Spock was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire for the bathroom door to open onto his own room, his own spartan quarters on their own ship in their own universe. There, he knew the rules and boundaries. Knew what was expected of him and what could reasonably be allowed. Here, it was all vagueness and unsureness. He and Christopher had been comfortable together for years and he had never felt the need to proclaim that Christopher was his chosen mate in the old ways. A day here? A day here and Spock was making declarations in almost-forgotten High Vulcan.
He cleaned himself. There was nothing in the bathroom to speed his healing and he did not trust the mild painkillers available from the replicator. He would simply ignore the discomfort of a dry fucking. It would not be the first time, though it had been a very long time.
To remain hidden away was illogical. He kept his gaze averted however, as he exited the bathroom to offer a hot damp washcloth to his lover. He had tended to such tasks himself before, to their equal pleasure, but he needed more space than that - if Christopher was going to berate him, Spock could not take that while performing such an intimate service.
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Date: 2009-10-11 07:43 pm (UTC)He cleaned himself. There was nothing in the bathroom to speed his healing and he did not trust the mild painkillers available from the replicator. He would simply ignore the discomfort of a dry fucking. It would not be the first time, though it had been a very long time.
To remain hidden away was illogical. He kept his gaze averted however, as he exited the bathroom to offer a hot damp washcloth to his lover. He had tended to such tasks himself before, to their equal pleasure, but he needed more space than that - if Christopher was going to berate him, Spock could not take that while performing such an intimate service.