FICLET OF SILLINESS: Spock Prime/Gaila edition
Oh dear, the theme of this week's battle post at st_respect is bachelor parties and weddings. Due to an excess of self-discipline I missed participating in my team's actual wedding topic, but I had to write this ficlet as a coda, because they (a) served chocolate cake at the reception, and (b) set it up for me by having Ambassador Spock and Gaila making out in the corner.
There's not enough self-discipline in the world to make me resist that.
*****
NYOTA + SPOCK'S WEDDING RECEPTION: SUPPLY CLOSET/INTOXICATED VULCAN EDITION
Nyota and Spock's wedding goes fantastically well, although a small detail escapes their careful planning: red velvet wedding cake contains chocolate. The reception is, as a result, even more festive than expected...
Gaila giggles as Ambassador Spock touches the keypad to close the supply closet door behind them.
"I've always wondered why these closets lock from the inside," she purrs, draping her arms around his shoulders and nibbling gently on the tip of his ear.
He responds with a soft growl. Strong hands grip her waist and he lifts her effortlessly, depositing her on the small counter. "Mmm," she says, hooking one leg around him to pull him closer, her hands working their way inside the lapels of his formal Vulcan robes. Even through all the cloth he's deliciously hot. "I had no idea chocolate made Vulcans so much fun."
"I do seem to be intoxicated," he mumurs, as he moves his mouth down her neck, alternately kissing and licking. He pauses at the crook of her shoulder and breathes deeply. "You smell like desert flowers."
"I do," she agrees, "Orions always smell like the thing you like best." Her fingers tug at the fastenings of his robe. "Why are these so complicated?" she huffs. "How do you guys have spur-of-the-moment sex with all these layers in the way?"
He lifts his head from her shoulder and blinks at her. He looks so sweet with his neat gray hair and confused expression, Gaila stops what she's doing to give him a long, lingering kiss. He still tastes faintly of chocolate. When she breaks the kiss it takes him the count of five to open his eyes. "I am sorry," he says, muzzily, "You were saying something about spur-of-the-moment--"
"Sex. That's why we're here, right?" She smiles at him, petting the back of his neck briefly, then returning to his robes. She pulls a cord and one layer comes undone. "Finally! Only sixteen more to go."
She's seen Vulcans move fast before, but even Gaila's surprised by how quickly he gets the rest of the layers unfastened. Years of practice, she thinks fleetingly, although probably not with an Orion in a supply closet. Then he's kissing her again, growling louder now, his hands pushing her knees apart. God Nyota, you really know how to throw a wedding, she thinks, squirming delightedly under the sudden barrage of hot Vulcan hotness.
Her skirt is already nicely bunched around her hips and she's closed her eyes in anticipation when he stops abruptly, his hands motionless on her thighs. Surprised, Gaila opens her eyes to find him staring, as if transfixed, at her exposed legs. She looks down. "Oh!" she says. "It's a traditional Terran undergarment. It's called a garter belt. I like it better than Starfleet-issue uni-tights."
He's still staring, although no longer motionless. His fingers slowly trace around the tops of her black stockings, tickling her, making her giggle. Then he slips the tips of his fingers under the black elastic bands that run up the fronts of her thighs, following them to the wide black belt that hugs her hips, and back down again. Gaila smiles. The black does look nice against her green skin. She can understand why he was surprised, though; it's unusual to find underwear on an Orion. He probably didn't know what to make of it.
"I almost wore panties, too," she coos, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving her lips close to his. "But I didn't want to wear too many layers, in case I got...too...hot..."
***
When four dozen pink Terran roses are delivered to Gaila's quarters the next day, Nyota doesn't even ask. There are certain things a bride doesn't need to know, even about her own wedding...
*****
FOOTNOTE: Ship wars writing has led me to violate my own head-canon a few times, which I don't normally do. I do it here and yet strangely, I'm not sorry. :)
FOOTNOTE2: ETA-if you're a new visitor and want to read Spock Prime/Gaila that's not ridiculous intoxication-fic this page has links.
There's not enough self-discipline in the world to make me resist that.
*****
NYOTA + SPOCK'S WEDDING RECEPTION: SUPPLY CLOSET/INTOXICATED VULCAN EDITION
Nyota and Spock's wedding goes fantastically well, although a small detail escapes their careful planning: red velvet wedding cake contains chocolate. The reception is, as a result, even more festive than expected...
Gaila giggles as Ambassador Spock touches the keypad to close the supply closet door behind them.
"I've always wondered why these closets lock from the inside," she purrs, draping her arms around his shoulders and nibbling gently on the tip of his ear.
He responds with a soft growl. Strong hands grip her waist and he lifts her effortlessly, depositing her on the small counter. "Mmm," she says, hooking one leg around him to pull him closer, her hands working their way inside the lapels of his formal Vulcan robes. Even through all the cloth he's deliciously hot. "I had no idea chocolate made Vulcans so much fun."
"I do seem to be intoxicated," he mumurs, as he moves his mouth down her neck, alternately kissing and licking. He pauses at the crook of her shoulder and breathes deeply. "You smell like desert flowers."
"I do," she agrees, "Orions always smell like the thing you like best." Her fingers tug at the fastenings of his robe. "Why are these so complicated?" she huffs. "How do you guys have spur-of-the-moment sex with all these layers in the way?"
He lifts his head from her shoulder and blinks at her. He looks so sweet with his neat gray hair and confused expression, Gaila stops what she's doing to give him a long, lingering kiss. He still tastes faintly of chocolate. When she breaks the kiss it takes him the count of five to open his eyes. "I am sorry," he says, muzzily, "You were saying something about spur-of-the-moment--"
"Sex. That's why we're here, right?" She smiles at him, petting the back of his neck briefly, then returning to his robes. She pulls a cord and one layer comes undone. "Finally! Only sixteen more to go."
She's seen Vulcans move fast before, but even Gaila's surprised by how quickly he gets the rest of the layers unfastened. Years of practice, she thinks fleetingly, although probably not with an Orion in a supply closet. Then he's kissing her again, growling louder now, his hands pushing her knees apart. God Nyota, you really know how to throw a wedding, she thinks, squirming delightedly under the sudden barrage of hot Vulcan hotness.
Her skirt is already nicely bunched around her hips and she's closed her eyes in anticipation when he stops abruptly, his hands motionless on her thighs. Surprised, Gaila opens her eyes to find him staring, as if transfixed, at her exposed legs. She looks down. "Oh!" she says. "It's a traditional Terran undergarment. It's called a garter belt. I like it better than Starfleet-issue uni-tights."
He's still staring, although no longer motionless. His fingers slowly trace around the tops of her black stockings, tickling her, making her giggle. Then he slips the tips of his fingers under the black elastic bands that run up the fronts of her thighs, following them to the wide black belt that hugs her hips, and back down again. Gaila smiles. The black does look nice against her green skin. She can understand why he was surprised, though; it's unusual to find underwear on an Orion. He probably didn't know what to make of it.
"I almost wore panties, too," she coos, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving her lips close to his. "But I didn't want to wear too many layers, in case I got...too...hot..."
***
When four dozen pink Terran roses are delivered to Gaila's quarters the next day, Nyota doesn't even ask. There are certain things a bride doesn't need to know, even about her own wedding...
*****
FOOTNOTE: Ship wars writing has led me to violate my own head-canon a few times, which I don't normally do. I do it here and yet strangely, I'm not sorry. :)
FOOTNOTE2: ETA-if you're a new visitor and want to read Spock Prime/Gaila that's not ridiculous intoxication-fic this page has links.