Back To Human
A/N: Ooh, lookit, the first completely het thing I've ever posted on LJ, and the second completely het thing I've ever written ever. This is a follow-up to the Spock/kitten!Uhura fic and fanart.
There will be a small follow-up to this where they are back in their quarters, cuddling. And also I might write this from Uhura's point of view.
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Nyota turns back. And it's been a while, for both of them.
Something twisted inside Spock's stomach as he set the chocolate brown kitten down on the transporter pad. It was possible that he was nervous regarding the safe return of his lover, but this hot, uncomfortable weight in his stomach felt like more than that. He felt conflicted; reluctant to lose the small, furry presence in his life but at the same time desperately needing to feel her in his arms once again, solid and human. It had been too long, for both of them, despite his Vulcan control.
He stepped away, Jim gave the order to energise and Scotty activated the transporter. She was engulfed in light, this tiny, meowing, fragile thing, and he almost stepped forward. His hands twitched; his mother's terrified face against the apocalyptic Vulcan sky flashed across his mind, and he wondered how he would deal with another loss.
And then the light intensified and the dark form within it enlarged, and the light faded entirely, leaving her crouched in the middle of the pad, long limbs folded and hands pressed against the floor. Her hair fell across her face like dense sheets of rain, swishing gracefully from side to side as her gaze flickered from one person to another, her eyes wide and staring. They stared back at her, most likely uncomfortable about her nudity and unsure how to react to it.
Spock stepped forward and Nyota's eyes locked on him. Her pupils were still diamond shaped, although her irises were the warm brown he remembered, not the regal gold of the kitten. It was clear that some feline instinct remained, although she definitely recognised him. When Doctor McCoy stepped forward to examine her, she ignored him completely, as if she and Spock were the only beings in the room.
McCoy tried to shine a light in her eyes, but before he could brush her hair aside to get access, she braced herself against the pad and leapt though the air towards Spock, outstretched arms finding his shoulders and wrapping themselves around him before the rest of her body weight hit him straight in the middle of his torso. He managed to stay upright as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and his hands slid around her back of their own accord, finding the places they were needed to properly support her; one at the base of her spine, one between her shoulders.
She stared into his eyes for a second, breathing heavily, and dipped her head forward in a very feline manner in order to press their lips together. Her tongue pushed insistently inside his mouth, claiming him in a manner not entirely appropriate for present professional company. When he tried to protest, she took his lip between her teeth and growled affectionately.
He rested his forehead against hers, gently rebuffing her attempts to nuzzle their cheeks together. Her eyes were half closed, her breathing uneven and he was unsure whether the humans in the room would be able to smell her arousal, but he certainly could and it was making it difficult for him to hold her still.
“Here?” he asked, his tone disapproving. “Now?”
She growled playfully, her hands tightening on the back of his neck and her legs squeezing his waist, drawing them closer together. This must have broken Jim out of whatever incapacitory state he was experiencing, because he suddenly cleared his throat and ordered everyone out of the transporter room. Spock meant to thank him but could not tear his eyes away from Nyota's demanding gaze; they stared at each other, tension buzzing between them as everyone else hurried out in silence.
“Yes,” she breathed finally, catching Spock off-guard and managing to capture his mouth before he could pull away. Her tongue darted between his lips, he pressed his tongue back against hers and she caught it gently between her teeth. He did not let out a moan as she sucked upon it, but she must have felt his groin twitch, pressed as it was up against her, because she growled again in satisfaction and released his tongue so that she could press a wet kiss against his lips.
“Here,” she said, her voice dark with lust, “Now.”
Wordlessly, Spock took a step forward so that her back was pressed up against a column, sandwiched between the cold metal and his warm body. He pushed her up slightly in his embrace so that he could reach her nipples with his mouth. The soft, brown flesh was already hard, most likely in response to the temperature of the room, but when he lapped at it gently with his tongue it hardened fully, allowing him to surround it with his mouth and latch on with his teeth. Pleasuring a female, pleasuring Nyota, was an art form, and one that he would never easily forget. Her soft moans sounded like mewls as he applied just the right amount of pressure with his teeth, alternatively sucking and laving the nipple with his tongue.
She was rutting against him now, her arousal sharp in the air around them, and Spock found himself thrusting back against her, unable to resist the softness of her form after missing it for so long. He pulled back far enough to fit his hand between them, and slowly began to slide two fingers inside her. His care was apparently needless, because with one thrust of Nyota's hips his palm was pressed against her labia, his thumb in the perfect position to press firmly against her clitoris.
“Oh God,” she gasped, allowing her head to fall back against the column. Spock took advantage of this opportunity to press his mouth against her throat, sucking hard enough to draw blood to the surface, leaving marks just below what would be visible when she wore her uniform. Her legs were trembling, feet still locked together behind his back, and he felt her tighten around his fingers, her breath caught in her throat as she experienced her first orgasm in months. Because of him.
The scent in the air intensified, became stronger, filled his senses until all he could smell, and hear, and see, and taste was Nyota's arousal, her desire for him, her need for him. He gave her no chance to catch her breath, although he did her the courtesy of pulling his fingers out slowly before tearing at the fastening of his pants, drawing out his blood-flushed erection and pressing it between her labia. He stopped at her entrance to breathlessly whisper may I? but she just whimpered and pulled him inside with the tightening of her thighs.
Spock needed no further encouragement to bury himself inside her until their bodies met, hers soft and yielding, his hard and shaking with the pleasure and relief of being inside her once more. He murmured something into her ear as he thrust slowly, giving her time for another orgasm to build, needing to draw out his own orgasm because he hadn't done so much as touch himself for the entire time she was transformed.
Her small gasps on every inward thrust turned into soft moans, and then louder moans, and Spock began to thrust faster, not caring about control, aware only of her voice and the way that her body encompassed him, warm and slick and tight around him. He allowed his orgasm to wash over him, probably said something emotional that she wouldn't mention later, and when he regained sensibility he slid his hand between them and circled her clitoris until he felt her flutter around his softening penis.
Her skin was slick with sweat, her hair plastered against her face. She smiled down at him and all traces of the feline were gone.
“Missed you,” she said fondly.
There will be a small follow-up to this where they are back in their quarters, cuddling. And also I might write this from Uhura's point of view.
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Nyota turns back. And it's been a while, for both of them.
Something twisted inside Spock's stomach as he set the chocolate brown kitten down on the transporter pad. It was possible that he was nervous regarding the safe return of his lover, but this hot, uncomfortable weight in his stomach felt like more than that. He felt conflicted; reluctant to lose the small, furry presence in his life but at the same time desperately needing to feel her in his arms once again, solid and human. It had been too long, for both of them, despite his Vulcan control.
He stepped away, Jim gave the order to energise and Scotty activated the transporter. She was engulfed in light, this tiny, meowing, fragile thing, and he almost stepped forward. His hands twitched; his mother's terrified face against the apocalyptic Vulcan sky flashed across his mind, and he wondered how he would deal with another loss.
And then the light intensified and the dark form within it enlarged, and the light faded entirely, leaving her crouched in the middle of the pad, long limbs folded and hands pressed against the floor. Her hair fell across her face like dense sheets of rain, swishing gracefully from side to side as her gaze flickered from one person to another, her eyes wide and staring. They stared back at her, most likely uncomfortable about her nudity and unsure how to react to it.
Spock stepped forward and Nyota's eyes locked on him. Her pupils were still diamond shaped, although her irises were the warm brown he remembered, not the regal gold of the kitten. It was clear that some feline instinct remained, although she definitely recognised him. When Doctor McCoy stepped forward to examine her, she ignored him completely, as if she and Spock were the only beings in the room.
McCoy tried to shine a light in her eyes, but before he could brush her hair aside to get access, she braced herself against the pad and leapt though the air towards Spock, outstretched arms finding his shoulders and wrapping themselves around him before the rest of her body weight hit him straight in the middle of his torso. He managed to stay upright as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and his hands slid around her back of their own accord, finding the places they were needed to properly support her; one at the base of her spine, one between her shoulders.
She stared into his eyes for a second, breathing heavily, and dipped her head forward in a very feline manner in order to press their lips together. Her tongue pushed insistently inside his mouth, claiming him in a manner not entirely appropriate for present professional company. When he tried to protest, she took his lip between her teeth and growled affectionately.
He rested his forehead against hers, gently rebuffing her attempts to nuzzle their cheeks together. Her eyes were half closed, her breathing uneven and he was unsure whether the humans in the room would be able to smell her arousal, but he certainly could and it was making it difficult for him to hold her still.
“Here?” he asked, his tone disapproving. “Now?”
She growled playfully, her hands tightening on the back of his neck and her legs squeezing his waist, drawing them closer together. This must have broken Jim out of whatever incapacitory state he was experiencing, because he suddenly cleared his throat and ordered everyone out of the transporter room. Spock meant to thank him but could not tear his eyes away from Nyota's demanding gaze; they stared at each other, tension buzzing between them as everyone else hurried out in silence.
“Yes,” she breathed finally, catching Spock off-guard and managing to capture his mouth before he could pull away. Her tongue darted between his lips, he pressed his tongue back against hers and she caught it gently between her teeth. He did not let out a moan as she sucked upon it, but she must have felt his groin twitch, pressed as it was up against her, because she growled again in satisfaction and released his tongue so that she could press a wet kiss against his lips.
“Here,” she said, her voice dark with lust, “Now.”
Wordlessly, Spock took a step forward so that her back was pressed up against a column, sandwiched between the cold metal and his warm body. He pushed her up slightly in his embrace so that he could reach her nipples with his mouth. The soft, brown flesh was already hard, most likely in response to the temperature of the room, but when he lapped at it gently with his tongue it hardened fully, allowing him to surround it with his mouth and latch on with his teeth. Pleasuring a female, pleasuring Nyota, was an art form, and one that he would never easily forget. Her soft moans sounded like mewls as he applied just the right amount of pressure with his teeth, alternatively sucking and laving the nipple with his tongue.
She was rutting against him now, her arousal sharp in the air around them, and Spock found himself thrusting back against her, unable to resist the softness of her form after missing it for so long. He pulled back far enough to fit his hand between them, and slowly began to slide two fingers inside her. His care was apparently needless, because with one thrust of Nyota's hips his palm was pressed against her labia, his thumb in the perfect position to press firmly against her clitoris.
“Oh God,” she gasped, allowing her head to fall back against the column. Spock took advantage of this opportunity to press his mouth against her throat, sucking hard enough to draw blood to the surface, leaving marks just below what would be visible when she wore her uniform. Her legs were trembling, feet still locked together behind his back, and he felt her tighten around his fingers, her breath caught in her throat as she experienced her first orgasm in months. Because of him.
The scent in the air intensified, became stronger, filled his senses until all he could smell, and hear, and see, and taste was Nyota's arousal, her desire for him, her need for him. He gave her no chance to catch her breath, although he did her the courtesy of pulling his fingers out slowly before tearing at the fastening of his pants, drawing out his blood-flushed erection and pressing it between her labia. He stopped at her entrance to breathlessly whisper may I? but she just whimpered and pulled him inside with the tightening of her thighs.
Spock needed no further encouragement to bury himself inside her until their bodies met, hers soft and yielding, his hard and shaking with the pleasure and relief of being inside her once more. He murmured something into her ear as he thrust slowly, giving her time for another orgasm to build, needing to draw out his own orgasm because he hadn't done so much as touch himself for the entire time she was transformed.
Her small gasps on every inward thrust turned into soft moans, and then louder moans, and Spock began to thrust faster, not caring about control, aware only of her voice and the way that her body encompassed him, warm and slick and tight around him. He allowed his orgasm to wash over him, probably said something emotional that she wouldn't mention later, and when he regained sensibility he slid his hand between them and circled her clitoris until he felt her flutter around his softening penis.
Her skin was slick with sweat, her hair plastered against her face. She smiled down at him and all traces of the feline were gone.
“Missed you,” she said fondly.