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Fic: Stay (AOS)
Title: Stay
Author: ebonbird
Characters: Nyota Uhura. Spock.
Rating: R
Warnings: Uh. You tell me?
Disclaimer: Star Trek not mine.
Summary: Sometimes, Spock doesn’t even want to know.
A/N: I’m pulling this from my notebook. I don't even know what's going on with these, really.
Her quarters were cooler, but the closer to Earth mean temperature kept Nyota’s temperature at her normal range.
They huddled under her sheet, sitting cross-legged. Nyota held her chin in her hand. “How long can it stay like that?”
Spock opened his mouth and inhaled a considering breath, then came to his senses. He linked his hands together, “Why?”
She laughed, her knees bouncing as she clapped her hands.
“It is not a toy, Nyota.”
“Of course not,” and she reached out her hands and clasped them ‘round his ears and brought his face closer to hers. “Neither are you.”
Mollified, he uncovered his lap.
“But you are the most fun I have ever had.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She kissed it.
It stayed raised.
She peppered his face with kisses. He grew even hotter beneath her touch but he was not entirely sanguine. “I will not be moved."
She bit her lips.
"I do not care to be a dependent variable in more of your experiments.”
'At this moment' hung unspoken between them.
“You like my experiments.” She kissed his cheek. “I like my experiments.”
He huffed.
She held her lower lip between her teeth and considered him for a long moment. Him in his entirety. His feet. His legs. His ears. His lips. His chest, arms, and hands. As she studied him, her nipples became sharp points and the scent of her arousal made the air between them heavy and rich until his lips and tongue let slip the question, “What do you have in mind?”
She refolded herself into a kneeling position, holding her hand above her head to keep the sheet from falling between them, her other hand on his downy thigh, brush-brush-brushing his skin as lightly as she could manage. He plucked the sheet from her hand and with a short motion, tossed it away from them.
This did not make him breathe any easier. Or her.
She cupped her other hand around his ear, and leaned close to him, and told him. For a moment, all the air remaining in his lungs rushed out, all at once, and he closed his eyes.
She chuckled.
“That is acceptable,” he managed and offered his hand.
She kissed his palm and kissed it, then licked it, smiling all the while. Her other hand on his thigh, brushing him, her eyes locked with his all the while.
His toes flexed and curled. His heels dug into his thighs in anticipation. He moaned. She gave particular attention to the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. She stopped with a smile. “Now grab yourself. Tight as you can,” her voice was at barely a whisper.
He did. Seizing himself around his wrist.
“Spock,” she said on a giggle. His eyes dropped from her face to her breasts as humor shook her. His mouth curled up at both corners. He leaned into her. She leaned into him, running her fingertips from his neck, down his chest and belly and to the meeting of his hips and thighs. “Grab yourself where you want me to grab you.”
“Metaphorically, you have already taken possession of the totality of my being.”
“Oh, Spock,” she massaged his hips and thighs, leaned into the drop of his voice.
“Will you not clarify?”
“Enough talk,” she said and took hold of his wrists, pulling his hands apart and nesting one against her face.
He took it from there.
Author: ebonbird
Characters: Nyota Uhura. Spock.
Rating: R
Warnings: Uh. You tell me?
Disclaimer: Star Trek not mine.
Summary: Sometimes, Spock doesn’t even want to know.
A/N: I’m pulling this from my notebook. I don't even know what's going on with these, really.
Her quarters were cooler, but the closer to Earth mean temperature kept Nyota’s temperature at her normal range.
They huddled under her sheet, sitting cross-legged. Nyota held her chin in her hand. “How long can it stay like that?”
Spock opened his mouth and inhaled a considering breath, then came to his senses. He linked his hands together, “Why?”
She laughed, her knees bouncing as she clapped her hands.
“It is not a toy, Nyota.”
“Of course not,” and she reached out her hands and clasped them ‘round his ears and brought his face closer to hers. “Neither are you.”
Mollified, he uncovered his lap.
“But you are the most fun I have ever had.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She kissed it.
It stayed raised.
She peppered his face with kisses. He grew even hotter beneath her touch but he was not entirely sanguine. “I will not be moved."
She bit her lips.
"I do not care to be a dependent variable in more of your experiments.”
'At this moment' hung unspoken between them.
“You like my experiments.” She kissed his cheek. “I like my experiments.”
He huffed.
She held her lower lip between her teeth and considered him for a long moment. Him in his entirety. His feet. His legs. His ears. His lips. His chest, arms, and hands. As she studied him, her nipples became sharp points and the scent of her arousal made the air between them heavy and rich until his lips and tongue let slip the question, “What do you have in mind?”
She refolded herself into a kneeling position, holding her hand above her head to keep the sheet from falling between them, her other hand on his downy thigh, brush-brush-brushing his skin as lightly as she could manage. He plucked the sheet from her hand and with a short motion, tossed it away from them.
This did not make him breathe any easier. Or her.
She cupped her other hand around his ear, and leaned close to him, and told him. For a moment, all the air remaining in his lungs rushed out, all at once, and he closed his eyes.
She chuckled.
“That is acceptable,” he managed and offered his hand.
She kissed his palm and kissed it, then licked it, smiling all the while. Her other hand on his thigh, brushing him, her eyes locked with his all the while.
His toes flexed and curled. His heels dug into his thighs in anticipation. He moaned. She gave particular attention to the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. She stopped with a smile. “Now grab yourself. Tight as you can,” her voice was at barely a whisper.
He did. Seizing himself around his wrist.
“Spock,” she said on a giggle. His eyes dropped from her face to her breasts as humor shook her. His mouth curled up at both corners. He leaned into her. She leaned into him, running her fingertips from his neck, down his chest and belly and to the meeting of his hips and thighs. “Grab yourself where you want me to grab you.”
“Metaphorically, you have already taken possession of the totality of my being.”
“Oh, Spock,” she massaged his hips and thighs, leaned into the drop of his voice.
“Will you not clarify?”
“Enough talk,” she said and took hold of his wrists, pulling his hands apart and nesting one against her face.
He took it from there.
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