everyone assumed he had been in his earlier years. Back then, there hadn’t been time to get into trouble, much, and his few exploits were greatly overblown. But since being assigned to Headquarters, he had done all in his power to live up to the reputation that preceded him.
He found out quickly that as long as he was accomplishing his goals, no one at Starfleet was going to yank his chain too hard. And he had learned to simply ignore that empty, cavernous hole inside. That place where affection, pride and anger used to live. Those feelings held no meaning for him now; held no place in this life. The only pleasure left to him was pleasure of the most basic sort.
Many times he would wake and not know whom he was curled next to. It had to be this way. Any form of self-induced physical relief was out of the question. The one scenario that could arouse him was the one memory he refused to allow. Alcohol or other mind-altering substances made him lose control, and that was something he could never again afford to do. Control at all times was mandatory. Without it, his mind could wander to events he did not want to relive. So, fucking was the answer. Male, female, individually, collectively, it didn’t really matter. James Kirk was always ready to rise to the occasion.
This was the life Jim had carved out for himself and, after more than two years, he couldn’t remember it being any different. His life on the Enterprise seemed like something unreal and far away.
Oh sure, he still recited the details of his adventures at every official function. That was what he was expected to do. Anyone who had dealings with the Federation had seen the vids of the mission and wanted to hear the details directly from the lips of the famous commander. So, a couple of times each week, he would find himself the center of attention, relaying the facts of one or more of his many exploits to some fat Ambassador whose planet could offer the Federation some rare mineral or base site, and he even managed to interject a modicum of emotion along with the fantastic tales.
And, if his lack of exuberance ever did show, his audience always believed this as nothing more than his modesty in regard to these incredible accomplishments. In reality, to Jim, it was if he were reciting tales about some other person in some other time. And so it went, never looking forward, refusing to look back, and merely existing from day to day. This worked for him until the day he was called into Komack’s office to discuss the Enterprise.
“Come in Admiral Kirk.” Jim watched as Admiral Komack motioned to a chair in front of the massive monstrosity that the admiral used as his desk. Jim had a fondness for antiques, and this was indeed old, but it was so large and ornate that it would best be described as twentieth-century gaudy. It did, however, perfectly match the man nearly hidden behind it. As he entered the senior man’s office, Jim saw the glimmer of a smile that exposed the razor-like edge of the too white, too short teeth and knew that a smile from this jackass meant nothing good.
Jim always noticed that in private, Komack would call him by his title, but at any given opportunity he would refer to him publicly as “Jim,” as if to undermine his holding the position of admiral. “Have a seat. I have the duty of advising you that we have selected the captain of the Enterprise. It will be announced this evening that Will Decker will be taking the center seat.”
‘Duty, my ass,’ Jim thought. Since the beginning, Komack had taken advantage of every given opportunity to ‘turn the knife’ in his gut and expected this news to make him crazy. Jim was well aware of the fact that this man loathed him. More than once, he had been overheard stating that Kirk had always managed to be in the right place at the right time and, as the youngest captain in the fleet, had spent five years flying around the galaxy to come home to the accolades of a conquering hero. Jim had heard Komack point out that although he had spent eighteen years at Starfleet, nine of those years as one of the Joint Chiefs, at the official functions it was always this ‘too young, too good looking, too reckless, boy,’ who everyone wanted to meet.
“Now that her overhaul is complete,” the senior admiral continued, still trying for a rise out of Kirk, but failing, “the Enterprise will be the most technologically advanced in the fleet. This will allow us to send this ship into areas of deep space that we have never before had the opportunity to explore. With all of this in mind, we have decided that Decker is the man for the job.” The smirk on Komack’s face said much more than the words. He expected the great James Kirk to request, even demand, that he be given back the Enterprise.
“An excellent choice, Admiral,” Jim stated flatly.
Jim was not surprised. He knew a sitting admiral would never be given the command of a starship. He enjoyed the disappointment on Komack’s face when he gave no argument about the assignment. What this pompous ass did not realize was that it was Jim who had recommended Will Decker to Admiral Nogura. After being refused for the assignment himself, he told Nogura that Decker would be the best available choice for the captain’s chair.
He had followed Will’s progress these last years. Jim had known his father, for good and for bad, and had been there when Matt Decker, in the grips of near insanity, had given his life in an attempt to destroy the Doomsday machine. Will was young, well, not so young as Kirk was when he took command, but young nonetheless, and had been assigned to oversee the refit. Jim felt that since Will was the one most familiar with the ship, and was fully rated in all areas, that he was the most capable of all the candidates. Jim would have never recommended him otherwise, but he also felt he owed this to the young man who had lost his father to deep space.
The grin had completely faded from Komack’s sharp-featured face. “The refit should be completed within the next four weeks. We will need you to arrange the crew assignments for the remaining officer positions that have been left open. Of course, Montgomery Scott has remained with the Enterprise during the refit and will be staying on as chief engineer. And most of the senior crew from the previous mission has applied to be assigned back to the ship. I will leave those decisions up to you, but we need to have those positions filled within the week.” It was obvious that not having him raise any argument had ruined Komack’s day. He quickly dismissed Jim and acted as if he was too busy for any further discussions.
Letting a smile play on his lips, the result of some amount of satisfaction, Jim left the admiral’s office and returned to his own. Jim spent the next days filling each position just as he would for any Constellation Class starship expedition, not thinking about this as the Enterprise. When he spoke with Will, he had told him he was envious. It was a statement that he was sorry for as soon as he had said it. It was a moment of letting his guard down and something he was determined not to let happen again. Even though he knew that he would have to speak to certain officers who had comprised his old crew, he delayed that as long as possible. In the last few days, he had completed all of the assignments except for the returning crew, but the day came when it could be put off no longer.
Nyota Uhura seemed genuinely glad to hear from her former commander. Jim told her that she had been given the reassignment to the Enterprise as communications officer, and advised her that Will Decker would be the captain for this mission. She stated that even though she had heard the rumors that he would not be returning, it saddened her to hear Kirk would be missing from the center seat. He replied simply that his current position would preclude him from taking command. Jim was aware that his tone was very matter-of-fact, no emotion, no sound of chatting with an old friend, no small talk, just details.
“Will I see you before we leave, Admiral?” she asked him.
“I’m sure I’ll be onboard prior to launching. Perhaps we’ll see each other then.” With that, he closed the conversation. It had been even harder than he had expected. Seeing this lovely woman's face brought back memories that he had spent years fighting to suppress. He knew he had sounded much too formal with her, but he knew that informality would have encouraged questions, either personally or professionally, that he was unprepared to answer.
Keying off the view screen, he reached for a bottle of Scotch that was stored in the back of the bottom drawer. It had been a gift from Scotty on the day they announced his promotion. It had remained unopened. Now seemed to be the time. He poured a hefty glass of the concoction and tossed it down his throat, feeling the burn that descended toward the unsuspecting lining of his stomach. After drinking his courage, he turned back to the task at hand.
The conversations with Sulu and Chekov went basically the same. Gratefully, neither one had mentioned him taking over the center seat. Jim assumed they had already spoken with Nyota, and was glad to not have been questioned regarding the specifics. Those four, Scotty included, had always been very close. He assumed that had not changed. There had always been speculation as to how close the four of them were, but as long as Starfleet saw no problems with their performance, and chain of command did not become an issue, the closeness of the relationship was never Jim’s concern. At any rate, the four friends would be reunited in two days. Anything beyond that was now a matter for Decker. Having faced the most difficult of the assignments, the next five days turned into a flurry of crew replacements, equipment logs and endless meetings.
Chapter 3
It was late evening when Jim arrived at his apartment. Not in the mood for companionship, he had resolved to spend the night alone and have something delivered to eat. Now that he was stationed in San Francisco, he had actually become quite a good cook. It was one facet of his life he did get some satisfaction from; maybe because it was the furthest thing from the replicated food he had spent all of his adulthood eating. Or, maybe because when he was concentrating on the preparation process, it left little time for his mind to wander. Whatever the case, it was too late, and he was too tired to plan and prepare a meal. He decided on Chinese, palmed the order into the comm unit and went to the kitchen to brew some tea. By the time the tea was ready, the signal chimed indicating the courier had arrived with his order. He keyed the access for the lift and, when the door slid opened, he took his dinner from the robot, sliding his chit into the slot for payment.
Walking toward the dining table, he glanced at the six chairs that surrounded it and decided against sitting there tonight. It did not usually bother him to eat alone, but after spending the last week looking at familiar faces, the empty chairs seemed to emphasize his self-imposed solitude. He took his cup and plate to one the seats nearest the large window that overlooked the view of the city. He commanded the lights to one-fifth so he could fully appreciate the sight of San Francisco Bay from his position. But instead of looking toward the city, he found himself looking toward the sky.
Although very faint, he could pick out the indicative soft blue glow. This was all that could be seen from Earth of the space dock above. This area could hold up to four Constellation Class ships, along with numerous other shuttles and transports. There were living quarters enough to comfortably house over one thousand families as well as a medical facility, a school, and a supply center. All of that, and more, compiled the faint group of bluish lights hovering in the night sky. The activity there was never ending. It held an excitement all its own. Adventures just completed and the promise of new and even more exciting ones yet to come.
Finding that he wasn’t very hungry, he picked at the plate of food, actually eating only a couple of bites. It was these damned reassignments that had him feeling agitated and, because of them, he hadn’t been in the best of moods for several days. Just this afternoon he had snapped at his assistant, Lt. Daniel Moricy, over a scheduling conflict. Moricy had been an excellent assistant since being assigned to Jim, and the error had not been Daniel’s, but another aide who had failed to advise the Lieutenant that a meeting had been posted to the schedule. When Daniel had advised him that he was expected in two places at the same time, Jim had jumped down his throat. After leaving the latest of the afternoon meetings, he discovered Dan had left the complex. Jim knew an apology was in order, and had been unable to address the situation. He always liked to handle any personnel issues the same day. A lesson learned from years of working in tight quarters with a starship crew.
Feeling very restless, and still unable to eat more than just a bite or two, he was beginning to question his decision to stay in tonight. He liked to drown himself in the after dark activities in the Club District. He wasn’t much of a drinker these days, but he enjoyed the company he met there, which consisted of people who were mostly just out for casual associations. Casual relationships were exactly what he looked for, as many as he could find.
One woman he had met was perfect. She wanted no strings. She told him she wanted to be free to bed anyone she wished without the responsibility of an exclusive relationship. They had been meeting each other for about six months, yet neither had told the other anything about themselves. And, although he was fairly certain that she knew who he was, most who had not spent the last years in seclusion did, his position was never discussed. She was Shayan, and he was Jim, and that was as personal as it got.
One or the other would leave a message on a posting board as to what club they would be going to that evening and, if the other happened to be available, they would meet there. They always ended up either in one of the communal rooms offered at most of the establishments, or at one of the hotels in the area. Neither had ever taken the other to their home. The things she could do with her mouth were unbelievable. That lady could “give a blowjob that would melt your mustache,” as Bones used to say. ‘Bones...’ Jim thought wistfully, feeling the warmth that seemed to accompany that name. Well, that was enough of thinking about him!
He went back to reflecting on the encounters he would have with Shayan. He felt his groin come alive and hoped this would bring him that which he needed. He discarded his clothes, doused the lights, and sat in the dark rubbing his erection and concentrated on how she would fuck him.
Sitting on top of him, her slick heat surrounding him, she would bring him to full arousal inside of her, contracting the walls of her vagina with each stroke as she rocked back and forth. Her orgasms would milk his cock inside of her heated channel. She always sensed the exact moment that his body would move toward ejaculation and she would bend over him, raising her hips, until his cock slid out of her.
Her tongue, starting at his neck, would move down his body, tease each nipple, slide down his chest and across his abdomen, ring his navel and trail a path to the base of his aching shaft. Finally reaching his straining organ, he would all but explode as her mouth lightly circled the sensitive head. With long strokes, the tip of her tongue would slide up and down his shaft, tracing each bulging vein. She would lap at the small slit and suck down the droplets of precum as they formed at the tip. Licking her way down to his testicles, she would carefully take each into her mouth gently sucking on them.
In the darkness of his apartment, his strokes on his own organ became faster with these recollections.
With his testicles bathed in her saliva, she would then return her attention to his throbbing dick. Starting at the base, she would nibble up the tender underside until she reached the head. Just when he couldn’t take it any longer, she would swallow the whole shaft, the back of her tongue massaging the sensitive area just behind the ridge and he would explode into her.
Looking down at his cock, he realized that instead of having an orgasm, he was becoming flaccid. Once again, the ability to masturbate had escaped him. His balls hurt from the pressure that had found no release.
Giving up, he released the hold he had on his organ. After his breathing had returned to normal, he reached for the cup of tea. He held the cup to his lips and the aroma filled his nose. He looked back to the lights in the night sky. Friends, joys, sorrows, beginnings, endings, black sky, blue lights…black hair, blue eyes--Spock’s black hair and McCoy’s ice blue eyes. ‘OH GOD, DON'T DO THIS!’ he silently screamed to no one, mentally grasping for anything that would stop the feelings that were so painful. He felt himself plummeting through the gossamer thin scar that had so very neatly formed inside, finding that there was nothing to seize onto to keep him from sliding down into the well of memories. And the feelings he had hidden away for so long flooded him. The realization that he was forever shut away from the life he loved, the ones he loved, hit him square in the center of his gut.
He didn’t realize that he had gone from sitting in the chair to his knees on the floor until he began to retch from the few bites of food he had eaten. Slumped over, he rocked back and forth for several minutes, his elbows propped on his thighs, his head bent and his fingers pressing hard against his forehead as if trying to physically reach inside his skull and stop the flood of images. Finally, slowly, pulling himself together, he was able to stand. His foot contacted wetness on the rug and he realized the cup had spilled beside him. He went to the kitchen and retrieved a cloth to absorb the liquid. All the while, he cursed himself for allowing these carefully suppressed memories to surface.
He knelt down to blot the tea from the carpet and picked up the cup. He remembered how he, in that life so very long ago, had loved having tea with the two of them. That was how it started, tea in Spock’s quarters. As he sat there staring at the cup, the newly reopened memories consumed him.
Chapter 4
Having just passed his fifth year as commander of the Enterprise, he had been ordered back to Earth Central where his ship would be brought into space dock for a complete refit. He couldn’t get an exact answer, but it was approximated that the new modifications would take a year, possibly more, to complete. For the duration of the overhaul, all but the refit team would be placed on temporary reassignment in the quadrant. Most crewmembers received their orders almost immediately, however the senior officers, himself included, had yet to be advised where they would be assigned. There was something in the communiqués he had received from Admiral Komack that sent shivers down his spine. He suspected there was something this man was keeping from him.
As the days grew shorter, Jim knew he should already have the information on the new ship that he would be commanding. Time was becoming a real concern. He needed to familiarize himself with the mission information prior to taking over, as well as request crew assignments. When Jim approached the subject with Komack, pointing out that his crew’s orders would change if he requested them for the new mission, the admiral had been very evasive.
Kirk didn’t trust the man. There had been too many times that Komack had failed him and his crew. And to have this man in control of his next assignment made him very uncomfortable. But he tried to brush it off as normal jitters. Knowing himself as well as he did, he understood that part of the apprehension he was feeling was coming from the fact that he hated having anyone control him. It was the reason he made a good deep-space captain, and the reason that being this close to the upper echelons made him so nervous.
These five years had passed so quickly. What this crew had accomplished was phenomenal, and Jim was well aware that he was the commanding force that led them. He had the confidence, the style, and the intellect that had made this voyage a resounding success. And he had Spock and McCoy at his side to guide him in the, albeit rare occasions when he was wrong.
Somewhere during this voyage, he had started to allow his thoughts to wander to something more between his first officer, chief medical officer and himself. Although technically it was against Starfleet rules, his major reason for never approaching either was that he had no desire to ruin the friendship they shared. On deep-space missions, there are always relationships that officially break rules, but as long as no one felt that they were being coerced, Jim didn’t mind who was sleeping with whom. With the few, rare situations that did arise where a crewmember felt compelled to engage in activities through threats or intimidation, Kirk handled the matter swiftly, decisively and permanently. He stood for none of that on his watch. But consensual sex…hell, as long as everyone reported to duty on time and uninjured, so be it.
But he had found it unnerving the first time he had been tempted to press his lips to Spock’s. It had been a grueling mission. The transport of so many Ambassadors and planetary officials with so many cultural differences, in itself, was a logistical nightmare. But to discover that the Vulcan Ambassador and his wife were Spock’s parents, had been the biggest surprise of all. More that that, he had felt hurt that Spock had never confided this to him. Before he had a chance to discuss this with his first officer, the mission became the things nightmares are made of.
Almost immediately there had commenced a series of infighting and physical attacks, the murder of the Tellerite Ambassador, the accusation of Sarek as the murderer and a brief, but significant, run-in with an Orion scoutship. Then there was the possibility of Sarek’s death and the necessary transfusion that only Spock could give. Many, McCoy and Spock’s mother, Amanda, included, thought Spock a cold son-of-a-bitch for not giving up command so the surgery could take place.
It was the first time he felt the connection to Spock that others missed. Jim could see the pain beneath those dark eyes and realized why Spock had never been able to confide in anyone, even him, about the relationship with his parents. He was being pulled apart between the Terran and Vulcan halves of himself. Was this what he had dealt with all of his life? It was the first time he wanted to go to his friend, put his arms around those broad shoulders and comfort him. Barely able to stand after being stabbed, he insisted on going to the bridge to free up Spock for the surgery. With every labored breath, he felt the need to do anything in his power to relieve the conflict within that beautiful, troubled mind. Even after the delegates had been delivered, and all wounds healed, he could feel the uneasiness that still bubbled within his comrade.
Several days later, they had just completed a grueling work out in the gym when he turned and found Spock’s face just inches from his own. For just a moment, he could imagine himself putting his hand on the back of the graceful neck and pulling that mouth to his. A brief flick of a dark eyebrow nearly caused him to give into the urge as he felt the wind being sucked out of him. Instead, turning quickly, he made a hasty retreat to his cabin. It was not the last time he would be so tempted, nor would it be the last time that particular person would play a major role in his fantasies as he lay on his bunk. However, after that encounter, the pain within those eyes seemed to lessen somehow. Maybe they had made a connection at that moment, each realizing that whatever they faced, they did not have to face it alone.
From that time on, they seemed to fall into step with each other a bit quicker, to read each other’s thoughts a little clearer, to anticipate each other’s moves a little faster. Even knowing that the desires he secretly felt would never be realized did not diminish the satisfaction he felt with Spock at his side. This, a slow understanding that he was falling in love with his Vulcan first officer, was pleasant and fulfilling. Not like the thunderbolt that hit him with another.
Almost from the first minute he had met McCoy, he had felt the camaraderie that would exist between them. Bones was the alter ego that he needed to temper his ‘take it to the edge’ personality. The doctor was a source of endless advice, mostly sound, and was always willing to lend an ear and an opinion. A quick wit and a heart of pure gold moderated the cantankerousness that all aboard got joy from, all but the stoic Mr. Spock.
From the beginning, Spock and McCoy began to butt heads over almost every conceivable subject, and always concluded with the same never-ending debate involving the benefits of emotionalism versus logical ideology. Neither man was prone to give in easily and the arguments that ensued were legendary. And so it went for the first three years they served together, the three of them the closest of friends, even if it would have killed either Spock or McCoy to admit it, and Jim playing the role of peacemaker.
Then came the day Jim was called to sickbay for the report on the mandatory yearly physical exams that had been completed on all crewmembers. All were healthy with the exception that one had contracted xenopolysythemia. Jim knew there was no cure for this disease and when Bones had finally told him that he was the crewmember who has less than a year to live, Jim felt his body go numb.
As much as he would have hated to hear this about any of his crew, he could not believe he was going to lose Bones. Not this man who had become the other part of himself. Not this man he loved! And there it was, the truth that he had not been willing to admit to himself. In one blood-chilling moment, he realized he also loved Leonard McCoy, and he was going to have to cope with giving him up to an enemy he had no control over. He knew damned well how to attack a predator that threatened them in the vastness of space, but he couldn’t aim a photon torpedo at the disease that was ravaging his friend.
Before he had time to fully cope with these new feelings, they encountered an asteroid that was on a collision course with a Federation planet, Daran V. Discovering the asteroid was actually a hollow ship disguised as a planet, the purpose of which was to transport the Yonadan people toward their new homeworld, they met Natira.
Leonard had chosen to remain on the planet and spend his last days with these people as Natira’s mate. Jim, although aware that the planet-ship may have to be destroyed, reluctantly accepted Leonard’s decision and decided against voicing his feelings. He did not wish to cause this gentle man any more emotional conflict than that with which he was already dealing. Leaving Bones inside the man-made asteroid, the next hours were spent trailing it, attempting to discover a way to alter its path, despite Starfleet’s demands that they leave McCoy behind.
It wasn’t the first sleepless night Jim had spent after defying Starfleet orders in an attempt to save a member of his crew. It had been a sleepless night for both Jim and Spock as they searched for an answer that would save not only the Yonadans and those on Daran V, but also their friend. Watching Spock work tirelessly toward a solution only increased the feelings he secretly held for this man, and for the man he knew, in one way or another, he would soon lose.
It had been Bones, himself, who had found the manual detailing the controls and the key to solving the problem. But in doing so, he broke the vows he had taken with Natira. After setting the asteroid-ship back on its intended course, and Spock discovering a cure for the xenopolysythemia in the Yonadan computer banks, McCoy decided against renewing his vows with the woman. Jim hoped it was because Leonard had discovered that his love could be better directed. But if that was the reason, the words were never spoken between them. The time never seemed right for such declarations and what the three found together was, in many ways, more fulfilling that any physical relationship could be, or so Jim convinced himself. Then, as they were headed toward an uncertain future with the ending of the five-year mission, there was an evening when it all changed.
Spock and he had played chess that evening after dinner. Neither had played their best game. Jim knew his thoughts were elsewhere, and it seemed that Spock was in the same state. Kirk kept looking at Spock as he was contemplating his moves. How many times had Jim seen him like this? His graceful fingers were steepled in front of him with his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, the lights in the rec room shinning on, what appeared to be under this illumination, his jet-black hair. As Spock moved a piece to the top of the 3-D configuration, Jim wondered how many times had he wanted to suggest that their relationship move to the next level. How many times had he pushed such thoughts away, deciding that what they had was much too valuable to risk?
Watching the graceful Vulcan, he reflected on their years together. What he had found after his rapid rise through the ranks, and assignment as captain of the Enterprise, were two who made him emotionally whole. Spock and Bones had, right from the first few days of the voyage, become his true friends, his confidants. As the months and years passed, they had become more than friends; they were the completion of his very being.
McCoy had joined them in the rec room that night. It seemed as if they were all feeling apprehensive about the end of the mission. Word on their reassignments still hadn’t come through and there were no guarantees that Starfleet would assign them together during the refit. Jim did feel that he had enough clout that he would have some say in the matter, but nothing was ever a sure thing when the paper pushers became involved.
“Well, I sure don’t feel like turnin’ in,” stated McCoy after the chess game had concluded. In reflecting back on these events, Jim couldn’t remember who had won that particular match. But he remembered Bones had sounded his most Southern when he had drawled, “I feel like someone’s put itchin’ powder down my drawers.”
Both Jim and McCoy looked at Spock, expecting the usual repartee to begin between the two of them, but instead, Spock said, “I obtained a variety of teas during our stopover on Masaron II. I would be most pleased to share them if you gentlemen would like to retire to my quarters.”
“Sir, I’d be delighted,” McCoy had stated emphatically, maybe too much so, Jim later thought.
“Sounds good to me, too,” Jim agreed.
The three of them walked in silence to the door of Spock’s cabin, which was just one door down from Jim’s. Jim had been here countless times in the past five years. There was small area separating the cabins they had turned into a place that could be used for either chess or private discussions. Using this path to access each other’s quarters had become quite comfortable to both of them over the years. The access doors, with only a few exceptions when complete privacy was desired, had remained unlocked since the beginning. As Spock palmed the control on the main corridor, Jim prepared himself for the blast of heat that would radiate from the cabin. Pleasantly, he found that the temperature, while still quite warm, was not as high as he expected.
The décor of the main part of this room had changed over the years. What had begun as a typical, industrial-style area, Spock had transformed into an area that more closely represented his Vulcan heritage. Gone were the standard chairs that were furnished with each cabin. Several large, soft woven mats that could be used for either sitting or meditating, had replaced them. There was a firepot in the corner of the room, a group of paintings representing the various stages of Vulcan evolution hung together along one wall, and several pieces of ancient Vulcan weapons were secured to another. The mesh screen that separated the sleeping area from the main room had been covered in a fine cloth, adding to the restful, elegant feeling in the cabin.
All removed their boots and Jim and McCoy seated themselves on the mats as Spock went to the replicator and ordered a carafe of hot water. He reached for three cups from the shelf above and carefully lifted thin pouches from a fragile wrapper and placed one packet into each cup. A container of steaming liquid slid from the opening in the wall and Spock poured the hot water into each cup. Jim couldn’t help but watch the long, delicate fingers as they moved precisely in the preparation process. Even something as simple as making tea was a graceful ritual to this man.
In a few moments, Spock handed them each a fragile cup, each lightly adorned with carvings of Vulcan figures. The steam arising from each bathed the room with the odor of the wonderfully aromatic liquid. McCoy inhaled, and with a slightly wicked smile toward Spock, he exclaimed, “Why Spock! Do I detect the aroma of ginseng and cinnamon? Now, ya know what that combination’s s’posed to do to humans, don’t ya?”
“Doctor, I am aware that according to certain herbalists, the combination of those ingredients in large quantities are suppose to act as an aphrodisiac. I am certain, however, that the amount of those particular spices found here would not qualify as sufficient for that purpose.”
Chapter 5
Jim was sitting on the floor in Spock’s cabin and watching the interaction between Spock and McCoy. An aphrodisiac! He certainly didn’t need something like that this evening! God, he was so attracted to both of these men that being here with them like this, relaxed and almost playful, formed a knot in the pit of his stomach. There was Bones with his rugged demeanor, quick wit, and kind soul, not to mention the bluest dammed eyes in the galaxy! How many fantasies had he conjured up about the things they could do on one of the diagnostic beds in sickbay?
And there was Spock with his sensitivity, graceful lines and beautiful spirit. This was the reason he could never suggest a relationship with them. How in the hell could he ever choose one over the other? But God, it would feel so good to lose himself to either one of these men. ‘Damnit Kirk, get a hold of yourself!’ he silently commanded himself. ‘Don’t do anything to screw this up! You’ve managed to hide these feelings for years. This is not the time to give yourself away!’
Spock sat down to the right of Jim with his knee just barley touching Jim’s thigh. Bones was seated to his left just a few inches away. There was some retort to Spock’s comment, but Jim was too busy trying to clear his thoughts to be able to concentrate on the remark. He could feel the heat from Spock’s knee radiating through the material of his uniform trousers and creeping up his leg. Proximity to each other was something that they had grown accustomed to.
At one time, Spock had an invisible arm’s length ‘no man’s land’ around him, which no one dared to invade. However, after years of close contact, that need for space no longer existed between the three of them. Jim had noticed some time ago that Spock was no longer repelled by the touch of either him or Bones. On the contrary, he seemed to be at his most relaxed state when he was physically close to them. There were times when he even initiated the contact himself by casually placing those heated hands on one of their shoulders or biceps. Such a touch had almost undone Jim more than once.
Jim allowed his eyes to wander down the Vulcan’s body. The strong, muscular chest and the forest of hair that he knew was lying just beneath the regulation shirt, now seemed too close to ignore. He had seen this man shirtless in the gym enough to know the hair thinned around the dark, olive tinged nipples and transformed into a slender line that disappeared into his waistband. How many times had he fantasized about following that line of hair to see where it took him? When they worked out, Jim would feel this heated body on his, feel the firm mass of Spock’s groin pressing against him, and had often wondered what it would feel like if the thin, stretchy material that comprised the regulation exercise pants would suddenly disappear. In the few times he had seen Spock briefly naked, he had not been able to study him as completely as he would have liked to.
Jim realized that his body was taking over where his mind left off and that he had a growing bulge in his pants. He knew he had to get out of this room, away from these men, but to stand up now would not be wise. He wanted nothing more than to make a run for the passage to his cabin, close the door and, using whatever fantasy necessary, regain his composure. Instead, he drew his knees up in front of him in an attempt to hide his growing problem. ‘Discipline, damnit! Just concentrate on the conversation,’ he demanded of himself. However, the discussion was over. Jim had no idea which man came out on top of this particular debate. Jim took a sip of the tea and looked at Spock, who was looking back with those dark eyes that seemed more dilated than usual.
Jim knew he had to say something to get his mind focused in a different direction. “Have you considered where you want to be assigned during the overhaul, Spock?” he asked. They had discussed this before, and he knew the question was a redundant one, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment.
Spock said nothing. Keeping direct eye contact, he moved from the sitting position to his knees and sat back on his heels directly in front of Jim. He sat his cup aside and placed his entwined hands in his lap. “Jim, I do not wish to discuss assignments this evening. There is, however, a matter I wish to discuss with you, and I believe that this may be the last opportunity I will have to do so.”
Jim glanced toward Bones and noticed that the doctor looked down at the cup clutched in his hand and began to trace the delicate carvings with his finger. Did he suddenly seem nervous? Jim knew Spock well enough to know that once he had decided to state his views on a particular subject, no prodding was necessary. He turned his attention to the solemn man who was perched on his heels in front of him.
“Jim, I have served with the two of you for these past years and I have had physical contact with each of you on many occasions. As you know, being a touch telepath, I can sense thoughts, and occasionally emotions, emanating from the one whom I am in contact with. In addition to that, we have mind melded on several occasions in the past. Because of this, there is a link that exists between us that makes me more susceptible to your thoughts and emotions when we have any type of physical contact.”
Even though the temperature was set lower than normal, Jim was suddenly feeling the heat in Spock’s cabin. He knew he needed to get up and get out of here, but his problem had not diminished. Quite the opposite, he now had a full-blown hard-on. He clutched his knees tighter together.
“Jim,” Spock continued, “I have been aware of your wish that the relationship you currently have with McCoy and myself develop into something more. I have been hesitant to discuss this with you, waiting instead for you to choose to come to one of us. However, given the fact that this mission will be ending in three solar days, I have come to the conclusion that to wait for you to approach either of us is no longer a viable option. Therefore, I am allowing you this opportunity to voice any such desires.”
Jim felt himself flush. He hadn’t kept his feelings to himself at all. Spock was kneeling in front of him, openly stating all that he had fought to hide. He pried his eyes away from Spock and looked quickly toward Bones. The doctor had taken a position of being stretched out on his side, propped up on one elbow, grinning, and thoroughly enjoying the scene being played out in front of him. “C'mon Spock,” Leonard said with the deep-southern inflection that seemed to be so natural to him when he was off-duty and relaxed, “don’t make it sound so much like roses and candlelight! How the hell do ya expect a guy to refuse a romantic offer like that?”
Jim would have laughed if this weren’t so damned embarrassing. He looked back at the man in front of him. “Spock,” Jim hesitated, shaking his head slightly in disbelief of what he was hearing. “I’ll admit that I’ve have had…feelings…thoughts…about you, both of you. I think that's only natural because of the time we've been together these last years. But, I’m still the captain of this ship. Anything other than friendship would be completely inappropriate.” He knew he was crawling behind the stripes on his sleeve, but he hoped that would stop this right here. It didn’t.
Bones piped up with, “That’s not an answer, Jim.”
Jim flashed him a quick disapproving look. He didn’t need Bones picking apart his objections to this discussion. Spock raised his eyebrow and Jim knew that he, too, was not going to be satisfied by this. “Look,” Jim continued, “if you are asking who I would choose, that’s not a fair question. But since it’s a moot point, let’s drop it, okay?”
“Jim, you misunderstand. I am not asking you to choose between us.” Spock’s voice became deep and soft and seemed to caress Jim as if warm honey was being poured over him. Spock moved his hands from their resting position and placed them on Jim’s knees. The heat from those hands shot sparks of desire racing throughout Kirk’s body. “We have seen you in the throws of delirium, fever, sorrow, anger, joy, passion and every other conceivable condition during these five years. I am asking that you stop hiding your desire,” he paused, and with the slightest effort he spread the clutched knees apart and glanced down at the bulge, then looked back into Jim’s eyes, “from us.”
At that, Spock removed his hand from one knee and, using only the back of his fingertips, he brushed lightly against the now fully engorged bulge. “Do you not understand that these feelings are common to us all? Do you not know that you, too, are most desired?”
Jim gasped with surprise at the brief contact. His resistance was dissolving. His mind was spinning out of control. He looked down and shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. He looked back up and said, “You mean the three of us? Together? You want this?” He looked into Spock’s eyes and then over at McCoy. The blue eyes had turned to a dark azure and the skin was becoming flushed. Raking his eyes down the body of the doctor, he couldn’t help but notice the engorged organ straining tightly inside the uniform trousers. Bones did nothing to try to conceal his aroused state from Jim. If anything, he pushed his groin forward slightly to call attention to his erection. Jim pried his gaze away from the erotic sight and brought them back to the blue eyes that were aflame with lust.
“I’ve wanted this for years,” McCoy purred, accompanied by a grin that could have melted the bulkhead.
“Jim,” Spock whispered in a voice now deep with passion, “I would never have allowed physical contact, never allowed this connection between us to form, if I had any other desire but to have you both as my lovers.” He spread Jim’s knees further apart and moved between them. “The choice is now yours. Do you choose to accept this?”
Jim was not exactly a stranger to sex, having had some experience with both sexes, and even a few other species. But to have that which he had desired for so long become a reality, with both of them, was beyond any fantasy that had ever played itself out in the darkness of his cabin. His answer came in a breathy rush, rough with years of denied passion. “The three of us lovers? Yes, oh…definitely, yes.”
Chapter 6
Spock lowered his head to brush Jim’s lips with his own. It was just a touch of their lips together and they broke apart briefly. Several more times the lips were rubbed against his before there was slight movement of the mouth from either of them. It felt as if there was an electrical current passing between them that had to be neutralized before true contact could take place. Jim placed his arms around Spock’s neck and responded to the gentle movements against his mouth by lightly grabbing Spock’s bottom lip with his own and sucking gently.
The hot mouth covered his, chests heaved for needed air before breaking apart again. Pulling his lips away from Spock and sucking needed oxygen into his lungs, he released one of his arms from around Spock’s neck and looked at Bones who had come to his knees beside them. He reached over and drew Bones into the embrace. Now, with more certainty, he forcefully claimed the doctor’s mouth with his own. The response was immediate and powerful. Jim felt as if something inside of him broke loose. A warmth he had never before felt consumed him as he gave over all that he was to these men. For the briefest moment, the feeling scared the hell out of him.
Pulling away, he shivered with the awakening of this feeling. “Are you sure about this? If we do this, then I don’t think I can ever go back,” he panted.
With eyes dilated with desire, Leonard leaned in and kissed Jim and said, “Very sure.” Bones then turned to Spock and whispered, “Spock…”
Spock placed a hand on the side of Bones’ face and slid it to the back of his neck. Gently, they leaned toward each other. “Yes…” Spock hissed as they came together.
The feeling of embracing both of these men and seeing them passionately kiss nearly undid Jim. He felt as if the room was spinning around them, as if they had been transported into a dimension of their own. He lowered his arm from Bones’ back and slowly, hesitantly, moved his hand lower until he felt where the tight, firm ass began. A soft moan from deep in the doctor’s throat encouraged him to proceed further until he was caressing the round mounds.
Bones broke free from Spock’s mouth and sucked in a sharp intake of air when Jim’s fingers traced the crease separating the solid globes. McCoy swayed against his arm as he increased his massage. He reached up and pulled the doctor’s shirt free from the waistband and eased his hand down the back of the trousers. Feeling the pants become suddenly loose, Jim realized Bones had released the catch to allow him easier access. Glancing down, he saw the fly open and the large bulge of the erect cock billowing out of the opening, covered only by the flesh-colored briefs that were straining to contain it. Bones leaned back on his heels and spread his legs apart to give Jim full access. Jim felt Spock’s lips against the side of his cheek and turned to meet the soft lips with his own.
Jim felt Spock’s hands trail down his body until the warm fingers reached the area they had only grazed moments before. This time it was not a timid caress. Heated, searching fingers traced the outline of his engorged cock and began to stroke it. Jim knew himself well enough to know there was already wetness seeping through the fabric. Becoming more brazen, he began to explore within Bones’ cleft and lightly run his finger across the puckered opening, an action that evoked a hiss from the man beside him. He pulled away from the kiss and looked down to see Bones rubbing the area where Spock’s thigh met his scrotum. It seemed as if Bones was apprehensive about actually touching Spock intimately. Freeing his grip on Spock’s neck, he covered Bones’ hand and moved it to the impressive bulge. Together, hand in hand, fingers entwined, they began running their fingers along the long, thick outline of the Vulcan’s erection.
Jim released his grip from McCoy’s hand, and his attention to the doctor’s backside, only long enough for Spock to pull his gold shirt up and over his head. The shirt was tossed aside. Spock ran his hands over his smooth chest and teased each sensitive nipple, causing a most delicious tingle to run from Jim’s breast to his groin. Spock then pulled his own shirt off and tossed it aside.
All three of them had seen each other in various stages of nudity in the past, but the sight of Spock, flushed with passion, nipples tight, eyes dark, lips wet and slightly swollen, caused the two humans to ignite. Leonard rubbed his free hand across the furred chest and allowed his thumb to tease the tight nub. Jim leaned his head down to the chest and began teasing the other erect nipple with his tongue, then gently bit it. Spock arched back and emitted a moan of erotic passion. Jim felt the spontaneous movement of the organ beneath the uniform trousers that still covered Spock’s crotch.
Jim’s hand moved to Bones’ erection and he repeatedly ran the tips of his fingers up and down the thick cock that was covered by only the thin material of his briefs. He felt Bones lean against him and the doctor’s lips come close to his ear. “Jim, if you don’t stop that, I’m gonna to cum,” McCoy groaned in a whisper that made Jim ache to relive this man’s need.
Turning his full attention to his azure-eyed friend, he pulled McCoy’s shirt off and tossed it into the growing pile of discarded clothing. Jim released the erection from the undergarment and marveled at the sight of the doctor’s thick organ as it sprung free from the confines of the material. Spock assisted as Jim pushed the trousers and briefs down until they were puddled around Leonard’s knees.
Wrapping Leonard in his arms, he gently maneuvered them to where they were laying down on the mat as Spock pulled the remainder of the doctor’s clothes off. Jim stretched out beside him and leaned down to kiss him. Their tongues explored each other’s, tasting and discovering the flavors that they had wanted for so long. Jim felt Spock’s arms encircle his waist and release the catch on his trousers. Jim raised his hips to allow Spock to pull his trousers down and over his feet.
He was now wearing only a black thong undergarment. As he ground his cock, covered only with the slick material, against Bones’ erection, he felt Spock’s hand slip underneath the small band and trace the narrow strap that led from the waist, nestled snugly into his crevice and flared into the pouch that held his scrotum and cock. The warm knuckle brushed against his opening and he thrust against Bones with the sensation. The warm hands again slid between them, and a warm tongue traced a pattern along his shoulder as Spock freed his organ from the pouch, making sure to stroke the length of it as he pulled the material down. With little effort, Spock pulled the thong the rest of the way off. Now, the two humans were completely naked and Jim nestled between the doctor’s slightly parted thighs and began to rhythmically thrust his cock against his lover’s.
Bones breaths became quicker and more labored. “Please, I can’t stop. I’m gonna cum,” Leonard gasped.
“Yesss…I know,” he purred back. “It’s okay, I’m here,” Jim soothed when he realized how hard Bones was straining to keep his body from tipping over the edge. With that, he felt Bones settle down underneath him. Jim worked his way down the lightly furred chest, using his tongue to stimulate the nipples and trace a path across the hard smooth abdomen to the fur circling the hard shaft. He touched the end of his tongue to the spongy tip of the cock. Bones jumped at the contact. Jim tasted the salty flavor of the precum that had formed at the slit. His lips encircled the head as he gently explored the organ to locate the most sensitive spots.
Glancing up, Jim saw that Spock had stretched out beside Bones and was kissing and sucking on his lips, ears and neck. Jim turned his attention back to the doctor’s groin and massaged the heavy pouch with one hand and captured the base of the cock with his other. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled the length of the organ into his mouth, causing Leonard to emit a deep, guttural moan. Wanting to prolong the pleasure as long as possible, Jim applied light pressure around the base as he continued to slowly move his mouth up and down the organ. With the hand that had been stimulating Leonard’s testicles, he began to venture further back. McCoy raised and spread his knees. Jim’s finger found the most private opening.
Leonard tensed and pulled away at the feeling of being touched here, but quickly relaxed and allowed Jim access. He slowly eased one saliva slickened finger through the very tight ring and heard a gasp as his finger fully penetrated the chamber. He found the gland right behind the penis and when he brushed across it, McCoy moaned and began to writhe beneath him. “Oh…God…Jim!” Bones gasped. With that, he felt McCoy’s body become stiff and the gland began to throb. Taking the full length of the cock into his mouth, he sucked on the hot shaft and teased the hard spot his finger had located only a moment before. McCoy cried out and, in pulsating waves, came in Jim’s mouth. Tasting the sweet-saltiness of the fluid, Jim used his talents to draw the last of the wonderful nectar from the organ. He pulled his finger from the opening and felt Bones’ body convulse with pleasure. He let the cock slide from his mouth.
Spock reached for Kirk and maneuvered himself so he was lying between them. Jim turned his attention to Spock. The Vulcan was the only one who remained semi-clothed, but Jim made quick work of that. He released the catch and, sitting up, he pulled the trousers off, turning them inside out in the urgency of the movement. He then grabbed the waistband of the cream-colored, form-fitting undergarment and worked it over the head of Spock’s erection. Pulling it down over the long, muscular legs, he was finally able to complete the pile of clothes that was lying off to the side.
Seeing Spock naked in the past, he knew the tip of the Vulcan’s cock was somewhat different from a humans, but he was not prepared for the beauty of the long, hard, double-ridged specimen displayed before him. Jim placed his hand over the cap, spreading the leaking, viscous fluid around the head and ridges. Spock’s hips thrust upwards toward him as he moved his hand down to the base of the magnificent organ. Strong hands on his arms pulled him up. Spock’s body covered him and the mouth captured his. Jim felt the warm tongue force his lips apart and dip urgently inside.
Spock pulled away and his lips found his ear. “I taste the essence of Leonard in your mouth. His seed is fresh on your tongue. It makes me burn,” Spock hissed with the intensity of cool rain on molten rock.
The sensation of the warm breath against his ear made Jim shiver with desire. He reached around Spock, grabbed the hard, round mounds of his ass and ground their erections together. “Jesus...Spock,” Jim whispered as he kissed and sucked on the Vulcan’s neck, “I have fantasized about this. Now you’re here and I want to feel you...” he gasped, not knowing if he could voice that which he had only dreamed of. Spock pulled back and Jim was looking into those dark eyes. He steeled his courage and whispered, “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me.”
“Fuck you?” Spock breathed. Jim had no doubt that this was the first time that word had come from those lips. “Yes, Jim, it is my intention to fuck you,” Spock rasped with a forcefulness and passion Jim did not believe was possible. “We will need a lubricant. I have something in my sleeping quarters. Wait while I retrieve it?”
“Yes, but hurry!”
Spock released him, stood up, swayed slightly and walked behind the partition that separated the bed from the rest of the room. There was the sound of a drawer being palmed open. He reappeared and Jim watched that beautiful, aroused, sensuous man walking toward him. The sight brought him to his knees. As Spock reached the place where he was kneeling, Jim put his hands on the heated thighs and pulled him close. He ran his tongue along the hot shaft, and explored the ridges, discovering that the area just under the second ridge was extremely sensitive. He tongued the soft cap and savored the sweet fluid offered to him. Had it not been for his body’s urgent need to be filled, he would have continued until Spock was forced to cum. But there was something more they both wanted, needed, before this night was through.
Spock eased his cock out of Jim’s mouth and knelt down, squeezing some of the gel into his hand. Reaching down, he began to prepare himself. Jim couldn’t help but watch as Spock smoothed the gel over the head and shaft of his gorgeous cock. Those same delicate fingers that commanded the controls of the science station, that gently lifted and placed the chess pieces, that had meticulously prepared the tea, were now stroking the length of that beautiful, aroused cock. Seeing Spock touch himself caused another shiver of passion to race through Jim’s body. Spock squeezed another glob of the gel onto his fingers and tossed the tube aside. With his free hand he pulled Jim close. The hot lips covered his and a hot tongue pried his lips apart and thoroughly explored every inch of his mouth. Pulling away, Spock whispered deep and throaty into Jim’s ear, “You seem to have the essence of both of your lovers on your lips.”
“Yesss...” Jim purred in response. He felt the hands separating him and hot, slick fingers spread the gel around his private entrance. It took his breath away to think that it was Spock who was touching him in this way. It had been a while since his last male encounter, and he felt himself clench as the first slender finger breached the ring of muscle. He willed himself to relax until the finger was fully penetrating him with little effort, then another finger entered him. Together, they stretched the entrance and allowed the lubricant to work deep into his body. Jim was lifted to a level of arousal that he didn’t know could exist without release.
Tracing first the magnificent ear, then the neck with his tongue, he saw McCoy behind Spock. He was sitting on his bent knees watching the events taking place before him. His thighs were spread and he was openly massaging his own newly awakened cock. It aroused Jim even more to see Bones being turned on by the passionate show which he and Spock were putting on for him. Jim realized that this man who had been his friend and confidant, was going to pleasure himself as Spock fucked him, and he discovered that the idea was exciting. He had never considered himself an exhibitionist, however this was not like any other experience he had ever had. He was ready, his body was opened up and he needed to feel that heat inside of him. He raised his face to the man holding him. “Now, Spock…!”
With a deep purr, hoarse with passion, and a smile that took Jim’s breath away, the answer came. “Lay down. I wish to see your face when I enter you.”
It was not a request, but a command, and he could do nothing but obey. Jim remembered that, at that moment, he would have done anything either of these men asked him to do. He was under their power. Any will of his own was gone. He lay back on the floor and in bending his knees, presented himself to Spock. Hot hands grasped the back of his thighs and tilted him slightly backwards. He felt the hardness center to him and the cockhead breach his opening. He readied himself for the invasion as he willed his muscles to relax.
“Yes, Spock!” Jim gasped, “fuck me!” And with that, the searing pain and pleasure erupted within him as Spock impaled him on the full length of his cock. The entry was much quicker than Jim was prepared for, and he remembered drawing a series of deep, gulping breaths to steady himself against the invasion, but the strong hands held him in place.
He heard a whisper, spoken with a softness that was nearly unrecognizable that said, “Easy does it, Spock. Give him time to adjust.”
Thankfully, Spock remained still until the muscles deep within had surrendered. Slowly, there was movement and the ridges stroked his prostate as they withdrew. The sensation had sent shock waves of pleasure throughout Jim’s gut. When Spock had withdrawn to the crown, and was beginning to enter him again, Jim pushed back against the force, meeting the thrust with his hips, this time ready to feel the full length of his lover inside of him. Once more the organ was withdrawn and reinserted with even more determination. Jim began to feel the heat of desire that boiled within his abdomen move to his groin with each thrust. Orgasm was just moments away, and he had no control over his body. This man had all of the power. He could keep him from ejaculating, or make him cum at will. A hand captured his erection and began stroking it in the same rhythm of the thrusts inside of him. The decision had been made. There was one powerful thrust deep within him and he felt the pulsating organ as it began to fill him.
Jim had thrown his head back and groaned as his own orgasm rushed to completion. Semen filled him as his own fluid spurted from him in powerful swells, coating his abdomen and splashing against Spock’s belly. They rode wave after wave of seemingly endless pleasure until all was expelled and exhaustion claimed them. Spock collapsed on him, burying hot lips in the tender nape of his neck and hot breath beat against him as Spock pulled needed oxygen into his body.
Jim turned his head toward McCoy. The doctor’s hand was slick and his cock wet with the orgasm that had been brought on by the display. Jim reached out a hand and Bones stretched out beside them, resting his head on Jim’s outstretched arm. Spock pulled free of him and the three of them collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs.
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