Silent Night | STXI | R
Title: Silent Night
Author: my_kurama
Beta:awarrington (who could not be a more amazing individual if she tried)
Series: STXI
Rating: R
Length: 2659
Warnings: Not too terribly graphic pron.
Summary: Spock and Jim have been apart for two weeks, they come together just in time for Christmas. Fluffy pron ensues.
Jim Kirk is on top of the world. His lady is sitting pretty in dry dock, getting some much needed repairs. His crew have hit the half-way point in their five year mission nearly intact, and for the first time since that mission began, shore leave has fallen on the entire month of December.
Spock spent the first half of his leave on Vulcan II with Sarek. He would be returning this evening, just in time to celebrate Christmas Eve with his captain and love.
Jim has everything prepared in the modest San Francisco apartment they share on leave. A small, real Blue-Spruce sits in the corner, dotted with white lights and glass ornaments, casting a twinkly glow on the cozy living room.
He put his meager cooking skills to use in preparing a delicious-looking (sadly vegetarian) meal, and carefully pulls a tray of nearly perfect looking cookies out of the oven. After scooping the last of them onto a tray, he turns and surveys his work. Everything looks delicious and inviting (even if the Tofurkey scares the hell of out him). He would much prefer a giant real turkey, brimming with stuffing to the suspicious looking thing by the potatoes, but he wants everything to be just to Spock’s taste.
Spock will probably say that the tree has a cloying smell and isn’t it illogical to drag a dead tree in and out of the apartment - but Jim knows that deep down, he appreciates all the effort to make their apartment a home. He knows from the handful of times they’ve spoken of the holidays that Amanda always made certain to observe the holiday on Vulcan, teaching Spock about wise men, snow and reindeer.
He honestly can’t wait to see his lover’s reaction, and especially to see his face. For two solid weeks their only face to face communication has been through vid comms and that just hasn’t been enough. His arms itch to enfold that beloved body with his own - the tentative telepathic bond between them is a constant reminder of the distance. For Jim, the bond is a dull awareness of vague things like whether his other half is awake or asleep, occasionally if he’s aggravated or turned on. Most of Spock’s more specific, deeper emotions are suppressed at a further subconscious level and don’t reach Jim’s mind. From what Spock has told him, the sensations on his end are much more precise. He can tell right now that Spock is awake and misses him whereas the Vulcan can probably sense that he is awake, excited, anxious and a little hot - the difference being the human brain’s low telepathic capacity and Jim being such an open broadcaster. Very little study has been done on the effects of Vulcan mating bonds on humans, as the pairing is still so rare.
Just as he settles on the couch to wait, he casts one last nervous look at the base of the tree, where the hope for his entire future lays hidden beneath the prickly branches. He is almost certain it will be received well, but even a man like Jim Kirk has occasional doubts.
He finds himself staring into the white lights of the tree, his gaze becoming disjointed and out of focus until they begin to look like stars, and he fades gently into sleep.
Spock is silent as he enters their home, having sensed that Jim has been unsuccessful in his fervid attempt to stay awake until his return. There was a technical malfunction when the instrument landing system failed to lock into the ground-based navigation beacon at the San Francisco shuttleport. A visual approach might have been allowed at a less busy location, but unless an emergency was declared, it was deemed far too risky with so much other traffic around.This caused him to arrive at their doorstep three hours later than expected. A faint blue light flickers from the bedroom console, indicating that the message explaining his delay has not been read. Jim is curled up on the couch, drooling onto the silk cushion tucked tightly in his arms.
The Vulcan takes a moment to drink in the sight of his mate, allowing himself a moment of raw emotion. He found himself occupied constantly on the colony, both with his father and a biological research team. Despite the extent to which these activities engaged his attention, thoughts of Jim were never far from the front of his mind. He found it difficult to concentrate on discussions of the importance of lichen growth cycles when the bond suffused his mind with flashes of lust and longing from his lover. It is almost a physical relief to see the sun kissed skin, to smell the unique old-books-and-fresh-soap smell that is uniquely Jim Kirk, mixed with the sharp smell of pine.
The tree. Spock almost allows himself a smile at the effort Jim has gone through on his behalf. The only time of year his mother insisted on returning to Terra was Christmas. Her eyes used to light up every time she saw the Grayson family’s tree, decorated to perfection. He realizes for the hundredth time just how much Amanda would have loved Jim. Both of them had such room in their hearts, apt to tackling the herculean task of being in a relationship with a Vulcan.
The cold food on the table still smells inviting, reminding him that it has been some time since his last meal - missing Jim can be very distracting. He ignores his hunger and attends to the more pressing of his personal needs, bending over Jim and kissing his forehead. Immediately those ice blue eyes shoot open and steal his breath, just as they do every time. They kiss instantly; the press of those familiar lips is more like home than any planet ever will be again.
“You’re late,” Jim purrs between kisses. “Made dinner and everything.”
“My apologies, T’hy’la, there was an unavoidable delay with the shuttle. I would not have chosen to be parted from you a minute longer.”
“Good enough,” he mutters, before sealing their mouths together, pouring every ounce of ‘I missed you’ into the kiss.
In a very uncharacteristic move, Jim is the first to pull away, closing his eyes and attempting to gather himself as he sits up and draws Spock onto the couch beside him.
“Since we already missed dinner, I think it’s time for presents - unless you’d like me to heat a something up for us.
“Since it is already cold, I propose we postpone dinner further, in favor of exchanging gifts. Since my delay spoiled your plans for the evening, allow me to present you with my gift first.” Jim smiles and doesn’t protest. He loves presents.
Spock reaches into the bag he left on the table earlier and extracts a red velvet box, smaller than a shoebox, depositing it in his lover’s waiting hands. Kirk tugs away the ribbon with the haste of a child, removing the lid and tossing it behind the couch - much to Spock’s exasperation.
A sharp intake of breath echoes around the living room as blue eyes fall upon the small object in the box. With careful fingers, Jim pulls on the attached string, lifting out a perfect, shining replica of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Not the plastic kind children pester their mothers for, but a painstakingly detailed rendition of the flagship, cast in silver, slightly larger than the palm of Jim’s hand.
“Spock it’s perfect,” he whispers, as he dangles it between them, taking in every tiny detail.
“I am gratified you find it so. I was able to commission it on Andoria during our last mission there.”
He is blessed with that radiant smile as Jim stands and finds the perfect place on the tree, where it reflects the lights and gleams like the real one. Before returning to the couch, he palms the tiny black box and gathers his courage.
Spock eyes him warily as Jim perches on the edge of the couch and pushes the box into sensitive Vulcan hands. A sharp wave of nervousness permeates the bond, the like of which his lover usually feels during tense diplomatic negotiations.
Just as Kirk imagined he would, Spock opens the box and stares at its contents, not uttering a sound, no hint of an emotion on his face - not even surprise. The blond slides off the couch onto one knee, taking his first officer’s hand into his own.
“Spock.” He stills himself as though preparing for some great effort. “S’chn T’gai Spock,” he smiles to himself for getting that one out. “You are everything a man could ask for in a partner. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. The entire universe changed around us and it still wasn’t enough to keep you from me. I know the bond already exists between us, but I’d like to do this the earth way too. You are my family, T’hy’la. Marry me?”
Spock is quiet a moment longer before he allows the slow smile to flow into his eyes.
“Yes, Jim.”
Resisting the urge to yell and punch the air, Jim grins from ear to ear, his blue eyes sparkling with affection. Joy floods his body like a tangible wave - he never hoped to think he would find someone like Spock. Someone whose mind and body fit to his own as though they were always meant to be one - some force stronger than fate drawing them together across the fabric of time. He fleetingly wished he could speak with a nine year old Jimmy Kirk and tell him that no matter how bad things got, how lonely and empty the world seemed - one day an amazing, intelligent and beautiful man named Spock would make come along and all that seem a distant memory.
He takes the simple titanium ring from the box and slides it onto Spock’s waiting finger, where it fits perfectly.
“This was the wedding ring my father gave my mother. I had it altered, of course. I told the jeweler it had to be perfectly smooth so it wouldn’t aggravate your fingers. If it’s uncomfortable to wear, we can have a chain made or something, your dad said it should be okay…”
“My father knew of this?”
A very un-Captainly blush creeps across Jim’s cheeks.
“Yeah, I wanted to do this right so I paid him a visit before the two of you left for the Colony, when I told you I was meeting Bones. I sort of asked his permission. It was one of the most embarrassing conversations I’ve ever had, you know he scares me - but he was surprisingly cool about it. Said he understood my “desire to be human about this matter”. I hope you don’t mind that I asked, I know that’s more of an old Terran thing but…”
Spock presses a finger to the plump lips. “Cease babbling Jim. I can think of no proposal I would prefer to this. I…” Kirk can tell that his lover is struggling with his Vulcan control, attempting to convey how he feels.
“I have never wished for something as much as I have you. I desire to proclaim to our friends my desire to spend all my days beside you. You are everything to me.” Jim’s answering smile is brighter than Vulcan’s former sun. Unable to wait any longer; Spock pulls Jim up and into his lap, enjoying the familiar feel of the strong thighs framing his own
After so long apart, their bodies flow together like water, kisses and caresses dissolving into one another. Jim’s flushed skin feels cool under Spock’s hands, a balm to the insatiable desire he will always carry for this man. The human’s favorite blue shirt loses a few buttons as lust becomes stronger than reason and clothes are shorn in a breathless frenzy. Spock uses one arm to lean Jim away from him, granting himself full access to the heaving chest and throat. Hearing his name uttered in a breathless whisper shreds his last vestige of tenuous control. He grips Jim’s ass and lifts him up, standing in one effortless motion.
The blond emits a low chuckle. “I love it when you get impatient.”
The trip to the bed has given the Vulcan a moment to regain his composure, allowing him to un-wrap Jim like a delicious gift. Every patch of newly revealed skin is worshiped with questing fingers and an eager mouth. The idea of being publicly joined with his T’hy’la is the most erotic thought to ever cross his mind, setting fire to his body.
Kirk, for his part, lies back and attempts to put aside his eagerness in favor of being explored with reverential tenderness. His patience is rewarded when his fiancé removes his own clothes in the slow, tantalizing way that sends Kirk spiraling into a fit of lust.
Spock kneels between Jim’s splayed legs, kissing a path of flame from knee to muscled thigh, skipping the engorged cock and trailing down the other leg. The desperate mewl that meets his ears causes his own member to jump in anticipation.
“Please Spock, no teasing, not tonight. I need to feel you in me.”
Before the last word is out of his mouth, Spock has obligingly retrieved the lubricant and drizzled it onto his fingers, preparing Jim’s entrance with the utmost care.
When the tell-tale upward shift of the hips signals his work is done, Spock leans over his mate with one arm, staring deeply into his eyes before joining their bodies in one smooth stroke. The tight clench of the body below him and the passionate cries would undo a lesser man in an instant, making him grateful for his Vulcan training. From some dark place the thought wells up that all the training in the world won’t save either of them when the fires of Pon Farr are ignited. But they have time. He would think of something, some way, to ensure he didn’t damage the one he loved so much.
Jim tangled their bodies together every way he knew how, dragging blunt nails through soft flesh as he murmured how happy he was, how much he loved Spock.
“That’s it baby, right there. I need you so much, need all of you,” he cries, matching Spock’s quick thrusts with his own, pulling their bodies together as hard as he can. He bites the green-tinged skin where neck meets shoulder, plunging one hand through the mussed raven hair, the other joining their hands in a sloppy Vulcan kiss.
“T’hy’la,” Spock moans, standard disappearing in his mind until all he can do is whimper in broken Vulcan.
Recognizing that his own release is imminent, he reaches between their bodies and grips Jim’s weeping cock, stroking with a twist of the wrist in time to his thrusts until he hears Jim scream his release, feeling his hand and Jim’s muscled belly splattered with come.
The broken shout alone would have been enough to push the Vulcan over the edge but paired with the rhythmic clenching of the tight channel around his cock, Spock’s release is wrung from him, every muscle quivering in ecstasy.
He removes himself from Jim’s body, rolling to the side before collapsing, utterly spent.
As he struggles to regain his breath, Jim joins their hands and brings them to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the finger that bears his ring.
“Merry Christmas, Spock.”
“I had not thought I would derive pleasure from this holiday again. As usual, you have seen fit to prove my assumptions incorrect. Merry Christmas to you as well, beloved.”
The meal remains uneaten, morning breaks quietly over the city around them, and Christmas fades into a nameless winter’s day. They take notice of nothing but each other, planning their future and enjoying every silent moment together.