And in the End, They Unite
Author: kitausu
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Uhura/T'Pring
Prompt: Architecture
Wordcount: 244
Rating: NC-17
Note: Title from the quote, "Dancing and architecture are the two primary and essential arts. The art of dancing stands at the source of all the arts that express themselves first in the human person. The art of building, or architecture, is the beginning of all the arts that lie outside the person; and in the end they unite. "
Uhura practically dances out of Sickbay, the stretch and discomfort of newly-regenerated skin negligible when she’s just glad her legs still work.
She bounces in the turbolift on the way to deck four, ready to replicate herself some chocolate and enjoy freedom.
The door to her quarters slides open, and Uhura’s breath is knocked out of her, warm Vulcan hands pressing her hips into the bulkhead. Uhura’s hands automatically tangle in long hair and pull, giving her leverage. She licks down T’Pring’s neck, elegant hands squeezing red-clad hips just a little tighter, until Uhura’s fighting with that grip, desperate for friction.
T’Pring breathes a stream of Vulcan endearments into Uhura’s neck, sliding a knee between Uhura’s legs and pressing in and up as Uhura pushes herself down, lets T’Pring feel how wet she is, how much she’s wanted this. T’Pring hisses and bites down on Uhura’s collarbone, softly, not enough to leave a mark. Uhura’s back arches off the wall, begging for more contact.
T’Pring complies, gorgeous fingers snaking up Uhura’s thigh, sliding teasingly over the fabric of her uniform before darting underneath.
Uhura moans, hooking a leg around T’Pring’s hips as T’Pring’s fingers rub gently-too gently-at her hipbones. Uhura lifts her other leg then, insistent, and when T’Pring shifts her weight to hold Uhura up two fingers slip inside, curling immediately, and Uhura doesn’t care that she has no leverage; she would gladly give up control to feel this fucking good.