by The Enigmatic Big Miss Sunbeam
And light the opening of that cave like a minor sun or a god.
"Mr. Spock, remind me not to go on a treasure hunt like this again. Too dangerous." Then Jim smiled at Spock and rubbed his leg.
"Captain, I believe the atmosphere on this planet is not as compatible as we first thought. The rain outside this cavern appears to have a corrosive quality."
Their eyes met.
Then there was a dull roaring in Spock's ears and he knew what it meant. He shook his head. "I am hoping we can contact the ship . . . well, Mr. Scott surely can . . . beam us up."
"Spock, are you unwell?" Jim said. His voice was full of fun and caution.
"I . . . do not know." He changed the subject. "Jim, how is your leg?"
"A minor sprain. I'll be all right. Really."
There was a silence. The rain was coming down hard now.
"Spock, I've already contacted Scotty. I told him we'd be fine til the rain is over."
Spock glanced at Jim and then looked back at his recorder. It was only the second time, and he was not quite sure of the proper procedure. He knew the first time would be difficult, but he had never considered how the second time might present challenges. He swallowed.
It was quite possible that he was mistaken, that what had happened the first time was a space aberrancy. After all, curious things were always taking place in the intergalactic world. He glanced up again.
Jim was watching him and smiling.
"It's late, Spock. Maybe we should go to bed."
Spock's blood jumped. "Captain?"
That little smile did not leave Jim's face. "Yes, Spock?"
"Let me take a few more readings."
"Fair enough, Mr. Spock." Jim stood up and stretched. And pulled off his gold shirt.
Then he began to unpeel his dark teeshirt.
A pity since Jim filled out that dark teeshirt nicely.
Spock shifted his long legs.
Jim glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "I like rain. Do you?"
"Since it does not rain on Vulcan or on the Enterprise, I have not had much occasion to resolve my emotions on the subject."
Jim sat back down. He was still wearing his pants, his boots, and he shone like a ghost in the cave. His legs were slightly open.
"Jim, does your wound require medical assistance?"
If Jim took off his pants and spread his knees even more and let Spock examine his leg and then kept his knees open, Spock could kiss Jim everywhere, he could take all of Jim into his ready mouth and nurse him to ecstasy.
To an ecstasy that Jim might want repeated again and again.
His own sensitive fingertips could run up and down Jim's softly bristled thighs.
He knew Jim was watching him because Jim spread his legs even further apart and put his hands behind his head as he leaned back.
"Yes, look it over, Spock."
"Jim, in order for me to do an effective scan, you will need to remove your trousers."
Jim stood up and pulled his pants and boots and socks. And sat back down.
Spock felt the fire growing in his face. It was as if he'd never been alive until now. As a boy on Vulcan, he had been fascinated by the whole interplay of life and of the complex crystal structures of science; however, it had never occurred to him that, in all of these complex structures, there might be a thundering ecstasy that would take him completely out of himself and throw him half way across the room.
He had been such a child. Now he knew better.
And the complex structure at the center of all that ecstasy now sat smiling at him, knees resting about eighteen inches apart.
How did one . . . presume to begin again?
The first time, only fourteen star days in the past, they had been on a hostile planet, just Jim and he sharing a trench under the hostile's three moons and listening to distant enemy phasar fires; Spock had been sleeping when he was awakened by some minor disturbance.
He had opened his eyes and there had been Jim with his pants off, moving his fist against his body. Then Jim saw him watching and gasped, "Oh, Spock, oh, I'm so sorry."
And they had looked at each other.
"I'm sorry you saw me like this." Jim's voice was raspy; he was breathing with his mouth open. "Sorry." He shook his head and gave Spock an embarrassed smile.
At first Spock had been almost too shocked to speak, but then he gathered himself. "Jim, I did not mean to disturb you."
"It's all right. I need to hit the hay anyway." And Jim lay down.
But he kept looking at Spock. Whose eyes had never left Jim's beautiful face.
Then Jim propped himself back up on his elbow. "Spock," he said in a warm voice. "I'm afraid I was being very human there for a moment. I wish I had your Vulcan detachment." His tone was light, but his eyes were intent.
Neither said anything for a few minutes.
Then Jim broke the silence again. "That's an interesting look on your face, Mr. Spock. What does it mean?" In the faint light of the moons, he seemed to be blushing.
Spock had no idea what to say. Then he breathed out. "I am only half Vulcan."
Jim's voice was low. "Soldier's luck, Mr. Spock. After all, risk is our business. Who knows what the next day brings?"
It seemed as if Jim were speaking in some code, one Spock had heard years before, possibly in a dream, but never since.
In the distance, something exploded.
Jim's head turned toward the noise, and Spock put his hand on Jim's arm. They looked at each other. "Spock, you must feel free to do as you like."
"I do feel free."
Then Jim's lips moved near his and he heard Jim whispering. "Soldier's luck. What do you say?" And Spock turned his head to Jim and placed his lips on Jim's soft wet mouth.
There had been nothing elaborate in their caresses; In the light of distant phasar fire, Jim had put his hand on him and Spock had returned the favor and very soon each one was pulsing against each other - Spock's ears meanwhile ringing with his superspeeded blood.
After that, there had been more phasar fire and a battle and Jim had sustained mild lung damage from the smoke and the Enterprise beamed them all up and McCoy had stuck Jim in sick bay and actually Spock and Jim had not been alone together until this second.
So how could he presume to begin? How could he be sure that Jim wanted . . .
What had happened before had been under conditions of combat. Here all was pleasant; the softest (if slightly toxic) rain was falling and their cave was bloodwarm.
Of course, Jim was certainly sitting there in a most seductive way, but when was Jim not seductive? And, with that thought, the blood rushed to Spock's face again. Everything Jim did was beautiful; when he walked down the corridors of his starship, his careful forceful walk left longing in its wake.
Spock had done well in school, he learned how to research things, and he was very smart. During those two weeks Jim was in sick bay, Spock had done some work in the ship's library. He had been amazed at the variety of caresses that two adults could share.
It wasn't simply a matter of putting hands on each other, although that was delightful. They could even kiss each other or even penetrate each other. Spock wanted to do it all. He could tell that under all the pompous decorum of the texts were ecstasies animals would envy.
Still: here he was. He took his recorder and knelt between Jim's legs and ran the recorder over the smooth muscles of Jim's big thighs.
Jim was reaching out and touching his ear.
"Is this part of you sensitive? It seems as if it would be," he was saying, but Spock could barely hear him, his blood was pounding so much. Then he quit moving his recorder because Jim was running his hand down across Spock's chest.
There were two layers of cloth between Spock's skin and Jim's hand, but Spock felt him as distinctly as if they were both naked. Jim's hand stopped over his nipple. And gently pinched. "You're sensitive all over, Spock. But that doesn't surprise me. I knew you'd be good at this."
Spock was still silent, but he moved his hand to Jim's bare chest.
Jim had tight warm skin, smooth and soft. Sometimes Humans had very damp skin, skin that almost gave off a certain . . . vapor, but not Jim. Jim was perfect.
He leaned over and put his mouth on Jim's.
And felt the flutter of Jim's pulse against his lips.
Jim's hands moved to his shoulders and Spock put his hands around Jim's strong waist and drew Jim to him. Jim's mouth was open now and his eyes were closed, and Spock opened his mouth wider and very gently touched the edge of his tongue to Jim's and he heard Jim moan and hiss a little.
And then Jim moved in his seat and Spock came in closer, between those powerful thighs, and he was pressing his erection against Jim's and they began to stroke against one another, and they stayed that way a while, until Jim pulled back.
"Spock, let's be naked together. I like how your skin feels."
"Certainly, Jim," and Spock stood up and started taking off his clothes and laying them carefully on the ground. But since Jim was watching, he was suddenly diffident about taking off his last garment.
Jim stood up. He pulled off his briefs and sat back down, his knees still apart, his narrow waist, his strong chest and flat stomach all visible, and his hands back behind his head. "Get naked, Spock."
At that, Spock torn off his last garment and knelt in front of Jim. They kissed again and then, with his hands on Jim's knees, Spock leaned back and looked at Jim.
Who nodded his head.
Spock leaned over.
Hd had never done anything like this before, but it wasn't shocking; it was warm and comfortable and he heard Jim breathing and felt Jim pulsing and he wondered what it would be to like have Jim on top of him, to penetrate Jim's hard little body and move with him.
So far it seemed Jim was very responsive, but he might have some scruple about being penetrated.
Much as Spock wanted to do that.
Perhaps Jim would like to penetrate him; after all, he was inside Spock's warm mouth now and he was moaning softly.
Then he rustled around and pushed Spock away.
Spock said nothing; perhaps Jim . . . had . . .
"Spock, I only want to do what you want." Then he leaned over and kissed Spock, tasting Spock, tasting what Spock tasted.
And his hand moved down Spock's long body and gripped him. At the touch, Spock's head jerked back. "Jim, your touch is very . . . gratifying. Jim." And they kissed until they were both breathless as Jim moved his hand up and down Spock's erection, caressing him, cupping him, running his finger around the prominent crowns, touching their leaking tip.
"Spock, let me make it good for you. Let me take it up my ass."
Spock was very still.
"Feel me, Spock, feel how hard you make me." Then Jim placed his cool-skinned face against Spock's. "There's lubricant in the medkit."
And Spock reached over and got it without moving far from Jim and stroked the lubricant against himself and leaned back so he could put himself against Jim.
He kept looking at Jim's face, he wanted to see Jim's face to see if Jim were ready. Jim's eyes were closed.
They both breathed.
Then Jim opened his eyes. "Spock," he whispered. And Spock began to move ever so slowly into Jim, into Jim's warm smooth body.
He was no longer conscious that he was Spock, that Jim was Jim; all he was was something big and slick inside a tight wet heart; he could hear Jim sigh again and again. "Spock! Spock! I can't believe it. How big you are. My god! So good!"
Spock almost smiled. His eyes were narrowed in ecstasy, but he could still see Jim, the important parts of Jim. Jim's tight flesh, tight skin, hard cock, his wet asshole, and Spock put his hand, still lubricated, on Jim's cock and touched it again, stroking it towards him. By now, Jim had taken all of Spock's length inside him, his whole body tight against Spock's thighs, their warm blood thrumming together.
"A little more, Spock, just jerk a little more," Jim said in a liquid whisper.
Then without any warning, Jim was gulping air and Jim's cock was twitching and Spock felt the sudden wet warmth on his hand. A pause, a silence like thunder.
Then: "It's your turn, Spock, let me make it good."
And Jim began to move that well-muscled rump up and down on Spock's erection. Spock closed his eyes and his ears roared more than ever with the sound of the rain and Jim was murmuring something to him, and he could see nothing, but his body was sensitive all over, breathless, pausing, throbbing.
Then there was the least little neural pause and, like a chorus singing in his body, he began to come inside Jim, to dissolve with Jim's hard muscles around him, and he wanted nothing more than to lie back and let Jim's warm tight smooth flesh surround him forever.
Suddenly Jim was kissing him, and so Spock put his hand on the back of Jim's head and brought their lips tightly together until they were both breathless.
"It's big even when it's soft. I can still feel you all the way inside me," Jim gasped. "You are very good, Spock."
Spock slowly pumped several times and then withdrew and fell back to the floor of the cave.
Jim straddled him, wet and smooth, and kissed him again. "Did you enjoy that?"
Jim climbed off and lay by his side. "I don't want to change things."
"Jim, we are both grown men. We're responsible."
Jim turned his head to look at him. "I bet we both could find some people who would differ with that opinion."
Spock looked at him. Then: "Oh, you are joking."
"You're the best first officer in the fleet, but we're also friends, right? I don't want to ruin that dynamic."
"Jim, we will do as you like."
"No, we will do as *we* like." Jim was quiet for a moment. "Spock, that was the best sex I've ever had. My head is spinning. What happened before, that last time . . . well, we were at war. I can be a little fatalistic. As you probably know. But I never anticipated anything remotely like this." He took a deep breath. "I can't wait for you to get hard again. Can you tell that?"
"When is Mr. Scott supposed to contact us?"
"I told him I would contact him." Jim's eyes were darkened with doubt. "Spock, I want you to be free to say no."
"I wish to be free to say yes." He took his captain's hands. "Do you think we are the first soldiers to be lovers?"
"Like Alexander and his favorites?" Jim smiled. "Soldiers and lovers. I like that."
"Don't contact Mr. Scott for a while."