GENRE: Star Trek, fan-ficlet, Spock/Uhura
SUMMARY: Spock makes a move.
est. reading time: 15 – 20 minutes
Cadet Nyota Uhura.
She is the only one whose laughter doesn’t mock him.
Even now, she sits at her corner of his office, sipping hot spiced cider, shaking her head, smile so wide it crinkles her eyes, lifts her cheeks, and reveals even white teeth. It was something he had said, a play on words that she actually understood. She had not frowned in confusion, but he had naturally, elicited the intended response.
Her smile does something to him, inside. There’s a pleasant lurch in his side, a physical response he cannot categorize.
It would be unwise to think too hard on it, to consider what that lurch really is. The consequences would be heavy, irrevocably damaging careers. So, he has worked very hard at ignoring it.
He has been having many of these ‘responses’ and they grow more frequent. If he weren’t so in denial, so deeply afraid of the obvious, it would be clear why.
…Why, that smile haunts his sleep, his meditative practices, even his work. Why his fingers twitch when she stands near, an illogical urge to touch her seizing upon him.
Objectively, he knows she is attractive, but not so uncommon. But still he feels… He feels she is the most singular beauty he has ever laid eyes upon. Every word that leaves her lips only solidifies this firm belief in his heart.
It was a small thing she did that took this… This thing over the line.
“Lieutenant Commander, Cadet Deeko’s oration is shrill, but I believe that has more to do with the shape of her mandibles than with her knowledge.”
She removed the earpiece from her own ear and walked to his desk in two elegant strides. She reached out her hand (fingernails painted gold, this week). Instead of placing it on his desk as she usually would, she slid it across the surface to his hand.
His hand, which was palm-down on his desk, in turn reached out two fingers to curve around the small device…and just barely touched the side of Cadet Uhura’s thumb.
A clipped gasp escaped his lips before he could reign it in.
Quickly, frowning, …unable to meet her eyes, he said “Thank you, Cadet” and placed it in his own ear.
He hoped she had not heard it. But that glimpse she’d unwittingly provided was akin to a mental kiss. He had gotten a small peek at the shape and space of her mind. A comfortably organized place, sharp and warm and tentatively reaching as much for him as he would like to, for her.
He was starving and she had provided a few decadent morsels. This was a temptation he had not been prepared for. It was easier to believe this thing was all one-sided… That mutual compatibility would also be an issue. He had fooled himself into believing there would be other obstacles aside from the obvious and that had kept him from acting.
But now, everything about her just felt right. Perfect for him. She was the piece he needed to be complete.
His hands clenched on his desk and he closed his eyes against the wave of emotion now creeping upon him. Shameful thoughts in the back of his mind. He tried to focus on Cadet Deeko’s Klingon currently playing in his ears, but all he could hear was that crushing rush of need. Old emotions, primal, base; the Vulcan need to claim, to jealously take, possess.
He swallowed before he answered, making sure his voice was even.
“Are you okay?” She said, her wide gentle eyes concerned.
“You seem tense.”
“-I am distracted.” He said, his eyes finally flitting up to meet her own.
“I, -I believe it would be best to continue this work at another time. I have other matters I must attend to.” he said, blinking rapidly as he removed the earpiece.
She’d known him for a year, worked with him for eight months. In all this time, she’d never seen him so flustered. Never less than his impeccable Vulcan self.
“Spock, are you sick? Should I get someone?” and she did the last thing he wanted her to do, walked around his desk, half-kneeled so she was eye-level, close enough that he could smell her underneath her light perfume.
Humans smelled of water, all the time, especially human females. All are different. All precious, rare, intoxicating in their way. But none had the effect, Cadet Uhura was having on him now.
Her scent made him thirst for her.
Her lips were parted slightly. Her brow furrowed in concern. All he could see was the glistening wetness between her lips. All he could feel was the pounding in his side; in his head pushing him to take her….
There was a small click in his brain before he did just that.
She hadn’t the time to realize what he was doing before he was doing it. Long fingers threaded around the base of her skull, so she couldn’t get away. Hot lips pressed against her own. His tongue probing her mouth, gently, but thoroughly.
If she weren’t experiencing it, she never would have believed this were possible.
Often she had thought about him, admired and looked up to him. She had considered him the one person in Starfleet who understood her more than any of the others. But he was also her superior officer. And worse, one she currently assisted. This was completely unethical. She worked for him.
But God, this felt good.
He wasn’t exactly well-liked. Tough and extremely strict, the other cadets thought him cold and impossible to please. But she found his bluntness, his propensity for perfection above all else, refreshing. A relief.
For once, there was a male who didn’t relate to her any differently because she was an attractive female. There were no kiddie gloves. He treated her like the capable person she was, pushing her to her fullest potential and beyond.
And that, of course, was a blessing and a curse, for she found herself growing more and more fond of him. Her heart would grow warm at the thought of him. Her face involuntarily breaking into an full smile when her mind drifted to him.
…Drifted to Spock.
And now he was kissing her.
He pulled her closer, his other hand slipping around waist. This was heavenly. Such a relief after fighting this for so long. And her responses, the fleeting glimpses of her mind… all open to him, willing this to continue, only served to encourage him.
He broke the kiss to watch her face, watch her while his hand trailed down her hip to the hem of her skirt, fingers skimming beneath, seeking her cool wet flesh.
She arched her pelvis and widened her legs, giving him easier access. And there, his precision, extended to this task, as well. Forefinger lazily drawing a line between her legs, easily finding her clitoris.
His pace was maddening. Patient, he was completely still, but for his eyes which were dancing; greedily devouring the sight of her in this blissfully aroused state.
…One he was causing.
She was nearing her peak, walls aching in the best way, her clitoris throbbing under his gentle assault.
It was then that he pulled away. Shifting both hands to her hips, his fingers pushed her skirt all the way up, hooked her plain white panties and pulled them down.
This done, he inhaled deeply and dragged her close, so she straddled his lap, his face right where he needed to be.
He planted a chaste kiss on her upper thigh and looked up at her.
She nodded eagerly and his mouth was on her, hot and intent. Sucking the tender bud inbetween his lips, while the tip of his tongue rhythmically worried at it.
A high choked sound escaped her lips and she tried to arch against him, but he held her firm, his hands on her hips, holding her open to him. Vulcan strength. She couldn’t neither move toward him, nor away.
It washed over her suddenly and hard. She was clenching, coming, slick wetness pulsing down her thighs and over, into Spock’s mouth. She looked down then, through the stars, catching him with his eyes closed, just drinking her in. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed.
It went on. continuing to flutter throughout her body, from chest to toe and he drew it out, not stopping until it he had milked every last drop.
She slumped over him, her hands propped against his shoulders while she caught her breath. He supported her as properly as could manage, unconsciously sucking his lips along with the evidence of what he’d just done into his mouth.
When she could stand on her own she leaned against his desk. Austere as you please, he retrieved a napkin from his top drawer and wiped his chin.
Aside from his eyes, nothing indicated what he had just done.
“Nyota…I hope, I am not being presumptuous, but it is late. My recliner is modular. It can comfortably be used for resting among other things, if you so desire…” he said, his dark eyes full of mischief.
“I do not wish for these activities to cease, just now.”
“Nor do I.” she replied.
He had asked to undress her and she had happily complied. Achingly slow, he did just that, slipping off her uniform sweater, unzipping her skirt, unhooking her bra, taking the time to savor every inch of newly exposed skin, with his eyes and hands. Occasionally he planted kisses on her.
She suspected these spots were particularly erotic for Vulcans, between her shoulder blades, behind her ears, between her breasts, her fingertips.
When she was completely nude he lay her down and just looked at her, his eyes darting around as if he couldn’t decide which part of her to focus on… As if he were memorizing her slim curves, her beauty marks, the subtle changes in the shade of her skin.
That was exactly what he was doing. It was a comfort to do these things, to learn every part of her in exacting detail. He now knew the precise distance between her nipples to the millimeter. Every Vulcan is obsessive compulsive in this way. Numbers, the mathematics of things, they can’t help but know.
And once he was satisfied, he touched her with lips and knowledgeable hands, massaging nerves that made her even more ready for another round.
Her legs relaxed apart, nipples pebbling, warmth pooling in her belly, a soft moan escaping her lips.
He unsnapped his high black collar continuing all the way down his chest. He removed his uniform jacket and slipped off his black undershirt, revealing a lightly furred chest.
She reached up to run her fingers through it, but he caught her hands and devoured her mouth in a heady kiss instead. He slipped his pants down and finally, he was as nude as she was and very erect.
Vulcans are on average much longer than the average human male, a necessity for a species for which the females don’t have much lubrication. Despite being half-human, Spock was no exception.
He crawled in-between her legs and settled upright on his haunches. His hands reached out, fingertips delicately traced her lips, the line of her neck, her nipples, and dip of belly before he settled one hand between her legs. The other held her hip tight and arched her lower body upwards.
His fingers set to work pumping into her, curving against her g-spot, his thumb making tight circles on her clitoris.
She gasped and moaned, her hand reaching between them settling on top of his own, urging him on.
“Ah, yes… Spock. Don’t stop…”
Spock, she noted, was a quiet lover, but for his breathing which hitched and deepened when he was particularly turned on. Though, his eyes were greedier, more full of lust than any man she’d been with. Heavily lidded, glazed and black, there was no doubt he wanted her as much, if not more than she wanted him.
She was getting close, hips undulating against his busy fingers, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut and moaned deeply.
It was then that he stopped and withdrew. Just as quickly, she felt the press of him against her lips, heard the rumbling groan as he slowly pushed inside, stretching her, filling her completely, until he pressed against her womb.
He stopped then, his eyes squeezed shut and leaned over her, his weight on his elbows, his face buried against her shoulder. Taking a few breaths, he began to move, setting up a slow deliberate rhythm.
Every roll and slide of his hips was hitting her just right.
She planted her feet and began to meet him stroke for stroke.
“….yes…unh…fuck me, spock…”
His pace and depth increased, the wet-slaps of their bodies meeting, audible to human ears.
“…nyota…” he breathed.
He fisted her hair and gasped into her skin.
His free hand trailed down her body. Catching her under the knee and he pushed her leg up high, so it was hooked over his shoulder.
This new angle, hit a new spot inside her which made her eyes go wide, her lips falling open in a wide “O”.
She could hear him taking deep stuttering breaths. And when she opened her eyes, her heart swelled at the sight of him, watching her, taking in everything he was doing to her, beyond pleased.
She could feel a shadow of what he wanted to see on the back of her mind. He wanted to see every part of her mind and body and soul, watch her writhe beneath him, because of him. Take everything he gives while he makes her come.
The echoes of thought she was giving off was more than enough for this. It was exactly what he needed, the surety of complete possession.
…Laid herself bare for him, wanting him to keep taking her, fuck her however he wanted.
It fed that part of him that was driven to mate, to keep her. That part of him that would kill another who wanted her. That part of him, hidden in every Vulcan male, an intense, alien emotion. A greedy, deep abiding selfish love, dark and obsessive; jealously keeping their mates from all others.
He would mark her in this way, fuck her so she would want no one else.
He sat up and sped his movements. Now, each thrust was being met with an accompanying shout, which he reveled in.
Abruptly, her body locked. Her silken flesh pulsed around him and she let loose with a series of colorful obscenities in various alien languages as she came.
Then he followed her over the edge, filling her deep within.
After, he leaned into her neck, licking her sweat away. He held her close, their limbs entwined, minds still buzzing with the reverb of the after-glow.
It was now very late. After curfew.
It was only prudent that she stay until it was early enough to sneak out unnoticed.
Spock, could not fault her logic.