fic: Sexiled! (NC-17)
Sexiled!
an alternate take on Spock's senior year
A/N: This story is an off-shoot from chapter 2 of "Entanglement". If you haven't read that, here's the context: Spock is a 4th-year cadet, Uhura is a 1st-year. He's the TA for her Advanced Phonology course and they've been gradually becoming friends. This story is NOT a part of that story. It will take a very significant detour from that plot -- it is an alternate universe to that alternate universe, based on a few crucial decisions that should be pretty clear. Ah, the "many worlds" quantum theory, it's so useful in fanfic...
Also, I hope the changes in POV are obvious. I wanted to give some insight into Spock's thought processes, but have the actual porn in Uhura's POV since, well, All Fanfiction Authors (And Readers) Are Female, and you should write what you know, right?
RATING: NC-17. Here be explicit sex. No other warnings.
The fog was so thick that Cadet Uhura could barely tell she was going to the right building until she was actually walking up the steps. She swiped her ID card and hurried inside, sighing with relief to be out of the cold. She kicked herself a little, both for being out so late and for deciding against bringing a warm coat even though she knew the forecast before she went out.
As she made her way to the stairs, a light in the dorm's lounge caught her eye. Who would be there at this hour? It was nearly 0300, and since it was the first night of spring break many cadets had already left, either for home or simply a warmer climate. Nyota couldn't help but regret her agreement to stay in San Francisco with Gaila -- if she had simply said no, she would have at that moment been with her family in Nairobi, instead of freezing her ass off on the walk home from the club while wearing far too few clothes. But she had chosen what she did, and she made it a point to do everything in her life fully. What's done was done, and all that was left was to make the most of it.
Curiosity got the best of her and she stepped down into the carpeted lounge.
To her vast surprise, Cadet Spock -- her TA for Advanced Phonology -- was looking up at her from over the back of one of the couches. "Good evening."
"Hi." She moved further into the room, feeling a little silly in her scandalaously short sequined dress and insubstantial cardigan. "What are you doing here?"
Spock closed his book and rested it on one bent leg. "I live in this building."
Nyota laughed nervously. "Right. I guess I meant to say, fancy seeing you here in the lounge, at this hour."
He raised an eyebrow in an expression she had come to know well. "I could say the same."
Suddenly she felt self-conscious, and crossed her arms. "My roommate asked me to go clubbing with her. She'll probably be out dancing until dawn, but I got tired."
"I have never understood the human desire to 'rest' by engaging in frivolity," Spock declared, then looked thoughtful. "I amend my statement; your roommate is Orion. Many species display this illogical tendency."
She giggled. "There's more to it than you care to see, I think. Anyway, what I don't understand is you reading in the lounge in the middle of the night. It seems like your room would be more comfortable."
Spock pursed his lips. "Indeed. However, my roommate's girlfriend is visiting and I felt my presence was ... unwelcome."
"Oh no, you've been sexiled!"
He gave her a look that was part surprise and all amusement. "Sexiled? A portmanteau of sex and exile, I take it."
She smiled wryly. "I suppose there's no Vulcan equivalent."
"Certainly not."
"Well, that sucks. Not that Vulcan doesn't have a word for it, but the fact that you got kicked out."
He nodded and sighed. "Yes. The furniture here is less than ideal."
As the silence between them grew, Uhura had an idea that she knew was crazy. It occurred to her that she would never have considered it -- EVER -- if she had been totally sober. With that in mind, she decided that she had better do it because she would probably never get another chance.
She walked around the couch and sat on the end by Spock's feet. He pulled them closer to himself and sat up a little, the book held tightly in his hands. Her eyes swept over him, and she mused that it was the first time she had seen him in anything other than his uniform. What he wore now was very simple and surprisingly casual -- a royal blue sweatshirt emblazoned with the Academy Chess League logo, soft black pants, and thick grey socks. Her visual appraisal reached his face, his eyes wide with an emotion that was either fascination or fear, or possibly both.
"So, um, I have my room to myself tonight."
XxXxX
Spock's brain ground to a halt, and he stared at Nyota. He knew that cadets sometimes took refuge in their friends' rooms when they were kicked out, but he would never ask such a thing of Nyota. Or, really, anyone. One night in the lounge was not a problem for him.
But why did it matter that her roommate was out?
He opened his mouth to speak, and after a very long pause found the only words he could possibly say. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."
She bit her lip. "Spock, you know that I like you, right?"
"I know that we are friends, by human standards."
She shook her head, and the waves of her hair that fell around her face bounced gently. He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he had not slept in ten days, and -- perhaps more importantly -- had not meditated in four. His control was poor, and his baser drives were so strong that he had to fight to keep them from overwhelming him.
"No," she said, "I mean, I like you. I think you're very attractive, you make my heart beat faster, all that stuff." She tucked some hair behind an ear. "I guess what I'm saying is, do you want to do something about it."
He couldn't take his eyes off her. "You mean sex."
She blushed and looked at her knees. "Yeah."
He knew he was not being completely rational when he said, "I also find you attractive."
She beamed at him and stood up. "Let's go upstairs."
He rose and brushed the backs of her fingers with his before switching off the light and following her up to her room. "40 percent lights. Sorry about the mess," she said. "I didn't anticipate having company."
He took in the room. It was nearly identical to his -- the furniture was even arranged in the same pattern. And, like his room, half of the furniture was completely covered in clutter. The biggest difference was that the things that would have been his were Uhura's, and were not quite as immaculate as his -- there was a haphazard stack of books on the desk, and a few articles of clothing tossed on the bed. She picked these up and set them on the chair, then sat on the bed and motioned for him to join her. He placed his book on her bedside table and sat beside her, their knees touching. One of her hands reached out and rested on his knee, and one of his covered it lightly.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed deeply. "Spock."
"Yes?"
She opened her eyes and looked at him as if challenging him. "Kiss me."
Hesitantly, he brought one hand to the side of her face and leaned in. Their lips brushed, and he leaned back.
Nyota sighed and the corner of her mouth rose. "No, I mean, kiss me like you want to do me."
Spock's hand fell, and she seemed startled. "What is it?"
"It's ... that is, I ..." He couldn't say it. His ears grew hot and he looked away.
"Oh." Her hand moved from his knee, and after a disheartening pause, gently touched his chest. "It's okay to be nervous your first time, Spock."
He shook his head. "It is illogical. There is no reason for me to be nervous."
"It's really okay," she insisted, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Totally normal. And it doesn't bother me that you're inexperienced. I still want you."
He made eye contact with her, and her gaze seemed to reach into his soul and tug him towards her. He steadied himself with a breath. "Teach me."
XxXxX
Teach me, he had said, and Nyota's heart began to pound in her chest. She could hardly believe that this gorgeous man had never made love before, and she was incredibly flattered that he wanted to do it with her.
She mustered her courage, then lifted herself to straddle him as he sat on her bed. Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him, gently at first, but with rapidly deepening passion as his hands at first grabbed her hips, then wrapped around her back. His mouth was hot and hungry against hers, and the taste of him drove her crazy with lust. With a few awkward tugs she removed his sweatshirt and the t-shirt he wore underneath. She helped him pull off her sweater, and he unzipped the back of her dress even before she could stand up to do it herself.
Spock gasped when she broke the kiss and stood, and he watched her hungrily as she let the garment fall to the floor, then unhooked her bra and stepped back to him. His hot fingers slipped the straps off her shoulders, then moved the fabric away to expose her breasts. He almost seemed not to know what to do with them, so she took his wrists and guided his hands until he began to gently knead and squeeze, and to tease her nipples that hardened at the attention.
"What should I do?" he asked, his voice deep.
"Take off your pants."
He looked up with an amazingly calm expression, then rose and slipped out of his sweatpants. They stood there for a moment, she wearing only her favorite lacy panties, he in his socks and regulation grey boxer briefs that entirely failed to hide his arousal. His body was exactly as perfect as she had imagined, which was in itself fairly astonishing. Pale green-tinged skin, lean muscles, dark hair on his arms and chest, which made a little trail right down under the waist band of his underwear. She didn't try to restrain her impulse to touch him, and he ran his hands down her shoulders and back as she explored his chest, his shoulders, those perfect arms and well-defined abs ...
Again she took his head in her hands and kissed him. This time he responded instantly, and followed her without hesitation as she pulled him on top of her on the bed. He pressed one of his knees between her legs, and she moaned as he brushed her aching vulva through her panties.
Spock pulled back and raised himself up, looking down at her from his position kneeling between her legs. "Should I take off your underwear?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Oh, please," she breathed.
With agonizing precision, he trailed the fingers of one hand down her side and slipped the purple lace over her hips, exposing to the cool air of the room the part of her that longed the most to be touched. He dropped the underwear off the side of the bed, then lowered to his elbows between her thighs and gave her a look that she was sure was teasing before placing a chaste kiss on her clitoris.
Nyota felt like she could writhe right out of her skin. He licked her slowly, and the delicious agony became too much to bear. She pulled him forcibly up to her face and devoured his lips, savoring the light taste of herself on his tongue.
Spock pulled away with a soft moan and pushed his underwear down, freeing his verdant penis that strained for her. Nyota exercised great restraint in letting him get the fabric completely off his legs before taking it firmly and pulling him back down over her. His wide brown eyes were fixed on her face as she guided him to her entrance, and they closed as he pressed tentatively into her.
Their synchronized deep breaths were the only sound in the room as their bodies melded together for the first time. He stretched her exquisitely as he embedded himself in her, then, with a final shift of his pelvis, relaxed visibly and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
Nyota sighed and rocked her hips as he began to move again, pulling their bodies only very slightly apart before pushing them back together. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her ankles over his knees, holding him tightly to her. His rhythm faltered, but he regained it quickly, and hastened his pace as she clutched him and her breathing became uneven.
How is he so good? she wondered. The sensations he evoked in her were so much more intense than what she had ever felt from a partner before. It was as though he had been made specifically to fit her, to create pressure and friction in exactly the way that her body wanted it the most.
Of course, nothing that good could last for long. She felt her grip on reality fraying as he drove her closer to the edge, each rock of his hips a steady step towards the looming abyss. As the solidity of the present befan to fall away, she squeezed him as hard as she could, with all of her body.
And then she was gone, falling through the dark ecstacy where nothing existed except him, her, and their gasping, ragged pleasure.
After a brief eternity, her dorm room solidified. Spock's hot, damp body was heavy above her, and his head lay on her shoulder with his forehead pressed against the side of her neck. She was dimly aware of a dully throbbing pain near her collarbone, and made a mental note to check both of them for bruises before anyone could ask questions. While nothing they had done was against any rules, she didn't want to deal with the questions from well-meaning friends, and she wanted to make very sure she didn't become "the girl who slept with the Vulcan TA."
She gingerly lifted one hand and ran it over the smooth hair on the back of his head. He lifted himself on barely trembling arms to look at her. "Was it -- was I -- satisfactory?"
"Oh, Spock," she chuckled. "I have no idea what you did, but I hope you remember how to do it, because that was amazing."
Slowly, he disentangled himself from her and lay beside her, with one arm loosely resting across her hips. "I have a hypothesis."
She turned her head to look at him; his face was only inches away on her pillow. "Yes?"
"Vulcans, as you know, are touch telepaths. Generally we cannot make any deep mind contact without considerable effort, but it is not difficult to create an empathic connection, particularly with parts of the body that have a high nerve density."
"A high nerve density? So, that would be the fingers, mostly, which explains why Vulcans never shake hands."
He nodded. "It seems that the high nerve density in the genitals is also capable of creating an empathic connection. I believe that we connected and experienced one another's pleasure during intercourse, which resulted in a kind of feedback loop."
"That's kind of amazing."
"Perhaps it is, to someone who is unaccustomed to telepathy. I was too caught up in what we were doing to notice that it happened, otherwise I would have asked your permission before allowing it to happen."
"It's fine." She rolled on her side to face him and touched his face gently. "Better than fine, in fact. I wish sex could always be like that."
The intensity in his eyes startled her. "Perhaps it can be."
"Only if you're a Vulcan though."
He raised an eyebrow. "Or ..."
His meaning dawned suddenly, and she blushed. "I have to go clean up."
When she returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, he was asleep in a nest of her blankets with his back pressed against the wall, leaving her enough room to slip in comfortably beside him. His radiant heat soothed her even though they did not touch, and she soon drifted into unconsciousness.
XxXxX
Spock woke suddenly and struggled not to panic while his groggy brain processed and retrieved information about the previous night. His heart rate slowed to normal as he remembered -- he was in Uhura's bed.
Where was Uhura?
He heard a soft melody and the sound of rushing water from the bathroom, and smelled a faint floral aroma that he guessed was her soap. So she was awake, and taking a shower. He checked his internal clock -- 1022.
The noise that had awakened him happened again -- it was the chirping of his comm. He picked it out of the pocket of his pants that still lay in a heap on the floor. There were three texts from his roommate, the first from 0915 that morning.
Heading to the cafeteria with Becca. Sorry I had to pull that on you last night.
The second and third had been sent only minutes apart.
I don't know if you got my first text but you can come back to the room now.
Where are you? I thought you were staying in the lounge but nobody has seen you since last night.
Spock's brows drew together slightly. Humans could be so fickle. Twelve hours ago, Brian hadn't had a single thought for Spock's well-being, fixated as he was on spending time with his girlfriend. And now, he could read the concern even through the impersonal characters on the comm. He texted a short note back.
I found another place to stay.
Uhura came out of the bathroom wearing a robe and rubbing her wet hair with a towel. "Hey, you're awake. Sleep well?"
"Yes." He set his comm on her bedside table and self-consciously pulled the blankets across his lap.
"Good. You up for breakfast? I'm starving."
"The cafeteria closed twenty-three minutes ago and will not reopen until noon."
She glanced at a clock. "Is it really that late? Shit. Well, we could go off-campus. I know a place close by that makes the best falafel you've ever had."
"That would be satisfactory."
She chuckled as she shook her hair back and grabbed a brush from the clutter in front of a mirror. "Great. Do you want to go get fresh clothes and meet me here in twenty minutes?"
Spock didn't relish the thought of confronting Brian and Becca if they were still in the room, and the inevitable inquisition he would get. But the prospect of a meal with Uhura was pleasant enough to be worth it. He nodded to her reflection as he got up and began to dress. "I will be back in twenty minutes."
THE END
an alternate take on Spock's senior year
A/N: This story is an off-shoot from chapter 2 of "Entanglement". If you haven't read that, here's the context: Spock is a 4th-year cadet, Uhura is a 1st-year. He's the TA for her Advanced Phonology course and they've been gradually becoming friends. This story is NOT a part of that story. It will take a very significant detour from that plot -- it is an alternate universe to that alternate universe, based on a few crucial decisions that should be pretty clear. Ah, the "many worlds" quantum theory, it's so useful in fanfic...
Also, I hope the changes in POV are obvious. I wanted to give some insight into Spock's thought processes, but have the actual porn in Uhura's POV since, well, All Fanfiction Authors (And Readers) Are Female, and you should write what you know, right?
RATING: NC-17. Here be explicit sex. No other warnings.
The fog was so thick that Cadet Uhura could barely tell she was going to the right building until she was actually walking up the steps. She swiped her ID card and hurried inside, sighing with relief to be out of the cold. She kicked herself a little, both for being out so late and for deciding against bringing a warm coat even though she knew the forecast before she went out.
As she made her way to the stairs, a light in the dorm's lounge caught her eye. Who would be there at this hour? It was nearly 0300, and since it was the first night of spring break many cadets had already left, either for home or simply a warmer climate. Nyota couldn't help but regret her agreement to stay in San Francisco with Gaila -- if she had simply said no, she would have at that moment been with her family in Nairobi, instead of freezing her ass off on the walk home from the club while wearing far too few clothes. But she had chosen what she did, and she made it a point to do everything in her life fully. What's done was done, and all that was left was to make the most of it.
Curiosity got the best of her and she stepped down into the carpeted lounge.
To her vast surprise, Cadet Spock -- her TA for Advanced Phonology -- was looking up at her from over the back of one of the couches. "Good evening."
"Hi." She moved further into the room, feeling a little silly in her scandalaously short sequined dress and insubstantial cardigan. "What are you doing here?"
Spock closed his book and rested it on one bent leg. "I live in this building."
Nyota laughed nervously. "Right. I guess I meant to say, fancy seeing you here in the lounge, at this hour."
He raised an eyebrow in an expression she had come to know well. "I could say the same."
Suddenly she felt self-conscious, and crossed her arms. "My roommate asked me to go clubbing with her. She'll probably be out dancing until dawn, but I got tired."
"I have never understood the human desire to 'rest' by engaging in frivolity," Spock declared, then looked thoughtful. "I amend my statement; your roommate is Orion. Many species display this illogical tendency."
She giggled. "There's more to it than you care to see, I think. Anyway, what I don't understand is you reading in the lounge in the middle of the night. It seems like your room would be more comfortable."
Spock pursed his lips. "Indeed. However, my roommate's girlfriend is visiting and I felt my presence was ... unwelcome."
"Oh no, you've been sexiled!"
He gave her a look that was part surprise and all amusement. "Sexiled? A portmanteau of sex and exile, I take it."
She smiled wryly. "I suppose there's no Vulcan equivalent."
"Certainly not."
"Well, that sucks. Not that Vulcan doesn't have a word for it, but the fact that you got kicked out."
He nodded and sighed. "Yes. The furniture here is less than ideal."
As the silence between them grew, Uhura had an idea that she knew was crazy. It occurred to her that she would never have considered it -- EVER -- if she had been totally sober. With that in mind, she decided that she had better do it because she would probably never get another chance.
She walked around the couch and sat on the end by Spock's feet. He pulled them closer to himself and sat up a little, the book held tightly in his hands. Her eyes swept over him, and she mused that it was the first time she had seen him in anything other than his uniform. What he wore now was very simple and surprisingly casual -- a royal blue sweatshirt emblazoned with the Academy Chess League logo, soft black pants, and thick grey socks. Her visual appraisal reached his face, his eyes wide with an emotion that was either fascination or fear, or possibly both.
"So, um, I have my room to myself tonight."
XxXxX
Spock's brain ground to a halt, and he stared at Nyota. He knew that cadets sometimes took refuge in their friends' rooms when they were kicked out, but he would never ask such a thing of Nyota. Or, really, anyone. One night in the lounge was not a problem for him.
But why did it matter that her roommate was out?
He opened his mouth to speak, and after a very long pause found the only words he could possibly say. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."
She bit her lip. "Spock, you know that I like you, right?"
"I know that we are friends, by human standards."
She shook her head, and the waves of her hair that fell around her face bounced gently. He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he had not slept in ten days, and -- perhaps more importantly -- had not meditated in four. His control was poor, and his baser drives were so strong that he had to fight to keep them from overwhelming him.
"No," she said, "I mean, I like you. I think you're very attractive, you make my heart beat faster, all that stuff." She tucked some hair behind an ear. "I guess what I'm saying is, do you want to do something about it."
He couldn't take his eyes off her. "You mean sex."
She blushed and looked at her knees. "Yeah."
He knew he was not being completely rational when he said, "I also find you attractive."
She beamed at him and stood up. "Let's go upstairs."
He rose and brushed the backs of her fingers with his before switching off the light and following her up to her room. "40 percent lights. Sorry about the mess," she said. "I didn't anticipate having company."
He took in the room. It was nearly identical to his -- the furniture was even arranged in the same pattern. And, like his room, half of the furniture was completely covered in clutter. The biggest difference was that the things that would have been his were Uhura's, and were not quite as immaculate as his -- there was a haphazard stack of books on the desk, and a few articles of clothing tossed on the bed. She picked these up and set them on the chair, then sat on the bed and motioned for him to join her. He placed his book on her bedside table and sat beside her, their knees touching. One of her hands reached out and rested on his knee, and one of his covered it lightly.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed deeply. "Spock."
"Yes?"
She opened her eyes and looked at him as if challenging him. "Kiss me."
Hesitantly, he brought one hand to the side of her face and leaned in. Their lips brushed, and he leaned back.
Nyota sighed and the corner of her mouth rose. "No, I mean, kiss me like you want to do me."
Spock's hand fell, and she seemed startled. "What is it?"
"It's ... that is, I ..." He couldn't say it. His ears grew hot and he looked away.
"Oh." Her hand moved from his knee, and after a disheartening pause, gently touched his chest. "It's okay to be nervous your first time, Spock."
He shook his head. "It is illogical. There is no reason for me to be nervous."
"It's really okay," she insisted, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Totally normal. And it doesn't bother me that you're inexperienced. I still want you."
He made eye contact with her, and her gaze seemed to reach into his soul and tug him towards her. He steadied himself with a breath. "Teach me."
XxXxX
Teach me, he had said, and Nyota's heart began to pound in her chest. She could hardly believe that this gorgeous man had never made love before, and she was incredibly flattered that he wanted to do it with her.
She mustered her courage, then lifted herself to straddle him as he sat on her bed. Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him, gently at first, but with rapidly deepening passion as his hands at first grabbed her hips, then wrapped around her back. His mouth was hot and hungry against hers, and the taste of him drove her crazy with lust. With a few awkward tugs she removed his sweatshirt and the t-shirt he wore underneath. She helped him pull off her sweater, and he unzipped the back of her dress even before she could stand up to do it herself.
Spock gasped when she broke the kiss and stood, and he watched her hungrily as she let the garment fall to the floor, then unhooked her bra and stepped back to him. His hot fingers slipped the straps off her shoulders, then moved the fabric away to expose her breasts. He almost seemed not to know what to do with them, so she took his wrists and guided his hands until he began to gently knead and squeeze, and to tease her nipples that hardened at the attention.
"What should I do?" he asked, his voice deep.
"Take off your pants."
He looked up with an amazingly calm expression, then rose and slipped out of his sweatpants. They stood there for a moment, she wearing only her favorite lacy panties, he in his socks and regulation grey boxer briefs that entirely failed to hide his arousal. His body was exactly as perfect as she had imagined, which was in itself fairly astonishing. Pale green-tinged skin, lean muscles, dark hair on his arms and chest, which made a little trail right down under the waist band of his underwear. She didn't try to restrain her impulse to touch him, and he ran his hands down her shoulders and back as she explored his chest, his shoulders, those perfect arms and well-defined abs ...
Again she took his head in her hands and kissed him. This time he responded instantly, and followed her without hesitation as she pulled him on top of her on the bed. He pressed one of his knees between her legs, and she moaned as he brushed her aching vulva through her panties.
Spock pulled back and raised himself up, looking down at her from his position kneeling between her legs. "Should I take off your underwear?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Oh, please," she breathed.
With agonizing precision, he trailed the fingers of one hand down her side and slipped the purple lace over her hips, exposing to the cool air of the room the part of her that longed the most to be touched. He dropped the underwear off the side of the bed, then lowered to his elbows between her thighs and gave her a look that she was sure was teasing before placing a chaste kiss on her clitoris.
Nyota felt like she could writhe right out of her skin. He licked her slowly, and the delicious agony became too much to bear. She pulled him forcibly up to her face and devoured his lips, savoring the light taste of herself on his tongue.
Spock pulled away with a soft moan and pushed his underwear down, freeing his verdant penis that strained for her. Nyota exercised great restraint in letting him get the fabric completely off his legs before taking it firmly and pulling him back down over her. His wide brown eyes were fixed on her face as she guided him to her entrance, and they closed as he pressed tentatively into her.
Their synchronized deep breaths were the only sound in the room as their bodies melded together for the first time. He stretched her exquisitely as he embedded himself in her, then, with a final shift of his pelvis, relaxed visibly and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
Nyota sighed and rocked her hips as he began to move again, pulling their bodies only very slightly apart before pushing them back together. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her ankles over his knees, holding him tightly to her. His rhythm faltered, but he regained it quickly, and hastened his pace as she clutched him and her breathing became uneven.
How is he so good? she wondered. The sensations he evoked in her were so much more intense than what she had ever felt from a partner before. It was as though he had been made specifically to fit her, to create pressure and friction in exactly the way that her body wanted it the most.
Of course, nothing that good could last for long. She felt her grip on reality fraying as he drove her closer to the edge, each rock of his hips a steady step towards the looming abyss. As the solidity of the present befan to fall away, she squeezed him as hard as she could, with all of her body.
And then she was gone, falling through the dark ecstacy where nothing existed except him, her, and their gasping, ragged pleasure.
After a brief eternity, her dorm room solidified. Spock's hot, damp body was heavy above her, and his head lay on her shoulder with his forehead pressed against the side of her neck. She was dimly aware of a dully throbbing pain near her collarbone, and made a mental note to check both of them for bruises before anyone could ask questions. While nothing they had done was against any rules, she didn't want to deal with the questions from well-meaning friends, and she wanted to make very sure she didn't become "the girl who slept with the Vulcan TA."
She gingerly lifted one hand and ran it over the smooth hair on the back of his head. He lifted himself on barely trembling arms to look at her. "Was it -- was I -- satisfactory?"
"Oh, Spock," she chuckled. "I have no idea what you did, but I hope you remember how to do it, because that was amazing."
Slowly, he disentangled himself from her and lay beside her, with one arm loosely resting across her hips. "I have a hypothesis."
She turned her head to look at him; his face was only inches away on her pillow. "Yes?"
"Vulcans, as you know, are touch telepaths. Generally we cannot make any deep mind contact without considerable effort, but it is not difficult to create an empathic connection, particularly with parts of the body that have a high nerve density."
"A high nerve density? So, that would be the fingers, mostly, which explains why Vulcans never shake hands."
He nodded. "It seems that the high nerve density in the genitals is also capable of creating an empathic connection. I believe that we connected and experienced one another's pleasure during intercourse, which resulted in a kind of feedback loop."
"That's kind of amazing."
"Perhaps it is, to someone who is unaccustomed to telepathy. I was too caught up in what we were doing to notice that it happened, otherwise I would have asked your permission before allowing it to happen."
"It's fine." She rolled on her side to face him and touched his face gently. "Better than fine, in fact. I wish sex could always be like that."
The intensity in his eyes startled her. "Perhaps it can be."
"Only if you're a Vulcan though."
He raised an eyebrow. "Or ..."
His meaning dawned suddenly, and she blushed. "I have to go clean up."
When she returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, he was asleep in a nest of her blankets with his back pressed against the wall, leaving her enough room to slip in comfortably beside him. His radiant heat soothed her even though they did not touch, and she soon drifted into unconsciousness.
XxXxX
Spock woke suddenly and struggled not to panic while his groggy brain processed and retrieved information about the previous night. His heart rate slowed to normal as he remembered -- he was in Uhura's bed.
Where was Uhura?
He heard a soft melody and the sound of rushing water from the bathroom, and smelled a faint floral aroma that he guessed was her soap. So she was awake, and taking a shower. He checked his internal clock -- 1022.
The noise that had awakened him happened again -- it was the chirping of his comm. He picked it out of the pocket of his pants that still lay in a heap on the floor. There were three texts from his roommate, the first from 0915 that morning.
Heading to the cafeteria with Becca. Sorry I had to pull that on you last night.
The second and third had been sent only minutes apart.
I don't know if you got my first text but you can come back to the room now.
Where are you? I thought you were staying in the lounge but nobody has seen you since last night.
Spock's brows drew together slightly. Humans could be so fickle. Twelve hours ago, Brian hadn't had a single thought for Spock's well-being, fixated as he was on spending time with his girlfriend. And now, he could read the concern even through the impersonal characters on the comm. He texted a short note back.
I found another place to stay.
Uhura came out of the bathroom wearing a robe and rubbing her wet hair with a towel. "Hey, you're awake. Sleep well?"
"Yes." He set his comm on her bedside table and self-consciously pulled the blankets across his lap.
"Good. You up for breakfast? I'm starving."
"The cafeteria closed twenty-three minutes ago and will not reopen until noon."
She glanced at a clock. "Is it really that late? Shit. Well, we could go off-campus. I know a place close by that makes the best falafel you've ever had."
"That would be satisfactory."
She chuckled as she shook her hair back and grabbed a brush from the clutter in front of a mirror. "Great. Do you want to go get fresh clothes and meet me here in twenty minutes?"
Spock didn't relish the thought of confronting Brian and Becca if they were still in the room, and the inevitable inquisition he would get. But the prospect of a meal with Uhura was pleasant enough to be worth it. He nodded to her reflection as he got up and began to dress. "I will be back in twenty minutes."
THE END