Spock rather surprised himself with those words, his own actions. But somehow, even though he hadn’t even been touching Jim at the time, he’d known what Jim’s thoughts were. And he relished in them. In the very thought that this human was as attracted to him as Spock was to him.

He supposed he should be alarmed by this overwhelming attraction, but he found he could not be, illogical though it might be.

“Okay,” Jim whispered, his face flushed a becoming pink. “Uh. You-you have the-the stuff?”

Spock’s mind blanked. “The stuff?”

Jim licked his lips. “Lubricant. You know for-uh-penetration.”

Spock blinked. Then nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I realize. But no, I do not. I hadn’t thought…it was not planned.”

Jim laughed then. “Yeah, not by me either. Well, that sorta sucks.”

“We could go out and attempt to acquire it.”

“Sure.” Jim bit his lip. “Or we could, um, maybe try something else.”

“Something else?”

Jim put his hand on Spock’s neck and drew him forward for a kiss that Spock eagerly reciprocated. For a time, they merely kissed, though it was hardly mere to Spock, then sort of just breathed in each other.

Finally, Jim looked into Spock’s eyes, his gaze a saturated blue he had never experienced on Vulcan or perhaps anywhere, dropped his voice to a bare whisper and said, “Have you heard of a sixty-nine?”

And right there his pulse leaped. Though inexperienced himself, Spock was not naïve, and he knew sexual terms and slang quite well.

He stared into those eyes. Swallowed hard.

“Yes, I am familiar.” Jim smiled, it was wolfish and sweet at the same time. He flicked his head toward Spock’s bed. “Shall we?”