Prompt Fill: Knowing Me, Knowing You 4/16awarringtonOctober 23 2009, 21:47:16 UTC
Kirk slung an arm about his friend’s shoulder. “At least…” he gestured with his free hand at McCoy’s costume, “…I won’t be blending in with a hundred other Draculas.”
“That’s an understatement, if ever there was one. And don’t knock this gear. Blending in is my style. Are you seriously going to wear that?”
“Don’t have much choice at this point, do I?” Kirk pointed out, since the ball was due to begin in under and hour.
“Your hair…” McCoy said turning his head to inspect the blond locks cascading over his shoulders.
“Extensions.” Kirk moved away from McCoy and began to attach the sword. “The guy in the store suggested either that or a wig - gave me the name of a place downtown. I figured a wig would be too hot, so I commed Janice Rand and she did them for me.”
“Well, I guess if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it properly.”
“Oh, it get’s better,” Kirk grinned, waggling his eyebrows. He pulled at his cloak. “There’s a concealed pocket here - so I’ve stowed away a few bits for when I get lucky tonight.” With that he pulled out a bottle of lube, looking very pleased with himself. “In case it’s a guy,” he needlessly explained.
McCoy shook his head. “You’re fucking something else, kid.”
Kirk took that as the highest accolade his friend could give and feeling inordinately pleased, kissed him on the cheek.
“Get off me you oversexed fuck,” McCoy said gruffly, shoving him away and making a great show of wiping his face of non-existent spittle.
Fifteen minutes later, Kirk got inkling of the kind of reaction his costume was going to provoke as he strode beside his friend across the campus to the conference centre, whistles and catcalls dogging their every step.
“Bones, if you don’t stop rolling your eyes, you’re gonna strain them,” he grinned.
The furore that surrounded Kirk’s arrival surpassed even his own expectations, but not for the reasons he’d anticipated, although compliments and lewd suggestions abounded in equal numbers from his classmates, which he happily soaked up.
“Oh my god, you’ve got the same get-up as Professor Spock,” exclaimed someone in the small crowd surrounding him. “Only his is green and purple.”
Spock - a Vulcan name, and green and purple, the color scheme of the handsome stranger’s costume. Could it be…? Kirk wondered, his heart racing. He started to look around, over the sea of heads, in the hope of seeing him.
“Yeah, where is Professor Spock?” Jones from his engineering class wondered aloud, waving his pirate hook in the air vaguely. “We should get you two together.” He then lifted his black eye-patch and joined Kirk in looking about the room. But before Jones could say any more on the matter, the sea of costumed party-goers seemed to magically part, and at the other end of the divide the Vulcan, resplendent in his figure-hugging costume, stood tall and proud, feet slightly apart.
For a second and eternity, the world narrowed down to just the two of them, as if nothing else existed. While Kirk knew he looked pretty damn hot in his costume, the Vulcan’s looked awesome on him. His mouth went dry as he felt a flush crawl up his face at the sight of the absolutely gorgeous being, his cock twitching in interest. Fuck, he thought. The last thing he needed in that outfit was a hard-on.
The awful thought brought him back and the world intruded once again. He became vaguely aware that Uhura was standing beside Professor Spock, dressed in what looked like nineteenth century clothes, staring at him incredulously.
The professor walked towards him, each step graceful and poised, clearly eyeing him up and down until they stood face to face. “I had thought my costume would be unique this evening. I see I was in error.” The voice was quiet and even, no sign of accusation or annoyance coloring it.
“Me too,” Kirk responded - it had honestly not occurred to him that the Vulcan might be in StarFleet. He trailed off into an awkward silence as dark, unfathomable eyes held his before glancing around them where the crowd appeared to be hanging onto their every word.
It was as if his action of noticing them galvanized the people around them, because all of a sudden, the group dispersed.
“That’s an understatement, if ever there was one. And don’t knock this gear. Blending in is my style. Are you seriously going to wear that?”
“Don’t have much choice at this point, do I?” Kirk pointed out, since the ball was due to begin in under and hour.
“Your hair…” McCoy said turning his head to inspect the blond locks cascading over his shoulders.
“Extensions.” Kirk moved away from McCoy and began to attach the sword. “The guy in the store suggested either that or a wig - gave me the name of a place downtown. I figured a wig would be too hot, so I commed Janice Rand and she did them for me.”
“Well, I guess if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it properly.”
“Oh, it get’s better,” Kirk grinned, waggling his eyebrows. He pulled at his cloak. “There’s a concealed pocket here - so I’ve stowed away a few bits for when I get lucky tonight.” With that he pulled out a bottle of lube, looking very pleased with himself. “In case it’s a guy,” he needlessly explained.
McCoy shook his head. “You’re fucking something else, kid.”
Kirk took that as the highest accolade his friend could give and feeling inordinately pleased, kissed him on the cheek.
“Get off me you oversexed fuck,” McCoy said gruffly, shoving him away and making a great show of wiping his face of non-existent spittle.
Fifteen minutes later, Kirk got inkling of the kind of reaction his costume was going to provoke as he strode beside his friend across the campus to the conference centre, whistles and catcalls dogging their every step.
“Bones, if you don’t stop rolling your eyes, you’re gonna strain them,” he grinned.
The furore that surrounded Kirk’s arrival surpassed even his own expectations, but not for the reasons he’d anticipated, although compliments and lewd suggestions abounded in equal numbers from his classmates, which he happily soaked up.
“Oh my god, you’ve got the same get-up as Professor Spock,” exclaimed someone in the small crowd surrounding him. “Only his is green and purple.”
Spock - a Vulcan name, and green and purple, the color scheme of the handsome stranger’s costume. Could it be…? Kirk wondered, his heart racing. He started to look around, over the sea of heads, in the hope of seeing him.
“Yeah, where is Professor Spock?” Jones from his engineering class wondered aloud, waving his pirate hook in the air vaguely. “We should get you two together.” He then lifted his black eye-patch and joined Kirk in looking about the room. But before Jones could say any more on the matter, the sea of costumed party-goers seemed to magically part, and at the other end of the divide the Vulcan, resplendent in his figure-hugging costume, stood tall and proud, feet slightly apart.
For a second and eternity, the world narrowed down to just the two of them, as if nothing else existed. While Kirk knew he looked pretty damn hot in his costume, the Vulcan’s looked awesome on him. His mouth went dry as he felt a flush crawl up his face at the sight of the absolutely gorgeous being, his cock twitching in interest. Fuck, he thought. The last thing he needed in that outfit was a hard-on.
The awful thought brought him back and the world intruded once again. He became vaguely aware that Uhura was standing beside Professor Spock, dressed in what looked like nineteenth century clothes, staring at him incredulously.
The professor walked towards him, each step graceful and poised, clearly eyeing him up and down until they stood face to face. “I had thought my costume would be unique this evening. I see I was in error.” The voice was quiet and even, no sign of accusation or annoyance coloring it.
“Me too,” Kirk responded - it had honestly not occurred to him that the Vulcan might be in StarFleet. He trailed off into an awkward silence as dark, unfathomable eyes held his before glancing around them where the crowd appeared to be hanging onto their every word.
It was as if his action of noticing them galvanized the people around them, because all of a sudden, the group dispersed.
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