ObDisclaim: ParaBorg owns the Boys, and the Trekiverse.  I'm just playin' with 'em for a bit.  It's a dirty damn job, but somebody's gotta do it...

Contains m/m sex; if ye dinna like that, ye'll not like this.  If ye do, then read and enjoy!!

Inspired by the roundrobin TOS story, Auld Lang Syne.  This one was stuck, until I read that one and inspiration struck.

GOOD LOVIN'
 TOS K/S [NC17]

   James Kirk sighed.  Normally the prospect of R & R pleased him no end.  But right now the Enterprise was docked at StarBase 23, awaiting the arrival of Admiral Morrow, with new orders for them.  Why Morrow couldn't have sent the orders over subspace radio was a mystery known only to the admiral, his clerk, and the god of pissed-off starship captains.

   StarBase 23 was pleasant enough, as far as it went.  But for shore leave, it was sadly lacking.  There was only one bar, and Bones had described that as a mixture of Early StarFleet Tacky and 23rd Century Boring.  They only served replicated booze, and it wasn't very well replicated, at that.  Not a dancing girl or a tasty waiter anywhere.

   Not much of a place in which to celebrate the Terran custom of Midwinter Feast, but here they were, apparently for the duration.  No-one would tell them what Admiral Morrow had in mind, or how long they could expect to be here.  The Rec Department had promised a proper feast for later tonight, in the main Rec deck, but Jim couldn't help a certain feeling of disappointment, even so.  He'd been rather looking forward to going pub-crawling with Bones, with hopes of dragging Spock along to further his education, but that wasn't going to happen here.  Their original destination, Zeta Alcor VI, was famed for the number and quality of its drinking establishments.   A pox on all bureaucrats, he muttered to himself...

   He sighed again, initialed the fuel consumption report he'd been pretending to read, and gratefully handed over the conn to Sulu, who was taking a turn on Beta shift this month.  Glancing up, he saw that Spock was heading for the turbolift, leaving Chekov happily ensconced at Sciences, already absorbed in the scanners.

   The lift doors swished shut behind them, and Jim yawned, and ordered it to Deck 5.  He blinked, and rubbed his eyes.  "I thought this shift was *never* going to end," he groused.

   Spock favoured him with a quizzical look, and a raised eyebrow.  "I do not understand, Jim.  The shift was the same length as it always is."   There might have been the faintest twinkle, just then, in the black eyes.

   Jim groaned, knowing that he was being teased again.  Then he raised his own eyebrow, and shot back, "You know *exactly* what I mean, Spock."  He wouldn't *say* he'd been bored, of course. Every spacer knows that's just asking for trouble.  Nonetheless, bored is exactly what he'd been, and all damned day, at that.

   Spock's other eyebrow joined its partner, and now there was definitely a twinkle in those knowing black eyes.  "I see," murmured the Vulcan, his deep voice doing the most *interesting* things to Jim's insides.  "If I understand you correctly, you are expressing a wish to be entertained, or excited."   He leaned over and activated the lift controls.  "All stop.   Authorization Spock Beta One, Alpha Two, 279."  He turned to face the human, and allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk into that faint half-smile he reserved for Jim alone.  "Perhaps I can be of assistance..."

   "In a *turbolift*?"  Jim was grinning now, feeling horny and embarrassed all at once.  "Uh, Spock..."

   Two very warm fingers were laid across his lips, shushing him.     "Jim.  Do you trust me?"    "Of course I do.  But what..."    "Then allow me to demonstrate, t'hy'la."  No sooner said than done, and Jim found himself pressed against the wall of the turbolift, wrapped in a fierce warm hug, and being kissed within an inch of his life.  His initial surprise was rapidly replaced by arousal, heat pooling in his belly and filling his groin. Suddenly it seemed too hot in here -- but god, it felt *good*. He returned the hug, brushing his hips against the Vulcan, enjoying the sensation of the tight uniform pants restraining his suddenly eager erection.

   "Mmmm..."    Spock bent his head, to lick and nibble at the side of the human's neck.  Jim responded eagerly, rubbing himself against his lover, savouring the flash of heat between his legs, the pleasant ache beginning in his balls.  He had to gasp, to catch his breath.  And then he turned, to nibble languidly at the tip of one elegantly pointed ear.  "My dear Mr. Spock," he purred. "Are you propositioning me?"

   "Indeed," came the reply, the deep voice getting a little hoarse, now.  Two warm hands worked their way under the human's gold shirt, caressing and pinching, stroking his nipples, sending little shivers of delight thoughout Jim's body.   A hot, pointed tongue traced the veins in his throat, and sharp white teeth nipped at his earlobe.  And all this time Spock was moving against him, swaying his hips back and forth, pressing Jim between the hard wall of the lift, and his own eager hardness. One fine-boned hand came up, to caress the human's face, and with each stroke of those warm dry fingers, a pleasant thrill of awareness shot through Jim's nerves, a tingling electric sensation, spreading from the place where that hand touched his skin.   He could feel Spock's thoughts, brushing against his own -- and what the Vulcan was thinking made him even hornier.

   "...oh..."  Again he had to fight for air, but he found that he didn't mind it a bit.  All his attention was caught up in the embrace, in the things Spock's hands were doing, to his skin, and his nervous system.  He reached around the tall, slim form, running possessive hands over his lover's ass, reaching up under the blue tunic, to find and pinch the small, hard nipples.

   Spock made a sound like a growl, and bent his head to capture he human's lips again.  At the same time, he pulled Jim closer, until they were pressed up against one another from head to toe.  And then he began to move in earnest.

   Very quickly Jim found himself drawn into it; as the other moved against him he thrust his hips outward, again and again, his arms wrapped about the Vulcan, holding him tightly.  Their mouths met, tasting one another, drinking deep.  Shivers of pleasure were trickling down his spine, and pooling in his belly.  He felt as hard as a rock -- and yet, rather than his usual wish to throw off all his clothes and pounce, he found himself enjoying just what they were doing.  Something about being here in the lift, and still fully clothed, excited him even more.  It reminded him of his days at the Academy, when clandestine meetings in stairwells and back rooms were a favourite pastime among the cadets.  Only this time they weren't going to get caught by some snooping teacher with a doorpass...

   One hot Vulcan hand worked its way down the back of his trousers, caressing the cheeks of his ass, poking down into the cleft between, teasing him even more.   The tip of a finger touched, then entered -- and that did it.  That most intimate of touches lit the fire inside him.  Shuddering, gasping, clutching the other, feeling like his balls were boiling over, Jim came. The sudden heat and wetness between them and the sensations he felt from his lover's mind were enough to tip Spock over the edge, too; he cried out, his head thrown back, as his own climax roared through him.  For some time then, they simply held each other, as the last few ripples of pleasure  washed over them both.

   Finally Jim reached up, to steal another kiss.  "Ah... Spock -- mmm, *gods!*  I haven't done that in years, more fool me."  He kissed him again.

   The Vulcan returned the kiss, savouring the taste of his human's skin.   Then, curious as always, he looked down into the beloved hazel eyes.  "I was not aware you had done this before, t'hy'la..."  One quizzical eyebrow was raised, inviting a response.

   Jim grinned his very best evil grin.  "Ah, well, you see, it's been a while, Spock.  But, um, let's just say, when I was a cadet, what you and I just indulged in was known as a "gentlemanly Bostonian fuck".  It was a safe way to have a bit of fun, without getting caught quite so easily."  Then he stepped back, looked down between them, and laughed delightedly.

   "I have to tell you, though -- we blew it.  You're supposed to put some tissue down your pants, first, you see -- that way you don't get all, um, wet."

   Spock also looked down, to where the evidence of their activity was damply visible on them both.  "I see."  The corners of his mouth quirked upwards again.  "It is fortunate that the uniform trousers are black, is it not?   Perhaps it would be wise to change to dry clothes, before we go down to the Rec deck this evening..."

   Jim laughed again.  "Perhaps it would, at that."  Then he reached up, to steal one last kiss.  "And thank you.  You sure know how to get me out of a bad mood."

   The tall lean form held him tightly for a moment, before Spock stepped back and reached for the lift controls.  "I, too, found today somewhat tedious.   It seemed a logical alternative. But we shall have to remember the tissues, next time."

   "*Next* time, hmmm?  Well...  Spock, you'd better get this lift going again, or we're *never* going to make it to the party tonight."

   "Indeed...  Of course, that might not be a problem..." One last half-smile.  Then, not without a certain reluctance, Spock started the lift again, and they headed for their quarters, and some clean clothes.  And maybe a shower...  Hmm.  Jim leaned back against the wall, watching his favourite set of tasty buns, and thought about that.  Maybe they didn't need to go to that party tonight; there were other ways to celebrate the Midwinter Feast...

   Life was *good*, sometimes.

                                     -----/end/-----

Submitted for your approval, Greywolf the Wanderer