Oh What a Night! December 63

Oh What a Night!

Series: TOS

Pairing: K/S

Rating: R (some 'bad' words and a bit of m/m sex) Date: 12/98

Lt. Cmdr Kirk pushed the last needed button on the navigation panel with a little more vigor than was absolutely necessary. "Orbit established, sir," he announced to his captain.

"Lt. Johnson, please let the crew know we have established orbit. Shore Leave may begin in 20 minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Twenty minutes later, Kirk left the bridge with a spring in his step. Planet Argelius, Bones' ship is just arriving and the Enterprise and Antares are in orbit already. *Party tonight!* he thought as he strode down the hall. He stopped by his cabin, showered and changed, then headed out to join the queue for the transporter.

Ten minutes later he stood in the main reception area watching Bones McCoy materialize.

"I hate these durn transporters, Jim. It's just not natural havin' your atoms scattered across the galaxy. And it always messes with my gut."

"Sure they do. Good to see you again, Bones."

"Oh right. You, too. Where can we go to get a drink to settle my stomach? Looks like you could use something, too.

What's got you looking so worn out -- too much stress with all that rank you keep getting?"

"I'm sure we can find something," Kirk laughed, "and, yes, it will be good to get away from the job and just relax for the night. I love the ship. But a place like this, where no one cares much what you do and everyone wants to have fun, is just what the doctor ordered."

"I think that's my line."

The two headed out the main entrance onto the streets of the city in search of a good bar.

A couple of hours, two beers, and a human-cooked meal later, Kirk and McCoy entered a large, cheerfully decorated room.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Bones. A reception."

"Not a Starfleet one, not really. This one had dancing and live music - good stuff. It's only Starfleet 'cause I know some folks who are going. Don't worry. We can head back to the pool tables later if you want to. But you've got to meet our new microbiologist. She's about your age, tall, red hair, cute..."

"All right, already. But it sounds like you're after her yourself."

McCoy blushed, "Maybe so. I'll show you the blond one," he winked at Kirk. "I've also heard that the navigator of the Antares is really well-built; he's supposed to have shoulders out to here and a tight butt," McCoy accompanied the words with expansive hand gestures.

Kirk blushed this time, "I never should have told you about my passion for guys like that. I get enough teasing for that busty phase you saw me through. What was it...three, or four, really voluptuous girlfriends one right after the last? You've never let me hear the last of that phase. I tell you though, I do like to look."

"So do I, Jim-bo. So do I. That's why we get along so well. And I won't tell anyone you're really after someone with a brain, too." McCoy winked and grabbed Kirk by the arm, pulled him over to the bar. "Seltzer water, please." At Kirk's surprised expression, McCoy grinned, "the better to remember who I suggest what to, and who accepts."

"Seltzer for me, too. For now." Kirk took the drink, "Now, where's the red head or the blond?"

The two men caught up with the two women and chatted for a few minutes. Both were animated and pretty, so Kirk was pleased when he heard the music beginning. He quickly asked the blond, Sarah, to dance leaving McCoy with Rita, the red-head.

Kirk found the beat and led Sarah around the dance floor for a couple of numbers, then started to pull her close for a slower number, when another man cut in (she called him 'Ben'), and pulled her to him.

Kirk sought out his drink and took a quick swallow before he turned to peruse the room. He picked out a man who fit the description of the navigator who McCoy has gone on about. He had just decided to go over and ask him to dance (*Why not? The worst he can do is say no.*) when he noticed the Vulcan. Then he noticed him again, felt himself flush. He - - - black-haired, pale- skinned, royal bearing - - - was entering the room through a door almost directly opposite Kirk. He was speaking to a much smaller man, his hands clasped behind his back.

As Kirk watched, Spock and his companion came to halt within the room. He looked up; Kirk's mouth went dry as their eyes met, briefly. He downed his drink and, heedless of the gyrating bodies in between, headed off across the room. Dodging elbows and wayward feet, he made his way toward him.

Mesmerized, he only subliminally noted the Vulcan's science department tunic and Lt. Cmdr. braid. Consciously, he noted the other's even breathing, his bearing, and the fact that his companion excused himself at just the right moment.

Kirk was within a meter of him when the Vulcan turned and their eyes met again. This time Kirk held the other's gaze as he stepped close. He would have surprised himself with his daring had he spared himself a thought when he asked, "Dance with me?"

Without considering the motion, he reached out, touched the Vulcan's sleeve, felt his warmth through the velour-like uniform fabric. The Vulcan's eyebrow lifted, showing his surprise, or his interest. The deep brown eyes remained locked with Kirk's for another moment. Then his gaze shifted, slightly, as did Kirk's.

As Kirk's world expanded beyond the dark eyes, reality bore down, "Excuse me. That was pretty abrupt. I'm James Kirk...Jim. And I really would like to dance with you," he managed to say as his heart pounded in his chest.

"I am Spock. Your offer is appreciated, but I must decline," he replied, then paused before continuing, "the dance floor is much too crowded."

"Oh," Kirk responded, "sure." *Brilliant, aren't you, Jim?

'Oh sure.' Calm down... Maybe he'll at least talk to you.* As he thought, he realized his hand was still on the Vulcan's sleeve, and that Spock had not moved in the slightest. "I guess you're right.

May I get you something to drink?"

"Yes. They are serving an excellent Taracsian nectar."

Kirk turned, saw a waiter conveniently close by, took a few steps, and nabbed two glasses of the purple juice. He handed one to Spock. "I've never tried this. Mmmm....good. It's kind of tart, but still sweet and smooth."

"I am pleased that you approve."

"So, now we have something in common besides our rank and the room we are in," Kirk flirted.

"It would seem so. However, I suspect our interests intersect in more ways than that." Again the Vulcan's gaze locked with Kirk's. Again he experienced the rush he'd first experienced when he first saw Spock. And the fire in Spock's eyes hinted that he felt the same heat, recognized it in Kirk. Kirk felt a pull deep into his consciousness as if he was a part of...

"Jim! Jim! They're playing our song. Come on and dance," Sarah's voice and hand pulled him away from Spock.

"I'll be back," he called over his shoulder, but he couldn't tell if the Vulcan heard him.

Sarah and Rita, then Tony the navigator, and McCoy in cahoots, kept him on the floor solidly for the next half an hour. He laughed, enjoying himself immensely, but hoping to return to Spock. *Something about him pulls me to him.* And as he cavorted, he realized he had lost all interest he had had earlier in any one but the Vulcan, Spock.

Finally, the group began to tire. The others sought out drinks and chairs. Kirk looked around for Spock, but did not see him.

Then the music calmed. "I have a special treat for you all tonight," said the Master of Ceremonies, "several of our visitors have consented to entertain us."

Kirk turned to the stage. There sat his missing Vulcan, strumming a lyre. Several exotic sounding, musical pieces followed as Spock's lyre was joined by a guitar, several voices, a flute, and something that looked like a cross between a cello and a banjo.

Kirk stood watching, listening. His body swayed slightly in time to the music. The unearthly sounds were somehow fitting as he watched Vulcan fingers stroke the lyre strings, stopping to caress the vibrating strands, to pluck them, to slide across them.

Between pieces, Kirk's eyes met Spock's and his heart beat faster as he felt the seduction. In his heart he knew, *he is making love to me through the music. I am his lyre; he, my concert master.* For a moment it seemed out of place, wrong, to be so intimate with a stranger...in front of strangers. Then Spock's fingers began to move and Kirk tingled, no more thought of wrong, only how right this felt, this melodic seduction.

His feet began to move. Soon he stood, barely in front of the stage. Spock's fingertips caressed him as he played slow notes to compliment the urgency of the singer's voice. Then the pale fingertips plucked higher and higher. Kirk felt his nipples harden, his chest rising with his faster breathing. There was no one else in his world besides the Vulcan. Before tonight, he hadn't known his name; hadn't known that someone like him existed, but now...he floated in a world for two.

Lost in this world, Kirk did not notice when the singer left.

His body had adjusted to the sweet strains of the sole lyre and moved with it. Then the moment was shattered as Sarah grabbed him close. "It's perfect for holding. Dance, Jim."

Kirk automatically wrapped his arms around the woman.

She felt strange against him, where earlier she felt right. Her breasts thrust against him, firm and peaked. But even as her hands slid down to grip his hips, to pull him close, the out-thrust flesh between them kept their bodies apart, not molded to each other as he wished to be...with him. He found himself yearning for a flat chest, a body to mold to his. This womanly form felt wrong to him, this night. But he swayed with her, listening to Spock...

He felt the gaze upon him, saw Spock's stare. The Vulcan's eyes were glued to the woman's hands clutching his ass.

Then the dark eyes met his paler ones, the glance speculative, one eyebrow raised. It was as though Spock's hands were holding him.

*But Spock's hands would be warmer, larger. And if he were holding me, his cock would be rubbing against mine.* Kirk felt himself growing hard, but Sarah's giggle, as she felt the change and tried to move against it, was sufficient to slow the growth.

Then the last strains died and everyone clapped. Kirk turned to Sarah, "Thank you for the dance. Now I must speak to the musician."

She pouted as he turned from her, but Kirk saw McCoy approaching and knew he'd find her a dance partner shortly.

Kirk walked toward Spock, the imaginary hand print on his ass still felt warm, his cock was half hard. He knew Spock would see it if he looked. Too, he knew he would look.

Spock stepped down from the stage after storing his lyre.

He stood before Kirk, looked him slowly up and down. Kirk could have sworn he felt the gaze more than saw it. "Now, Spock, dance with me."

"I do not dance, Jim."

"The floor is almost empty and the music is starting up again. No excuses, just hold me."

Somehow they ended up swaying together on the dance floor. At first Spock wrapped his arms loosely around Kirk's waist as Kirk rested his hands on Spock's shoulders, their bodies barely touching. As Kirk relaxed, he shifted his hands until his arms circled Spock's neck, his fingers touching bare skin for the first time. A tingle crept over him starting at his fingertips, almost subliminal. Then a sense of peace, coming home, belonging. He sighed, threaded his fingers through Spock's hair, touching his nape, feeling his presence.

Moments later, when the tempo increased, Kirk was surprised to find himself led around the floor by a surefooted partner. He was even twirled once or twice. "I thought you didn't dance, Spock," he grinned up at the Vulcan.

"In general I do not. I did not, however, say I did not know how."

The almost teasing tone of the deep voice whispering in his ear sent exotic chills through Kirk, who was quite pleased when the music slowed again and he could lay his head on Spock's shoulder. He inhaled the mildly musky scent of warm Vulcan and relaxed against him. Spock's arms drew him close, but Kirk's arm stretched lower on Spock, cupping his buttocks, pulling their hips together. Small gasps escaped from both as hardness slid against hardness.

"We need to get out of here, Spock."

"Indeed. I am not normally inclined to such public display; you have sorely tested my restraint."

"'Restraint'? Kirk let his amusement at the understatement show in his tone. "What happens if we break your control?" he continued his flirting.

Spock raised one eyebrow in a look Kirk interpreted as 'you shall see...shortly."

Spock turned Kirk by the shoulder, not letting go, and led

him toward a nearby door. "I believe the balcony is

unoccupied. We will have privacy."

"Yes, please," Kirk whispered, amazed he could still speak.

As Spock pushed open the door, Kirk looked up, "Mistletoe?"

"Yes, it is the season for such. But I do not need mythical enticements for this," responded Spock looking deeply into the human's eyes as he locked the door behind him.

"This?" he teased softly, lifting himself up on his toes.

Spock's hands left Kirk's shoulders to hold his face gently, "This," he murmured as he lowered his lips to Kirk's. Lips met softly for a moment, but the fires were merely banked, hot and ready to burn. Quickly Kirk wrapped one hand behind Spock's head, his fingers threaded in the dark hair. The tingling sensation returned; it grew in his mind, gently, as he could now tell Spock meant it to. He felt so right; this man felt so right.

The Vulcan's tongue invaded as if it had lain in ambush.

Heat was exchanged and passion grew until neither knew where one began and the other ended.

Then Kirk's calf muscles twinged warning him to come down off his toes. Mouth still clinging to Spock's, he slid down the needed inch or two - exquisite movement. As he lowered, he rubbed against Spock, his velour shirt stuck to Spock's thus sliding upward on Kirk, stimulating already hardened nipples.

And even more, the two erections, now fully hard, brushed against each other. Hips bucked instinctively, seeking closeness, completeness. Kirk's whole being felt hot, tingly. He felt powerful, high on passion. This was something, someone special.

Everything felt right, he needed, _now_. He needed Spock to complete him.

He sucked in Spock's tongue, thrust his hands under Spock's shirt, stroking warm muscles as Spock did the same to him. Soon he worked one hand forward and brushed Spock's hard nipples eliciting a gasp. He lifted his head, "This is what it felt like you were doing to me when you played."

"Yes," he groaned, "I played for you. I have never played that way before." His powerful grip tightened on Kirk's tunic possessively. "But when your eyes met mine, I had no choice. My fingers stroked the strings, while in my mind, my hands were touching you." His free hand slid Kirk's tunic up in front, touched his nipples. "Know now what I wished to do." He stroked, then plucked the nipples, one, then the other. Then still holding Kirk, he lowered his head to suck. Kirk gasped as his first nipple was touched, pulled on. The hot tongue seared him, sending shivers of passions to his brain and groin, overwhelming his thought processes.

When his second was equally treated, he moaned, "Spock!" He thrust his hand beneath Spock's waistband, "I must have you." He found the cock, surrounded it, stroked it hard, as passionately as he could with Spock clothed, and a hot, distracting, mouth sucking on his own aching nipples. "Please, Spock. Let me take you in my mouth," he begged, unaware of anything but his need to give the man pleasure.

"Yes, Jim....now!" Spock released Kirk, who fell eagerly to his knees and began to undo Spock's pants.

Just then a reveler jarred the balcony door. The lock held, but Spock regained awareness of their surroundings. Kirk remained lost in passion and resisted when Spock told him, "Stop, Jim."

Spock sank to his knees beside Kirk and held him, "not here."

"Yes, now," Kirk spoke his need of Spock.

"I have a room. Come with me."

Kirk attempted to renew their kiss.

"We are close to being observed," Spock warned. When this had no effect he offered the positive, "Jim, I have a large bed....to share."

"Yes. Yes that would be good," Kirk stood noticing, finally, their lack of privacy. "Oh no, I feel like a teenager."

"The feeling is mutual. Let us adjourn."

"It's Argelius. There aren't any laws against it, but even here privacy provides more options," Kirk rationalized the need to move.

Spock led Kirk to the far end of the balcony into an unoccupied anteroom. Soon they reached Spock's rental room.

If Kirk had thought the Vulcan uninhibited on the balcony, he found out the true nature of his passion once they entered the room.

Neither man was capable of waiting. Clothes were stripped off and tossed. In moments they lay side by side in the bed, their lips locked together, hands roaming. The sense of peace Kirk had felt earlier when he touched Spock changed and became an urgent need to belong, to share. Each touch strengthened the feeling of rightness. And the two drew together, stroking, learning.

When Kirk finally clasped Spock's bare cock, he knew that this time would be fast. Simply holding the pulsing organ was overloading his own senses. And Spock was so hard it hurt Kirk to imagine how it must have felt, or it would have if Kirk had been able to forget his own now almost painful state. He stroked Spock, one finger smoothing the head. As it slid across, he could feel the moisture oozing out. "Spock, please, may I take you in my mouth?" He wanted to feel the texture, needed to taste him.

His universe felt ready to explode and he wanted to share it, and everything, with Spock.

"Hold me now, stroke me, Jim," was the response.

Spock's hand found Kirk's cock at that moment. "Together." Spock rolled them over so that he lay on top. The warm weight pressed Kirk down. Strong thighs entwined with his own. So much skin touching, so much need for more.

Spock's hips thrust, his cock was stroked by Kirk's hand from base to tip, then again. He lowered his lips to Kirk's, sucked in his tongue. And moaned loudly. His hand worked Kirk's cock, one stroke, then two, as his hips thrust forward in time with the stroking. The combined motions sent thrills of passion through Kirk. And Kirk tightened his grip as Spock grew harder, larger, proving his pleasure, sharing his passion through his response.

"Mmmf," came from one of them, as the excitement mounted.

"Ohhh...Yes!" yelled Kirk as he broke the kiss and came in time to Spock's "Jim!" uttered as he too climaxed.

Both men quickly collapsed from satiation and emotional exhaustion.

Spock slid to the side, Kirk pulled up the blanket. *Soon, I will taste you, make love to you longer, feel you come inside me....* he thought drowsily as he drifted off to sleep against Spock's shoulder.

***********

Kirk closed the photo album, set it down on the bedside table, turned off the light. He slid under the covers next to his sleeping Vulcan. It felt so right to be with him, then and now, after all these years. And as he finally drowsed, *December '63.

Oh what a night!"