Work Text:
Jim Reached into the Box
by T'Aaneli and Islaofhope
t_aaneli@hotmail.com and islaofhope@aol.com
Jim reached into the box, carefully sorting through the tangle of leaves and berries. Ouch. He quickly withdrew his hands. Following a thorough inspection of the tiny puncture wounds on the tips of his fingers, he realized that the holly was to blame. That's it. Never again would he order organically grown Terran holly. Next Christmas, it was the gentler, improved version -- synthetically generated in the laboratories of Noel.
Jim reached back into the box. As he pulled out a cluster of green leaves, his lips curved upwards. Mistletoe. In perfect condition. Well worth the extra shipping costs. Now, where to hang it? He started whistling a tune as he dug through his desk drawers, searching for those universal fasteners he knew had to be somewhere.
* * * * * * * * * *
Damn it. Where was he? He was never late for anything. So why tonight?
Jim poured himself a second glass of wine. He lifted the glass, held it up to the dimmed lights, and admired the multiple shades of red. A proper Pinot Noir from Earth. It just couldn't be duplicated anywhere in known Federation territory. He took another sip, the richness warming his tongue.
He heard the doors open and slide shut. He resisted the temptation to look up. Glass in hand, he swirled the wine, and in his lowest, deepest, bedroom voice greeted his guest. "Hey, good looking."
Silence. Silence? Jim looked up and felt a wave of heat wash over him. A mere metre away, his heart's desire stood standing, looking so sexy and tempting that it took every element of control on his part not to discard his wine and demand his lover's immediate presence in his arms.
But no. He would savour the moment. He would savour the lean figure before him; the drape of the black velvet tunic, the hug of the trousers, the gleam of the silk hair, the elegant arch of the brow.
Damn it. He couldn't resist.
"Spock. Look up."
As Spock obeyed his commanding officer, Jim rose from the chair. In one smooth movement, he crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his first officer's waist.
"Are you familiar with the old Earth myth that anybody who finds themselves under mistletoe is free game for a kiss?" Jim chuckled as he watched Spock's eyes shift from the cluster of green dangling above his head to meet his own eyes.
"You, my love, are standing under the mistletoe. Which means that you ... owe me ... a ... kiss." Jim found it hard to finish the sentence. The darkness in Spock's eyes was consuming him. And later, he honestly couldn't swear who kissed who first.
Thank the gods there was more mistletoe around his quarters.
* * * * * * * * *
I was certainly aware that I was late. I could not recall ever being late for a meeting with my captain before.
However, the vision that greeted me when I walked into his quarters was not my captain. My captain had left the bridge precisely an hour ago and, presumably, had showered and changed. He had opened a bottle of the Terran wine from the case that I had brought back from my last science conference. I remembered his delight when I had presented it to him.
The vision. My beloved.
He wore pale green silk. It brought out the green lights in his ever-changing eyes. It made his fair hair even more golden. A trick of refracted light made my breath catch in my throat as I beheld him.
The lights were low. For a moment, the first officer in me wondered whether I should report the malfunction to the maintenance department.
However, when I recognized the flicker of candlelight, I understood that the dim lights were purposeful. Yes, I had discovered long ago that he was even more beautiful and golden in candlelight. I was gratified that he was finally willing to concede to the logic of lighting our private time together with candlelight.
My senses were on overload from the sight of him. If it were not for the sudden vertigo that shot through me, I would have teased him about the dangers of open flame.
He had spoken to me when I walked in; greeted me with tender affection. However, the fragrance of the sandalwood and cinnamon candles, the sight of his golden head, and the faint scent of the mistletoe which hung over the archway between his work area and sleeping area - all had combined to strike me dumb.
He spoke again, instructing me to look up. I did not need to look; I knew where the mistletoe was. Its presence had registered with me as soon as I walked through the door. In truth, I believe that I knew of the mistletoe as soon as it was brought aboard the _Enterprise_. There was a reason that I had resisted attending the winter holiday parties.
For a Vulcan, mistletoe is an aphrodisiac.
However, I could deny him nothing. I had attended those parties - at what cost to myself, he would never know. I now obeyed his request that I look up. He flew across the room and materialized in my arms.
In my arms.
"You owe me a kiss." His voice and the low chuckle that accompanied it was the sweetest music that I had ever heard.
Yes, I did owe him far more than just a kiss, and I would give it all to him this night. However, a kiss was a more than acceptable start.
He had slipped his arms around my waist. My hands rested on his shoulders, but I could not resist cupping his chin in my hand. He was as eager as I. Our mouths came together.
Fire.
I tangled my fingers in the silk of his hair and consumed his mouth. I would consume his mouth forever.
I have said that mistletoe is an aphrodisiac; sandalwood is as well. However, the only aphrodisiac that I required was the sight of him, the smell of him, and now, the taste of him.
I am not a wine connoisseur, but the wine tasted as fine as I had imagined that it would when I purchased it for him. Later, I would savor a single glass while I watched him across the table. Now, I tasted it on his lips and his tongue.
A moan. Had the sound come from me or from him? No matter. It was clear to both of us what we wanted. I dropped my hands from his hair to his shoulders, down his chest. It was well that he had chosen to wear this tunic. Otherwise, in my impatience to possess more of his naked flesh, I would have torn the cloth from his body. As it was, his tunic fell away easily.
His hands were sliding under my tunic, but he did not attempt to remove my black velvet. I knew from past experience that he found the sight of me in black far too stimulating to hurry.
Another moan. The sound that next came from him was nearly a whimper. My fingers were sliding over his chest, stroking the tender nubs of his nipples. The weakness in my knees had passed; perhaps, it had been transmitted to him. He offered no resistance when I turned him slightly to back him up to the mesh screen that separated the work area where we stood and the sleeping area that was my planned destination.
However, we had all night. I had seen to that before I came to him, ensuring that ship's business would not intrude on our private celebration of the Terran winter solstice.
He was pliant in my arms; I extricated his hands from my waist and pulled them over his head. He gasped against my mouth when the handcuffs clicked into place.
My mouth centimeters from his, I spoke to him for the first time since I had walked in the door.
"You are beautiful. And, you are mine."
-- finis--