"Not Fade Away"
TOS, K/S, PWP, NC17
Toy Challenge Story

 Jim whistled jauntily as he checked their quarters one last time.   He was trying to make sure that everything was ready. 

 Toy bag -- check.  Oils -- check.  Finger food -- check. Candles ready to light, soft Vulcan music loaded and ready to play.  The bed was freshly made; everything was clean, soft, and warm.  He had turned up the heat an hour ago.   Not to full Vulcan levels, but enough to make his mate comfortable.  He would turn it up again, when the time came.

 He was ready.  He had bathed, then smoothed coconut oil into his skin, luxuriating in the feel and the scent of it.  He dressed slowly, savouring the soft glide of the silken robe over his newly sensitized skin, enjoying the way the deep red silk enhanced his colouring, and accentuated the shapes of his body. Jim Kirk had always enjoyed his body and the pleasure he could give to a lover, but since his bonding with Spock, he had learned more of such things than he'd ever thought possible, before.

 Two bottles stood in the chiller.  One was a light Argelian spring wine.   The other, smaller bottle held an herbal Vulcan beverage known as T'sia'shemqyat.   Non-alcoholic, it served to slightly heighten telepathic and sensory receptiveness.   They had shared it once or twice before, and found the experience a pleasant one.

 Tonight marked one Vulcan year exactly, since their Bonding ceremony.  Spock hadn't mentioned the date, but Jim had been planning this for some time.  Tonight was for Spock, for pure pleasure, to return some of that gift the Vulcan had so often, and so willingly, given him.  Jim hummed happily to himself as he walked around their rooms again.

 Ah.  There -- the fresher was running.  Time to light the candles and put some incense on the firepot.  Spock would be here any moment now.

 They had given the conn to Scotty tonight; the chief engineer had smiled, and promised not to bother them for the devil himself, much less such puny mortals as Admirals or FleetCom.

 Mmm...  This was going to be *fun*.  Smiling, he started the music player.

 The door from the fresher swished open, and Spock stood for a moment, surveying the results of Jim's efforts.  His hair was still damp from the shower, and he had left it uncombed, knowing his human loved to play with it.  He had donned a loose Vulcan robe of forest-green silk; it accentuated his own colouring. Now he gave a small nod of appreciation, and padded into the room, moving with that easy feline grace of his that Jim both loved and envied.

 "Mmm..." purred the human.  "You look good enough to eat!"   

 One slanted black eyebrow rose, and the corners of Spock's mouth lifted in the faint half-smile he reserved for Jim alone. He lifted one hand for the Bondmate's Touch, then stepped forward into the outstretched arms of his mate.  "T'hy'la," he murmured, nuzzling at a cool human throat.  Jim felt his pulse rate kick up a notch.

 "Mmmm..."  Two faces turned toward one another, and they lost themselves in a kiss.

 It was like this every time.  It had been since the beginning. Jim was simply overhwelmed, utterly undone by the feel of warm Vulcan skin against his own.  By the faint copper and musk scent that was Spock's, always stronger when he was aroused.   By the delicate electric tingle of his bondmate's thoughts, as those long slim fingers brushed against his face.

 "T'hy'la... come and sit down.  It was a long day for you, wasn't it?"

 The Vulcan nodded, slightly, and leaned in to steal one more kiss.  Then he allowed himself to be escorted to the table. That faint half-smile graced his features again, as he took in its contents. 

 Fresh fruit, both Vulcan and Terran.  Artichoke hearts.  Olives -- both the black ones Jim loved, and the pungent green ones that Spock preferred.  Assorted cheeses.  Mushrooms in garlic butter.  And a pot of melted chocolate, to dip the fruit in -- McCoy would no doubt have scowled at that last but since he wasn't here, that didn't matter.  He allowed Jim to guide him to a chair.

 Jim took the other chair, then leaned forward and clasped his bondmate's hands between his own.  "One year, tonight," he murmured.  "And it's been the best year of my life.  I thought it might be nice for me to pamper you, for a change..."

 "Indeed..."  Spock was intrigued.  Jim's eyes were so bright, in the warm candlelight; they sparkled back at him, as he gazed into them.  A pleasant warmth was already gathering within him. "I must admit, it is... an attractive proposition..."  The warm tone of his voice belied the dry choice of words.

 Jim just grinned, reached for a mushroom, and offered it to him, making a show of placing it in Spock's mouth, and caressing the Vulcan's lips with a fingertip, afterwards.   Spock closed his eyes and savoured the taste, as he chewed.  He did not often permit himself such things.  But tonight was a special occasion, and one that Jim had obviously put much thought into.  This once, he decided, he would indulge.

 Having finished the mushroom, he opened his eyes, and took the small glass of T'sia'shemqyat that Jim had put in front of him. He waited, for Jim to lift his own glass.   "A toast, I believe, is customary, is it not?"  The human nodded, smiling.  "Then," Spock murmured, "I propose a toast -- to this crew and this ship, for bringing you to me."

 Jim's smile grew, if anything, brighter.  "To this crew and this ship -- for bringing *you* to *me*."  They touched their glasses together, drank.   The T'sia' was tart, pungently herbal, just slightly effervescent.  His first taste, some months ago, had surprised the human, but he'd grown to rather like it.   It tickled, faintly, in the back of his throat, as he swallowed it.

 The effects were subtle; if a red alert had sounded right then, he would have been quite capable of carrying out his duties. Everything was just -- a little clearer, a little brighter.  It was as though their Bond were a banked fire, now stirring fitfully to life.  He could feel Spock's thoughts in his, the gathering warmth within them both.

 Now it was Jim's turn.  He closed his eyes, and tasted sharp orange cheese, and dark,. bittersweet chocolate.  And the combination worked; it was good.  He savoured it for a while, then returned the favour, smiling when he saw the look of pleasure on the Vulcan's face.  <<you, my bondmate, are a sensualist.>>   Only with him did Spock permit this to show...

 <<perhaps -- but it is you who makes me so, t'hy'la.>>  And again that faint half-smile flickered across the lean face.

 <<mmm... smartest thing i ever did, saying yes to you...>>

 <<i admit to a certain... satisfaction, myself.>>  Now the taste surprising Spock's mouth was strawberry and chocolate, which called for a moment's respectful contemplation.

 Artichoke, it was agreed by both, went quite well with garlic butter.  Olives were best alone, thought Spock, though Jim did not agree.  Mushrooms were good with garlic butter.  Spock tried putting chocolate on one and pronounced it good.   Jim just shuddered at the idea, and declined to taste that particular combination.

 After a time, both men were full, and much of the food had vanished.  Jim proposed that they retire to the bed, so he could give his mate a back rub.  Spock agreed, and Jim nudged the heat up another 10 degrees.  Then he slowly removed the Vulcan's robe, with many a pause for kisses and caresses.  Finally he had Spock lie down on his stomach, on the bed.

 *Ahhh...*  Jim feasted his eyes on his mate's wide shoulders, the deceptively lean build that hid powerful muscles against those long bones.  Narrow waist and slender hips -- Jim scooped a little coconut oil into his hands and began to spread it on the hollows just above the slim, furred cheeks.   "Mmm..." he murmured, stroking the rich oil into that so-warm skin, "fuzzy buns..."

 There was a faint muffled sound, that might have been the ghost of a chuckle.   Jim just concentrated on what he was doing, letting his fingers express for him the extent of his love.  He knew that this part of Spock's body was especially responsive to touch; the effect, for the Vulcan, was much like what Jim felt when Spock caressed the insides of his thighs.  Little shivers of delight skittered through them both, running back and forth along the silver strands of their Bond.  Spock shifted under his hands, unable to remain still any longer.

 Jim smiled, and sat back for a moment.  The smile grew wider at the soft murmur of protest this produced.  He bent down to plant a trail of little kisses and licks down the other's spine.  He circled Spock's waist with his hands, then drew his fingers softly down the Vulcan's flanks, gradually moving around till he finished by caressing the insides of his knees.

 A barely stifled moan was his reward.  "Shh..." he purred, "we're just getting started, love."  He drew one finger up the inside of each lightly furred thigh, stopping just short of the warm, firm cheeks.  Then he stooped lower, to kiss and nibble at the backs of Spock's knees.

 "...ahh..."  It was a barely audible whisper.

 Jim looked up, and saw gooseflesh appearing.  "Are you cold, t'hy'la?"

 "...no...  I am... this, what you are doing -- ah!"  This last, in response to a swipe of Jim's tongue across the tops of Spock's thighs.

 "Do you want me to stop, let you catch your breath for a bit?"

 "No... please -- more..."  The deep voice was soft, still little more than a pleading whisper.

 More coconut oil, and now he started to rub Spock down in earnest, beginning at the back of his neck and working down from there.  Now that the Vulcan had relaxed somewhat, Jim was able to find and ease the knots in his shoulders and back.

 He loved doing this; loved the sensuous feel of the other's silk-furred skin under his hands, the rapid drumbeat of his heart in his side, the way his scent grew stronger as he became more aroused.  "I could do this all night," he whispered.   "You feel *good*, t'hy'la..."

 A small, almost plaintive sound made him chuckle, softly.  "No, I'm not feeling that cruel.  But I *am* going to take my time, tonight.  So you'll just have to be patient, Spock.  I promise, this will be worth the wait..."  As he spoke he oiled his hands again, and began to work his way down those long, lean legs. Now he kept his touch firm, trying to draw the remaining tension away, to help his mate relax.  When at last he finished, stroking the last of the oil onto the other's feet, he could tell it had worked.  The slender form lay utterly relaxed, limp and boneless as a cat on a hot sunny window-ledge.  Jim almost hated to disturb him, but...

 "Spock -- if you roll over, I'll do your other side."

 It was a few moments before the Vulcan could find the energy to do as Jim had requested.  Finally he sighed, very softly, and rolled onto his back.  The black eyes stayed closed; the lean face was open, unguarded.  His hair was mussed from the pillow, and Jim indulged himself by stroking at the soft black silk, smoothing it into place once more.  He scooped up more coconut oil, and began at Spock's neck again, working the rich warm oil into his mate's often-dry skin, savouring the feel of the beloved flesh beneath his fingers.

 By the time he was done, his mate was half asleep.  Jim smiled; this was exactly what he'd hoped to achieve.  He got up, and quietly padded across the room, to retrieve a black cloth bag he'd left on his desk earlier.  He set it down beside the bed, and sat down again.  Leaning over, he planted soft kisses on the Vulcan's face and neck.  His reward was a drowsy smile, and the sight of Spock stretching luxuriously, as if he were a cat instead of a Vulcan.

 "T'hy'la," Jim murmured, "there's something I'd like to do for you, tonight."

 After some moments, Spock gathered enough energy to ask, sleepily, "What is that, Jim?"

 Jim licked at first one green-bronze nipple, and then the other, enjoying the quivers of delight this sent rippling through them both.  "Do you remember the time you used our Bond to fire off every single nerve at once, and then just kept me there on the edge?  Remember how it was for me?  I want to do that for you, Spock."  He smiled, as he watched his mate's languid response to his touch.

 He spoke again.  "You always have to hold back, love.  You're always worried about getting carried away and hurting me.  Well, I know a way to give you what you gave to me, pure pleasure -- and you won't have to hold back, or worry, or do *anything*, except lie there and enjoy every single moment of it."  He bent down again, to run his tongue down the lean furred chest, finishing with a nip at the edge of Spock's navel.  His mate gasped; the slender hips lifted toward him for a moment.   A soft yearning sound escaped Spock's fraying control.

 Jim backed off for a moment.  When Spock had caught his breath, he opened his eyes and regarded his mate, hungrily.  "What... are you proposing, Jim?" he asked, his voice rough with the desire that Jim had kindled in him.  So easy, it was, for this one to arouse him...

 Jim reached for one long-fingered hand, kissed it from wrist to fingertips.  He kept his touch light now, to give pleasure, rather than to tease any more.   "It's simple, Spock.  If you're willing, if you don't mind, I'd like to restrain you.  I have a treat for us both, and I think this would be the safest way to enjoy it..."

 The black eyes were bright now, with curiousity and desire. "What... treat, t'hy'la?"  The Bond between them sang with Spock's affection, and his trust of his mate.

 Jim pulled a sealed container out of the black cloth bag; it was transparent, and appeared to contain a small cloth toy, shaped like a mouse, such as the ship's cat was wont to play with.  Slanted black eyebrows shot upwards.  "A... cat toy, Jim?  I do not understand..."

 Jim grinned.  "Well, it isn't really a cat toy -- I just couldn't resist the joke.  It's a catnip mousie for Vulcans, Spock -- it's full of sandalwood shavings, instead of catnip.  I had it made up on shore-leave and kept it in stasis, so it would be fresh."

 Understanding dawned, on the lean face of his mate.  "I... see.  That is why it is sealed, then?"  S'tha'achya, as Vulcans called sandalwood, was a potent stimulant to the Vulcan nervous system.  Its effects were reported to be irresistible, though Spock had never experienced it for himself.  He had not dared. He was so much stronger than Jim that he'd feared what might result.

 Jim kissed him again, nostrils flaring as he drank in the scent of his lover, his mate.  "Yes.  That's why.  I won't force you, ever.  I think you'd enjoy what I have in mind -- but it has to be your own free choice, t'hy'la."   Mentally, Jim crossed his fingers.  He'd been wanting to try this ever since he'd learned of sandalwood's effects.  It was highly prized on Vulcan, a rare and expensive import, strictly limited in its use.  It was definitely not spoken of, to outsiders.

 Spock had refused, very gently, to permit it.  Bad enough that when the flames of that first pon farr had finally released him, Jim had been bruised, bleeding, semiconscious at best.  He had not been able to stop the tremors that shook him, as he'd waited for McCoy to come.  It had been days before he'd finally believed that Jim didn't care, didn't hold any of it against him.  He never wanted to hurt this man again.  Not ever, not even a little.  He had sworn it.

 But this, now -- he had not thought of this.  Endlessly inventive, this human of his.  Fascinating...  Spock lay quietly, thinking, quite naked, calm and relaxed.  From Jim he had learned this ease, this comfort in his own skin.  His eyes were half closed; he drifted.

 Jim could feel it through their Bond.  He sat quietly, waiting, content.

 He didn't have to wait long.  Spock sat up partway, leaning on one elbow, eyes bright with that insatiable Vulcan curiousity of his.  "Show me, Jim -- what would you use?"

 The human dumped the contents of his bag upon the bed.  The small sealed container was surrounded now, by a bundle of soft black restraints.  Spock picked them up and examined them.  They were made of woven black synthetic of some kind, soft but tremendously strong.  Each was lined with a thick fleece-like material; there were no rough edges anywhere; all the metal was smoothly polished.  Great care had obviously gone into their manufacture.

 Jim smiled again, watching him.  He'd ordered these from a shop on Rigel VII, that specialized in such things.  They hadn't been cheap, but he was more concerned with comfort and safety, than any cost.  Spock so rarely accepted anything from him; he wanted to give his mate a very special experience, one he'd never had before.  He met the smiling black eyes, and said, "They're all synthetic; there's no leather or fur in these.  And I checked the specs on our bed frame -- it *is* strong enough, so I didn't have to get it reinforced.  These are guaranteed strong enough, even for a Vulcan.  The woman who made them's been doing this for 20 years; she knows her craft..."  He'd have to take Spock there on shore leave some time -- he had a feeling that the Vulcan would enjoy meeting the small fierce proprietor of Aunt Ruth's Toy Shop...

 Spock's lips quirked upwards.  "One finds oneself curious, as to how you located this person -- but in fact, these do seem adequate to the specified task."   The black eyes twinkled merrily at him; even here in private, Spock rarely allowed such feeling to show.  "I am... intrigued, I must admit.  It is obvious that you have put much thought into this, Jim."  He continued to examine the restraints for a moment; then he nodded, and set them down.

 "Very well," he said, his voice soft, but clear.  "I confess to a certain curiousity, myself.  I have never had an opportunity to experience s'tha'achya first hand."  He paused, gazing into the expressive hazel eyes of his mate.  "This will make you happy, t'hy'la?"

 "To do this for you?  Yes, Spock -- this will make me *very* happy -- and you as well, I think."

 The Vulcan nodded again, his mind made up.  "Then I agree. What must I do?"

 And so it was, after a quick trip to the fresher, that Spock laid back down and permitted himself to be gently but very firmly restrained.  He let himself relax completely, as Jim moved around checking the fastenings, tightening and adjusting them until he was satisfied they were nice and snug.

 "Try it now, Spock.  Pull as hard as you can; let me know, if anything slips or binds, ok?"

 Soon enough they were ready.  Spock was warm and comfortable, but he couldn't move any part of his body, except his head and his hips.  His arms and legs were securely held, and a wide soft strap held his shoulders down, while still permitting Jim access to those small bronze nipples that he loved to tease.  Looking down, the human had to smile -- the Vulcan's body was betraying his growing excitement.  His cock stood proudly upright, his balls crawled gently in their silk-furred sac.

 "Ready, love?"

 Again a smile, on that lean face, just for him.  "I am quite ready, Jim -- as you have already noticed..."  Jim told the computer to douse the lights, leaving only the warm soft glow of the candles, and the flickering of the firepot.   His own clothing was soon discarded, and free of contraint, his body showed his eagerness, every bit as strong as his mate's.

 He cracked the seal, and took the "catnip mousie" out of the box.   Squeezing it a couple of times released the sharply spicy tang of the sandalwood inside.  On the bed, Spock's nostrils flared, as he caught the scent.  A faint green flush washed over him; his breathing grew more rapid, slightly ragged.  Jim leaned down and stroked the soft cloth toy from one shoulder to the other.  Spock's nostrils flared again; he breathed in deeply, and the flush grew more pronounced.

 "Ahh..." he murmured, as Jim drew the toy along the side of his face.   A faint sheen of sweat sprang out on the olive skin; his cock twitched, fully erect now and crowned with a single glistening drop of fluid.  Jim bent to give his mate a kiss, and was delighted by Spock's eager, passionate response.  Through their Bond he could feel the Vulcan's growing excitement, his hunger and arousal, and he smiled broadly, enjoying the feeling as his own body and mind responded eagerly to his mate's.

 He licked his way down, toward the straining green-tinged shaft; delicately he used just the tip of his tongue to lap up the precious droplet.  Spock trembled, and fresh fluid welled up, began to drip onto the flat furred plane of his belly.

 Jim drew the toy in circles and patterns over his lover's warm skin; the scent of the sandalwood grew even stronger, mixed now with the copper and musk of the Vulcan's own arousal.  It was a heady mixture; now the human found himself sweating, breathing rapidly, beginning to tremble just the tiniest bit...

 "Ji-immm..."  His name was a soft moan on his bondmate's lips. Relenting, Jim bent to take the hard hot flesh in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the twin-ridged tip, delving deep into the hidden cleft between.  Spock groaned, his voice deep dark velvet, caressing Jim's ears.  The slender hips heaved and twisted in the human's strong grip.  He tensed, unbearably excited, fighting to get free, and yet afraid -- but the soft black bonds held him firmly, securely.  Safely...

 "Shhh..."  Jim's voice in his ear, whispering.  "Shh... it's all right, Spock."  Jim laved the Vulcan's quivering sex with his tongue, thrusting just the tip into the hot slippery opening.  "It's all right, love.   Let go.  Let it all go.  You can't hurt me, and you can't hurt yourself.   It's all right; just let go, and let the pleasure take you..."

 "Ahh... oh -- Jim!"  And Spock gasped, every muscle tensed anew, as a cool, oiled finger slipped between his cheeks, and worked its way inside him.  The scent of the sandalwood lay thickly in the air.  It mixed with the salt-sharp scent of Jim's arousal, the copper and musk sweetness of his own.  He was burning, lost -- his loins on fire, his balls drawn up tight. His cock throbbed; he ached with the depths of his need.  And yet he knew Jim, knew himself; his awareness was undiminished. This was nothing like the blind dumb madness of pon farr.

 He had never, in all of his life, experienced such complete arousal, such intensity of feeling, been so aware of every pulse and throb -- so *alive*!

 In Jim's arms, and flesh, he had found his home, his safety, the other half of his soul; the only flesh he'd ever want or need again.  But he had always been aware of the differences between them, of the softness of human flesh, the frailty of human skin.

 But now -- ah!  His body thrashed under the touch of his mate; he was helpless, all his Vulcan controls burned to ash and gone -- and it didn't matter!  He was *safe*...

 Another cool, oiled finger joined the first.  Caressing, stroking, stretching him inside; finding and stroking that small hard place, the source of so much pleasure to them both.  His cock was so hard it was painful, but this pain was itself only another kind of pleasure.  Jim's mouth, now, devouring him; licking, sucking, the tiniest scrape of sharp white teeth on sensitive Vulcan flesh...  Spock moaned, and moaned again, the sound somehow helping to release some of this unbearable tension he felt building inside him.  He thrust his hips up, and Jim took him deep, deep, in the coolness of his mouth.  Clever human fingers teased and stroked below, while the other hand reached up to caress and pinch his aching, rock-hard nipples; to twist and tug at the fur on his chest...

 Jim sucked, and twirled his tongue around the Vulcan's burning flesh...  Once, twice, thrice, he took him in as deep as he could -- and swallowed, the muscles of his throat squeezing, pulling...  Spock felt that pull from his toes to his straining, trembling, immobilized fingertips.  And finally he felt it wash over him, wave after wave of tightness, followed by glorious spasms of release.  His body heaved and thrashed, straining against the silken strength that bound him.  That very immobility seemd to treble his response, till the strength of his reaction threatened to wash his mind away.  Blackness flickered at the edges of his thoughts -- and then, he felt it. Felt the fingers leave his flesh, felt his lover push inside, the cool hard flesh straining, his mate as hungry and as eager as he was himself.  He cried out, heard Jim's voice cry out in answer -- and a last explosion of pleasure shook them both. Violent, irresistible, absolutely unstoppable...  Their minds flowed together and their seed poured outward; Spock's burning hot between their bellies, Jim's coolness flooding deep within him -- and now they were One.  One flying, burning mass of need and love and light, they soared, together.  Fell, trembling, all tangled up, jim-and-spock.  One flesh.  One mind.  One heart...

 When at last, they knew themselves again, no trace of fear or failure touched them, either one.  This was right.  This was as it should be.  So deep a Joining could never be sustained, but there was no need.  Both could feel it still, within them and around.

 Jim stirred, finally, and felt himself slip free.  He leaned down to claim Spock's mouth, to be claimed in turn by his mate. And he smiled, as he realized what that vibration was that he could hear, between them.  He laughed, and Spock's eyebrow lifted up, curious, but not at all offended.

 <<i love you!  that's a purr, by god, or i'm a denebian slime devil.   i never knew that vulcans purred, spock...>>   Spock made no answer, but the black eyes were bright with merriment. Jim's smile grew even wider, as he reached to unsnap the bonds. Relief flooded both of them, as each saw that the other was unhurt.  There were green pressure marks on Spock's skin -- but they were already fading, under the skilled fingers of his mate.

 The sandalwood mousie lay discarded in a corner.  Jim noted it, and let it be.   He would put it away later.  Right now, wild horses couldn't drag him from this bed.  "Mmm," he purred. "Spock -- my mate, my One -- I *loved* it, pleasing you like that."

 Spock reached up, languidly running his fingers through the tangled golden silk of his bondmate's hair.  "T'hy'la," he murmured, still making that faint purring rumble, deep inside his chest.  "I thank thee, for thy gift, Jim."   He pulled his human closer, so that they could share a kiss.  "I am at peace, t'hy'la -- as I have never been before."  He wrapped the cool, beloved form in his own warm arms, and sighed happily, as Jim's eyes closed and he snuggled in close.

 One last thing remained to be said.  Spock drew breath to speak, unaware...   And deep voice and tenor spoke then as one, one thought in both their minds.   "Happy anniversary, love."

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