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Since their last shoreleave, Spock could feel mischievous excitement and anticipation trickle over from his bond with Jim. Spock inquired after the source of this emotion only to receive a cheeky grin and be told to, “Wait and see.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Spock let the matter go. He would no doubt learn the source of Jim’s emotions eventually, and, as it turned out, Spock would not have to wait long.
The evening before their day off, the excitement reached its peak. When Jim excused himself from dinner early, Spock knew whatever was occurring had begun. Indeed, he came back to their quarters to find Jim sitting at their chess table with a smile on his face. And a box sitting in front of him.
Waving a hand towards the box, Jim said, “Care for a game, Mr. Spock?”
Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim, but he could not deny he was amused. And admittedly curious over the source of Jim’s excitement. He sat at their table. Jim’s excitement spiked as Spock lifted the lid from the box to reveal—chess pieces?
For a moment, Spock attempted to decipher why Jim would be so excited over chess pieces. Then, he caught the familiar scent of chocolate wafting from the box.
Blood rushed to Spock’s cheeks and ears, to Jim’s immediate delight. Spock narrowed his eyes at his bondmate.
Unrepentant in his mischief, Jim played dumb and asked, “Does that mean you don’t like it? I swear it’s good quality.”
Spock pressed his lips together to prevent himself from giving an exasperated huff. “I do not understand your obsession with my intoxicated state.”
“Yes you do. It’s kinda like your ‘fascination’ with how sappy I am after melds.”
“That is not the same.”
“Sure it’s not.”
A huff really did escape Spock at that: his bondmate was ridiculous. That being said, Spock was tempted by the smell of chocolate coming from the box, and they had no responsibilities the following morning…“I assume you have some plan for our usage of this.”
“Yes!” Jim exclaimed, immediately began arranging chocolate pieces onto the board. “Every time you take a piece, you have to eat it. I’ll take shots with my pieces to keep it fair.” Board complete, Jim turned white towards Spock. Then, he stood and retrieved a glass and a liquor bottle from a nearby shelf. “We play until the game’s over or one of us is too drunk to go on.”
“Very well.”
“Don’t act so reluctant. You know it’ll be fun,” Jim teased.
Choosing not to comment, Spock merely made his opening move.
****
At some point—maybe the fifth, seventh piece of chocolate?—Spock became less concerned with winning and more concerned with brushing his fingers against Jim’s as they played. Jim knew of course. That’s why he teasingly tapped his fingers and fiddled with his pieces. That was also why he giggled madly whenever Spock’s hand made a less-than-graceful dive for Jim’s.
Jim’s laughter transformed his whole body with joy. He would sway and his shoulders bounced and charming lines painted his face. Laughter created a twinkle in his ashayam’s eyes. Like the stars he so admired.
“We should have intercourse,” Spock announced apropos of his control being decimated by chocolate and his beloved being infinitely appealing.
The giggling increased. So much so that Jim could not reply.
Deciding to take the initiative, Spock drew Jim’s hand to his mouth, pressing kisses to the palm.
Sounding scandalized and looking delighted, Jim gasped. “Mr. Spock! So naughty. We haven’t finished our game.”
“I concede.” A petty competition was far less important than coupling with Jim. Spock knocked over his king. Then, an idea struck. He picked up the white chocolate king and lifted it to his beloved’s lips. “Eat your piece, Jim.”
With hooded eyes, Jim accepted the chocolate into his mouth as well as Spock’s pointer and middle fingers.
The wet heat of Jim’s mouth was a familiar pleasure, yet Spock never tired of it. Especially with how clever Jim’s tongue was: sliding over, under, between digits. A playful nip of teeth caused Spock to gasp. Then, the pressure surrounding his fingers increased as Jim sucked down the melted chocolate.
“Jim,” Spock moaned, “t’hy’la, I must have you.”
Slowly, Jim slid his mouth off the digits, allowing his tongue to drag along them in a parting caress.
Wanton and completely intoxicated, both men stood to relocate to bed. Unfortunately, Spock had stood too quickly. He found himself tumbling towards the floor! Jim tried to catch him, but he ended up being pulled down as well.
One or both of them managed to kick the chess table as they fell, causing chocolate pawns, rooks, and the like to rain down.
Another fit of giggles erupted from Jim. Between hiccuping laughs, he managed to get the words, “Too drunk.”
Despite being loath to admit it, Spock knew Jim was right. They were not coordinated enough to perform sexual acts at the moment.
Truly unfortunate.
Feeling Jim’s joy and the residual laughter against his chest, Spock supposed the situation could be worse. He wrapped his arms around his t’hy’la and settled in for the night.