Feedback: on AO3.
In the dim morning light filtering through the shades, Spock sat on an armchair and watched over Jim's sleep. He was lying naked on the bed, relaxed and peaceful after their lovemaking. He still held the corner of a sheet in one hand. The bed was huge, and yet Jim managed to make it look small. He was sprawled like a starfish, an arm flung out away from his head, his legs heavy on the mattress � he was the Northern star in Spock's night sky.
Spock could not watch him enough.
After a while, the Vulcan rose and walked to the side where Jim's head rested. He bent over it, examined and memorized it all over again � for later, lonelier years. He lightly kissed Jim's lips, nibbled at them, licked and nipped at them. Jim shifted a bit, and Spock took hold of each of his hands to pin them down securely. He went on his task of giving Jim better, warmer dreams.
Inch by inch, Spock covered Jim up with love and licks, working his path down. He knew every pore, every artery pulsing under the pink skin, and yet they were always new to him � cells would have died and been replaced by new ones, strangers to Spock's attention and care. And so he went to them all and reacquainted himself with each and every nook and cranny of Jim's body, from the thinnest skin of the eyelids to the rougher one on his finger pads.
Under his lips, Jim was becoming more restless, but he was still half-asleep and did not, could not protest. How could he? Spock took the longest, most careful and inclusive path he could make on Jim's sleep-warm body but always, always he was mindful of not arousing Jim enough that the Human would wake up fully. He had started to sigh from time to time, though, and those sighs gnawed at Spock's composure.
His body slowly covering more and more of Jim's, Spock mapped every single square centimetre of Jim's skin. Face to face, face to chest, Spock was going down, down until he finally reached his goal. Jim could not then remain half-asleep. He stirred, moaned and opened his eyes to stare at Spock's crotch, just as he felt a warm, warm mouth come down on him.
'Sp - ', he said.
He tried to touch Spock but felt his hands were held tightly in Spock's long fingers and so he leaned up and ran his tongue on the greenish slit. Spock buried his head in Jim's thigh at that.
'Jim', he said, 'Jim, please...'
The Vulcan wanted this to be a gift to his Captain, and so he raised his hips too high for Jim to reach. He let their fingers intertwine and his tongue wrap around Jim and he opened his mind to let Jim come in and Jim came, and came, and came.
He was really awake now. Spock still hovered over him though this time he was groin to groin and face to face with Jim, and the Human used the opportunity to flip them over.
'My Vulcan', he whispered to Spock's neck. 'You make me feel beautiful', he told a nipple.
'You are.'
'Only to you', he answered a shoulder.
'Are you not mine to watch?'
Jim stopped then to stare into Spock's warm brown eyes and kiss him between the eyebrows. What did those eyes really see? Did they still see the young Captain who thought himself experienced and jaded already, while he was just a space puppy?
Oh, during his first mission, he had truly been a sight to behold, beautiful, lusted after and desired � and how much he had used that charm in those years, when he didn't look so chubby and didn't have to let out his uniform at the waist a little more every year. He wasn't brash, young Captain Kirk anymore, a living, marble effigy of youth, strength and beauty. He had loved, lost and fought; he had seen Spock die, he had seen the Enterprise burn over an agonizing Genesis, and he had survived to get back everything that mattered.
Yes, he was still the most successful Captain of the Fleet, pot-belly or not. He still had Spock, who was crinkling the corner of his eyes at him, by his side � or under him, as was the case just now. And Spock loved him, and he was the best friend and officer and lover and everything... and he was Jim's.
A few more lines on Spock's face, a little more fat on himself. Didn't they both carry their lives on their own bodies?
'I love you', he said.
And everything was all right in the world.