spock: logic is sexy

Fic: Not for the Last Time (Pike/Number One)

Title: Not for the Last Time
Author: igrockspock
Pairing: Pike/Number One
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Pike is nearly killed on an away mission, Number One shows him how grateful she is that he's alive. In other words: shameless oral sex porn.



One wakes with a start from a dream she cannot remember. Given the events of the past few days, she does not imagine it was a very good one. She lays her face against Chris' bare chest, trying to regain her lost calm. It does not work; she ends up trying to decide if the new, pink skin there feels any different from the old. It doesn't seem to, but then, she cannot say for sure that she remembers exactly what his skin felt like before. Brushing aside a faint and irrational surge of guilt, she pushes herself up on one elbow and traces a finger along his chest where she thinks the jagged gash had been. With all the blood, she hadn't really been able to see. She can't see now in the dark either, and in any case, there is no trace of the wound. Dermal regenerators leave no scars. If she had not been in the transporter room, she would never have known that three days ago, Chris had arrived unconscious on a transporter pad, spilling bright red blood down the steps and into the carpet. Now it's as if nothing had ever happened.

She sits up fully now, shivering in the cool breeze of the climate control unit. They rarely sleep naked; it's not practical when they might have to leap out of bed as soon as a red alert sounds. But tonight, Chris' first night out of sickbay, she had needed to feel his skin against hers. Not that she had said that. She had only wordlessly undressed, and he had followed suit. She wonders if she should feel guilty for that too -- for pretending to be frank when she rarely speaks her emotions and so often hides them.

She presses her hand flat against his chest, tracing ridges of muscle down to his abdomen. He does not waken, but his fingers twitch faintly against her thigh. She runs her fingers along his ribs and finds the familiar scar. When he was fifteen, his horse had thrown him against a barb wire fence. He did not want to worry his parents, so he had treated the wound himself. Later, he had had to show her pictures of a ranch and a barb wire fence. Now she has images, but no understanding; she could not imagine a world of horse rides and seemingly limitless freedom, or parents who loved so much they needed to be protected from a child's small hurts. She wonders if she is as alien to him as he sometimes is to her.

Her fingers continue their exploration down the line where his groin meets his leg, then across the coarse hair of his thighs. And it does feel like exploration, here in the dark and quiet, even though she has traced this route a hundred times before. Chris' breathing continues, steady and even, but she leans in closer to watch the faint swelling beneath the twisted sheet. Her face pressed against his chest once again, she runs her hand further down his leg, all the way down to his knee, and then back up along the inside of his thigh. His legs part for her, just a little bit, and she wonders if he his awake now, but she can hear no change in the steady rhythm of his breathing. She rubs her thumb along the soft, nearly hairless skin at top of his thigh for a second longer before she moves to cup his balls in her hand. With her other hand, she pulls the sheet aside, and then she begins sliding down his body toward his steadily hardening cock, planting kisses as she goes.

She pauses for a moment, lips poised above him. She never can decide which to do first: run her tongue along the seam of his shaft or lick away the gleaming droplets at the head. She breathes out hard and watches him shiver as her breath hits his sensitive skin, then leans in to lick the length of him. When she reaches the top, she curves her tongue over the head, dragging her lips across the spot where it meets the shaft. He moans then, and she knows he is awake, but she does not look into his eyes, just licks her lips so she can taste him there. She leans down again, running her tongue up the length of him and letting her breasts brush his thighs before she takes him into her mouth. His hands tangle in her hair, pressing against the back of her head just a little bit, just enough to let her know he wants this. Her mouth slides back and forth over and over again, not so slow that she tortures him, not so fast that she can't swipe her tongue against the slit at the head of his cock with every pass. As she settles into her rhythm, she realizes this is the first time in a very long time that she has felt even remotely in control.

When he is slick with her saliva, she pulls back for a moment, letting her face rest against the burning heat of him while she catches her breath. Then she wraps her fingers around him, squeezing the base of his cock while she traces her thumb along the edge of the head. She works her hand up and down him, twisting her wrist at the top, feeling her palm grow wetter with every slide. He gasps every time she reaches the head, and she bends lower, pressing her lips against his balls. When her tongue moves in gentle spirals against the soft flesh, she thinks but does not say what if we had never gotten to do this again? and you cannot risk your life like that because it isn't just yours anymore. These are things she cannot say aloud, not when they have both agreed they belong to the ship before each other, not when they have promised that they will never be less a captain or a commander for the sake of their relationship. When his fingers slowly comb the length of her hair, she thinks she hears an I'm sorry, but it does not stop her from jabbing her tongue a little deeper into the sensitive skin of his balls. He pulls her up then, not-quite-gentle pressure on her head leading her back to his cock. She follows willingly and takes the length of him into her mouth, feeling him grow larger and hotter with every pass. Her fingernails dig into his thighs, his hands tug on her hair.

"One," he rasps, her name a sudden and hard exhalation. She knows he is close then, and she leans forward to let hot cum splash against her breasts. When she watches him fall apart beneath her, she finally knows he is alive.
So the part where you got #6: "we're not dead!sex" without even an indication that it is a truly bulletproof kink of mine omg. And and and. (And I have read this a zillion times ♥)

she thinks but does not say what if we had never gotten to do this again? and you cannot risk your life like that because it isn't just yours anymore. These are things she cannot say aloud, not when they have both agreed they belong to the ship before each other, not when they have promised that they will never be less a captain or a commander for the sake of their relationship.


Oh god also this sums up more eloquently than I could so much of exactly what I love about these two. Because they both put themselves second to their professional responsibilities also I heart this SO MUCH. ♥
Yay! I am so glad you liked it. Thank you for the nudge toward writing Pike/Number One - I have missed them muchly!
Oooh, this is blisteringly hot. A gorgeous take on not-dead-yet-sex and I love how you fit the relationship musings into the sexings. Thank you for sharing! :D
A story about what's not said cannot possibly be as effortless as you've made it seem, and I can't think of when I've last read such a lyrical blowjob. Really. This is really gorgeous.
Thank you so much! I was kind of worried that the descriptions were overly clinical, so I'm really glad you thought it worked.
Thank you so much! Good characterization means a lot to me, so I'm glad you thought it worked here :)
the first time in a very long time that she has felt even remotely in control

it isn't just yours anymore


ooo, nicely, nicely done.
Now she has images, but no understanding; she could not imagine a world of horse rides and seemingly limitless freedom, or parents who loved so much they needed to be protected from a child's small hurts. She wonders if she is as alien to him as he sometimes is to her.

aiyeee i love when the aliens are aliens and not weird humans. and, oh, duty before all else, that's another thing i love, where people are in a relationship, but Getting The Job Done comes first.
Thank you so much! This is my absolute favorite pairing, so it means a lot that you enjoyed this story :)