fic | star trek: aos | waking

[mekosuchinae]

merrilily requested S/U: good morning kiss. :)

Title: Waking
Fandom: Star Trek: AOS
Rating: Pants.
Excerpt: Spock wakes at precisely 05:35 standard ship time, one hour and twenty-five minutes before he is due on the bridge.

Spock wakes at precisely 05:35 standard ship time, one hour and twenty-five minutes before he is due on the bridge. It is a length of time sufficient for the tasks he has outlined for completion, among them a long overdue sonic cleansing of the bathroom and the next three chapters of a stimulating if predictable detective novel which was recommended to him by Ensign Myung on the preceding Thursday.

Nyota sleeps curled around him, her leg folded across his waist, the fingers of her left hand knotted in his tunic; her cheek where it rests upon his collar is warm for a human, but cool to a Vulcan. She smells of vanilla and the light, aromatic chemicals present in her shampoo. He is careful when he extracts himself from her embrace, but it is inevitable that he disturb her, for Nyota has learned to sleep lightly and wake quickly, skills useful on a starship that is very far from safe harbors.

She shifts, nuzzling his throat. When she exhales on a hum, low and quiet, the sound of it reverberates against his skin. "Where do you think you're going?" she murmurs.

Spock removes her hand from his tunic. Her fingers are long and strong, the tips calloused from years of nimble work, and he succumbs to the temptation to kiss her middle finger at the joint where the medial and proximal phalanges meet. He says, "There are a number of small tasks which need to be addressed and resolved, preferably within the next twenty-four hour window. It is my intention to complete them before I am to report to duty."

"Oh, stay," Nyota sighs. "Leave it for later." She curls around him once more and scatters a wandering string of sweet, dry kisses upon his throat, his jaw, and the underside of his chin.

He runs his thumb down her palm and Nyota lifts herself from the bed, to turn her attentions to the sensitive stretch of skin behind his ear. She touches his cheek with the fingers of her left hand, each point of contact a cooling point.

Spock tells her, "To remain in bed when there is no compelling reason to support such a decision would be ... inefficient. Indefensible." He leans into her touch.

Nyota kisses the hinge of his jaw, the soft lobe of his ear. He cannot see her smile. "Stay," she says again. She whispers into his mouth: "Please."

He stays.