Jim shivered in delight, silently thanking whatever deity watched over him.
Certainly there had to be one in the vast distance of eternity since he couldn’t think of any other explanation to account for him sprawled across his bunk so early on Christmas Eve. The reason for such thankfulness being a hot, ready, willing Vulcan First Officer feasting ravenously on his chocolate- liquor covered erection with a rough and unbelievably hot tongue.
And to think, the evening had started out so tame. Jim had invited Spock to his festively decorated quarters, wanting to exchange gifts but not wanting to impose on his friend’s privacy by suggesting Spock’s quarters, even though they were no doubt better kept than his own. Besides, Jim was looking forward to sharing the glittering lights and shiny ornaments of his small, faux tree and the reams of garland and tinsel strung around the rooms. Who better to share it with than his best friend?
Knew he made the right call when Spock entered his quarters with a brightly wrapped little box, eyes wide and mouth quirked in amusement. Jim was sure that it was one thing to see the experience as an outsider and quite another to actively participate, even in such a small way as gift-giving. The Captain was happy not to disappoint.
The evening progressed pretty normally after that. Spock lounged on the tiny couch Jim had in the front area with a cup of tea and Jim sprawled in the smallish recliner with some coffee, chattering contentedly about the ship and the upcoming mission to the planet Elenga IV, soaking up each other’s presence, enjoying the calm normality of the evening. Instead of moving on to a few games of chess like they usually did after finishing their first cup of coffee or tea, Jim gleefully scampered to the closet in his sleeping area and pulled out the gift he had commissioned some months ago for just this occasion.
It was a beautiful, old style, Vulcan lyre. Carved out of sturdy oak and a very minimalist frame without the boxy center, it was a smooth, elegant work of art. Perfect for Spock, in Jim’s opinion. At least, that had been the hope. It looked more like a Terran harp, but with the mechanics and configurations of the lyre.
It was time to give it to Spock though and Jim suffered a sudden case of nerves, but handed it over anyway. This was Spock, who he knew would appreciate the effort Jim was making. So, he just did what he always did; gathered up his courage and traded the shiny present in his hand with the one Spock had brought with him.
When it came down to it, he didn’t have any need to be worried. Spock was extremely pleased with the gift, even plucking out a few notes and blatantly relishing in the sound of the smooth, wandering melody while Jim unwrapped the present Spock had unexpectedly produced for him.
It turned out to be a stout, dark red jug with a creamy, dark liquid sloshing around inside. When he asked, Spock had simply quirked an eyebrow, wandered over to the shelf that Jim kept his drinking tumblers on and sashayed back to the little seating area. The pre-Reform name for the drink, he was then informed, was unpronounceable for Humans, but loosely translated into “Cream Delight” and was the traditional drink given on the darkest night of the year between family and bondmates. While not something that Vulcans celebrated as a holiday precisely, the occasion was always marked it such a way. That was before Surak and the idea that intoxication was detrimental to the Discipline of Logic.
Spock then took the bottle from his hands and served them both, pouring barely more than a sip of the thick and creamy substance into each glass. With a silent toast to each other, Jim downed his in a quick mouthful, not expecting the drink to be so smooth that it felt almost like satin sliding down his throat.
What really shocked him was the buzz that tingled through his body only a few moments later. Usually, it took three fingers of Bones’ best brandy to settle in his blood, but this Vulcan liquor was much more potent. Jim was more than ready for more, so he held his tumbler out for another splash.
Then they went back to talking, this time about music, taking infinitesimal sips of the very sweet alcohol and Jim found himself basking in the happiness he always found while being in Spock’s presence. It was soothing and made him feel complete in a way he couldn’t really put to words, especially not buzzing from the booze.
He finally oozed over to the couch Spock was relaxing on after half an hour, wanting to be closer to better hear the quiet and beautiful music being absentmindedly plucked, and noticed his upstanding Vulcan officer was quite tipsy as well. It wasn’t obvious, but the signs were all there: the slightest greening of his cheeks, his deep brown eyes glazed, and fingers still picking away at the lyre strings were more lax than usual. Seeing his friend so relaxed was a rare occurrence and made him chuckle. But for the life of him that really didn’t explain what he did next, except that maybe he should have been paying closer attention to his subconscious if this was what he was compelled to do.
Grinning, he set his drink down, gently grasped Spock’s face between his hands and kissed him hard on the mouth.
In the short moment that Jim had Spock’s lips against his own, he was amazed that such a stern mouth could actually be so soft and taste so warm. The next moment had Jim’s world tilting fast and he thought that the Vulcan had pushed him away, but Spock simply moved back enough to get a good grip on Jim and haul him over a bony shoulder, taking the four steps required to reach the bed and dump him onto it.
Spock followed him down, covering him completely and proceeded to ravage his mouth. In moments they had wrestled their clothes off, rubbing against each other, stirring up a lustful and raging inferno that Jim hadn’t even known he harbored for his First Officer. Right now though, he wanted whatever Spock was willing to give.
And that brought him back to the present. Spock sucking him down and fingers starting to press into Jim’s body, hungry Human moans and sub-vocal Vulcan growls. Skin glowing in the Christmas lights, the different colors twinkling around the space, gave the room a surreal, almost ethereal, feel and Jim couldn’t seem to hold on to any individual sensation. It all seemed to blur together into an experience of soft skin, hot breath, hard planes and a fullness far surpassing its parts.
As Spock pulled his slender fingers away finally, Jim lay in a panting mess of arousal, whining high in his throat at feeling empty. It didn’t last long. Spock started pressing his hard shaft into him, meeting no resistance from Jim’s primed, eager body. With a broken little moan of satisfaction, Spock slid home and immediately pulled back out, until the flared underside of his cock’s first ridge lodged against the inside of Jim’s hole, then quickly slammed home again. The pace built from there, passionate and punishing, wringing shouts of pleasure from Jim, bowing his back with each thrust when the shaft of Spock’s erection slid fully against his prostate. Ecstasy spiraling out of control had him gripping his new lover’s forearms tight, trying to find some sort of anchor so that he wasn’t overwhelmed.
Finally the pleasure exploded, cum painting his clenching belly. Spock growled low in his chest and buried his cock as deep as it could go, rolling his hips over and over as Jim saw stars, crying out at the pinnacle of his orgasm and feeling surrounded by Spock, who had collapsed onto him, pliant and sated.
They shifted slightly, twisting to their sides and curling around each other, too tired and content to bother with cleaning up. Jim did find enough energy to lean over and give Spock a chaste kiss, hoping it conveyed the thanks and adoration that he couldn’t find the words for at the moment.
But that was all right. Finding the right words to express his new found desire for his First and best friend was something that could wait for just a little while longer. Maybe, just maybe, Jim’s real Christmas gift would come in the morning; that Spock would agree to see just how far this new aspect of their relationship could go.
It was a gift he would be more than honored to receive.