[TWBI] Heat
Title: Heat
Series: That Would Be Illogical
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,135
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: This is not the first illogical action I have ever participated in because of James Tiberius Kirk. I doubt it will be the last. Masterlist
Previous: Diplomatic Fumbles
"You are hot."
"Hell yeah I am," Jim mumbles sleepily against my forehead, tightening his embrace around me so that what little space had been between our nude bodies disappears.
"I was not referring to your aesthetic appeal," I say into his collarbone. "You are overheating."
My finger tips brush against his back. The surface temperature of his skin is far too high for normal human standards. Given the circumstances, it is certainly logical. He is lying in bed under thick sheets, clutching a warm Vulcan body in a room set to a Vulcan's comfort levels. And it is post-coitus. For once I dislike my body's natural high temperature.
"Computer, lower room temperature 17 degrees." The computer responds to my command with a small ding. I feel the air shift slightly as the room begins to grow cooler.
I move a hand up to place it on his forehead. His temperature is roughly 39.15 degrees. "We must cool your core temperature before you become ill."
I attempt to pull myself from the bed, but Jim refuses to let me go.
"Don' worry 'bout it." His speech is slurred. He did not have large quantities of alcohol thankfully or his condition would be even worse. It appears his behavior while 'half asleep' is similar to his behavior while he is drunk, if somewhat more subdued.
"Ji-" I am suddenly interrupted by his mouth barraging mine. His tongue slips passed by lips and I involuntarily open my mouth, welcoming his insistence to deepen the kiss. My arms loop around his neck and draw him closer. His tongue and mouth are much warmer than usual, making the kiss feel strangely foreign but his technique is familiar. He pulls away from the kiss by only a centimeter and huffs warm, moist air over my lips. I shiver, though I am not cold.
"Jim," I attempt again, my voice suddenly low and hoarse.
He grunts, starting to kiss cheekbone.
I will myself to concentrate on the fact that his health is at risk and compose myself. "Allow me to leave so that I may procure water and ice."
"Ne'er."
My eyebrow twitches with annoyance. I place my palms on his chest and, using my Vulcan strength, push myself out of his arms, earning myself a groan. As I slip out of the bed, Jim lazily scrambles to try and grab me to pull me back.
"Where're you goin'?"
I do not answer as I go to the replicator in my quarters for a glass of water and an ice pack. The colder air nips at my bare skin but I ignore it. When I return, I find him sprawled across the bed on his stomach, his head leaning over the edge of the bed in an uncomfortable-looking manner. I place the glass on the shelf behind the bed. I nudge his shoulder and he shifts, placing his self back in to his original position, lying on his back, head on his pillow. He grabs my arm and pulls me down so I am sitting on the bed, leaning over him.
He is beautiful. I rarely allow myself the pleasure of studying him. His body gleams from the red environmental panels shining off the sweat that covers it. My nostrils are filled with his arousing scent. His blond hair is untidy. His chest, only slightly discolored from bruising, raises and falls to a steady, but quick, tempo. I am almost tempted to leave him to sleep, but he is starting to hyperventilate.
I place the bag of ice on his forehead.
He jumps and his eyes shoot open. His hand suddenly shoots up and grabs my wrist. He looks up at me, surprised. "What?"
"You are overheating." I release myself from his grasp, leaving the ice bag, and grab the water from the nightstand. By the time I bring it over he has sat up, holding the ice to the back of his neck.
He accepts the water, though he does not drink it. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?" he asks, surprisingly serious.
"It is just you."
Jim looks at me, and smirks.
"We should refrain from such activities in my room. You have a tendency to overheat."
He shrugs. "It's alright. You're uncomfortable in my room." He gulps down most of the water and sets the glass on the nightstand.
It has only been three months since we started our physically intimate relationship. We usually will have intercourse - a word Jim normally dissuades me from using because he claims it sounds too clinical - in his quarters, however there are times when he seeks me out in mine and I find it difficult to refuse his needs to satisfy his 'infamous' sexual drive. I mostly agree because I also enjoy our lovemaking, but I cannot deny the niggling feeling of fear at the back of my mind that if I do not, he will expend it on someone else. Either way, each time we have done it in my quarters, his body temperature increases to dangerous levels. The first time, I had not considered it and he had a heat stroke. I am far more cautious now. If only to avoid another of Dr. McCoy's 'infamous' lectures.
"Mild discomfort is preferable to illness," I retort.
He frowns. "You never let me change the temperature in my room."
"They are your quarters."
"You just changed the temperature in your room! My room's always too cold for you. I don't like to see you shivering unless I'm the one causing it. Preferably with my tongue."
I feel myself blushing a darker shade of green. I quirk an eyebrow. "There are ways to increase my body temperature."
He looks at me with a mild surprise expression before it morphs into a large smirk. "Yeah, I'm more than capable of heating you up." He winks.
I allow myself a small smile. "Indeed."
Before he can respond, I am unable to contain a shiver running through my body from sitting naked the cooler implemented climate.
Jim suddenly tosses the ice pack on the floor and grabs my arm, dragging me back under the covers and into the residual warmth. He lays me down and crawls on top of me, positioning his self between my legs, which I spread to accommodate him. He leans down. "I think I'm beginning to see the merits of your argument, Mr. Spock."
I feel hot, moist breath blossom on my neck and warm arousal spreads through my body. My arms wrap around his neck again and my back arches up in an attempt to increase our amount of touching surface area. "Good," I say breathlessly. "Perhaps you should make attempts to implement this method more frequently."
He laughs. "I don't think that'll be a problem."
Next: Motorbike
Series: That Would Be Illogical
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,135
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: This is not the first illogical action I have ever participated in because of James Tiberius Kirk. I doubt it will be the last. Masterlist
Previous: Diplomatic Fumbles
"You are hot."
"Hell yeah I am," Jim mumbles sleepily against my forehead, tightening his embrace around me so that what little space had been between our nude bodies disappears.
"I was not referring to your aesthetic appeal," I say into his collarbone. "You are overheating."
My finger tips brush against his back. The surface temperature of his skin is far too high for normal human standards. Given the circumstances, it is certainly logical. He is lying in bed under thick sheets, clutching a warm Vulcan body in a room set to a Vulcan's comfort levels. And it is post-coitus. For once I dislike my body's natural high temperature.
"Computer, lower room temperature 17 degrees." The computer responds to my command with a small ding. I feel the air shift slightly as the room begins to grow cooler.
I move a hand up to place it on his forehead. His temperature is roughly 39.15 degrees. "We must cool your core temperature before you become ill."
I attempt to pull myself from the bed, but Jim refuses to let me go.
"Don' worry 'bout it." His speech is slurred. He did not have large quantities of alcohol thankfully or his condition would be even worse. It appears his behavior while 'half asleep' is similar to his behavior while he is drunk, if somewhat more subdued.
"Ji-" I am suddenly interrupted by his mouth barraging mine. His tongue slips passed by lips and I involuntarily open my mouth, welcoming his insistence to deepen the kiss. My arms loop around his neck and draw him closer. His tongue and mouth are much warmer than usual, making the kiss feel strangely foreign but his technique is familiar. He pulls away from the kiss by only a centimeter and huffs warm, moist air over my lips. I shiver, though I am not cold.
"Jim," I attempt again, my voice suddenly low and hoarse.
He grunts, starting to kiss cheekbone.
I will myself to concentrate on the fact that his health is at risk and compose myself. "Allow me to leave so that I may procure water and ice."
"Ne'er."
My eyebrow twitches with annoyance. I place my palms on his chest and, using my Vulcan strength, push myself out of his arms, earning myself a groan. As I slip out of the bed, Jim lazily scrambles to try and grab me to pull me back.
"Where're you goin'?"
I do not answer as I go to the replicator in my quarters for a glass of water and an ice pack. The colder air nips at my bare skin but I ignore it. When I return, I find him sprawled across the bed on his stomach, his head leaning over the edge of the bed in an uncomfortable-looking manner. I place the glass on the shelf behind the bed. I nudge his shoulder and he shifts, placing his self back in to his original position, lying on his back, head on his pillow. He grabs my arm and pulls me down so I am sitting on the bed, leaning over him.
He is beautiful. I rarely allow myself the pleasure of studying him. His body gleams from the red environmental panels shining off the sweat that covers it. My nostrils are filled with his arousing scent. His blond hair is untidy. His chest, only slightly discolored from bruising, raises and falls to a steady, but quick, tempo. I am almost tempted to leave him to sleep, but he is starting to hyperventilate.
I place the bag of ice on his forehead.
He jumps and his eyes shoot open. His hand suddenly shoots up and grabs my wrist. He looks up at me, surprised. "What?"
"You are overheating." I release myself from his grasp, leaving the ice bag, and grab the water from the nightstand. By the time I bring it over he has sat up, holding the ice to the back of his neck.
He accepts the water, though he does not drink it. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?" he asks, surprisingly serious.
"It is just you."
Jim looks at me, and smirks.
"We should refrain from such activities in my room. You have a tendency to overheat."
He shrugs. "It's alright. You're uncomfortable in my room." He gulps down most of the water and sets the glass on the nightstand.
It has only been three months since we started our physically intimate relationship. We usually will have intercourse - a word Jim normally dissuades me from using because he claims it sounds too clinical - in his quarters, however there are times when he seeks me out in mine and I find it difficult to refuse his needs to satisfy his 'infamous' sexual drive. I mostly agree because I also enjoy our lovemaking, but I cannot deny the niggling feeling of fear at the back of my mind that if I do not, he will expend it on someone else. Either way, each time we have done it in my quarters, his body temperature increases to dangerous levels. The first time, I had not considered it and he had a heat stroke. I am far more cautious now. If only to avoid another of Dr. McCoy's 'infamous' lectures.
"Mild discomfort is preferable to illness," I retort.
He frowns. "You never let me change the temperature in my room."
"They are your quarters."
"You just changed the temperature in your room! My room's always too cold for you. I don't like to see you shivering unless I'm the one causing it. Preferably with my tongue."
I feel myself blushing a darker shade of green. I quirk an eyebrow. "There are ways to increase my body temperature."
He looks at me with a mild surprise expression before it morphs into a large smirk. "Yeah, I'm more than capable of heating you up." He winks.
I allow myself a small smile. "Indeed."
Before he can respond, I am unable to contain a shiver running through my body from sitting naked the cooler implemented climate.
Jim suddenly tosses the ice pack on the floor and grabs my arm, dragging me back under the covers and into the residual warmth. He lays me down and crawls on top of me, positioning his self between my legs, which I spread to accommodate him. He leans down. "I think I'm beginning to see the merits of your argument, Mr. Spock."
I feel hot, moist breath blossom on my neck and warm arousal spreads through my body. My arms wrap around his neck again and my back arches up in an attempt to increase our amount of touching surface area. "Good," I say breathlessly. "Perhaps you should make attempts to implement this method more frequently."
He laughs. "I don't think that'll be a problem."
Next: Motorbike