Tea & Vulcans

Captain Kirk sat at the sun-dappled café among the twists and turns of fickle breezes just outside the United Federation of Planets complex sipping a “house-special” guava-pomegranate margarita as a cover when he noticed Ambassador Sarek at a nearby table.  He felt shock and amusement roil through him and realized that he was transfixed by this young version of the ambassador who had likely just been posted to Earth, years from being Spock’s father, not yet even Amanda’s husband; a free agent on his new sojourn to Earth, likely full of wonder and contradiction to the wide-eyed, young Vulcan.

He had caught the young Sarek’s attention, who sat among a group of the younger diplomats as if he were in between classes at a university, exchanging the latest.  He looked relaxed and absorbed in all that went on around him, not yet the taut, eminent, and well-recognized target of the vidarazzi and the crazed. 

Sarek stared back at Kirk, curiosity apparent on his face.  He had a softer, more open expression, but the same well-trimmed, though somewhat thinner, physique and glittering eyes he remembered clearly upon their meeting on the journey to Babel.  His looks, charm and bearing reminding Kirk of the young Cary Grant he’d seen on board during the last “Big E Movie Night.”  Kirk was not supposed to run into him, but pinpointing events in the time portal was never perfectly accurate.  It turned out that he had almost a day to kill, and now an overwhelming desire to at least meet this interesting man at a more vulnerable and less-wizened age.

Kirk’s visit was merely an ‘audit’ to check random factors in this era to compare to previous recordings after an accidental transfer by a time portal tech of necessary supplies here instead of almost twenty years later.  A ‘stop and go’ which should have given him an interesting a 5-10 hour contemporary history lesson but would now stretch overnight and into the next day. 

Kirk sighed, but smiled at his newfound opportunity to satisfy his curiosity.  Ambassador Sarek was a difficult man to garner for a personal ‘study.’  Kirk had always been a history buff, and this man ‘created’ history, but his more personal side, what few knew about or understood, was what intrigued Kirk, and Sarek had a very private nature. 

The Vulcan looked so fresh-faced, appearing far younger than even Kirk himself – gleaming, wavy jet-black hair and a slightly thinner, more angular face than he remembered, reminding Kirk of the faces of male models used to sell expensive clothing and hair products on the vid.  The humor that the Vulcan held a tight rein on later in life danced in his eyes and touched on his lips with some frequency.

From the expressions and relaxed postures about him, he appeared to fit in among this diverse group, and the constant interactions showed he was well-received though Kirk knew he could not have been on Earth long at all.  Kirk remembered Spock saying that his father had always been quite popular, no matter the species he interacted with.  Kirk imagined it must have always been a frustration to Spock who had difficulty making friends, even socializing in general.

Kirk could see the confidence and an almost verve in Sarek.  It was so clear he wanted to experience this world and these people almost with the same thirst that must have brought his son into the stars twenty years later.  Sarek, by his sheer desire to experience all around him, made you want to approach and feel his enthusiasm.  He could see quickly what Amanda fell in love with even without the proof of his devotion to cause, integrity, and passion for justice.

He was amused to see that Sarek was drinking what appeared to be a Long Island Iced Tea by the signature umbrella and half slice of orange adorning it and had to wonder if the Vulcan realized the ingredients or at least the effects of sugar on his Vulcan system yet.  He hoped so.  Vulcans were an extremely curious species, so much so that it commonly got them into trouble.  But early on, there was likely little information to direct Vulcans, and few warnings to follow.  Sarek had been one of the first to interact so freely and over such lengthy periods.

He’d once heard from an old emergency room doctor friend that when a Vulcan arrived, it was usually for doing something he would’ve realized he shouldn’t have done, like consuming something warned about.  He remembered Amanda’s stories of her husband trying every type of non-meat food about him, and suffering often when too curious for his own good.  Kirk had to wonder if Sarek had been the inadvertent guinea pig for much of the research that spawned the long lists of warnings.

Most of the younger diplomats around their table left, leaving only Sarek and two other important-looking men in their mid and late thirties.  They both seemed fascinated with Sarek and the three talked on.  Kirk stood and moved to a closer table, too curious about the conversation, as well as possible hints for redirecting Sarek into his own company.

“So, how’s the wife taking the move to Earth, Sarek?” the older of the two asked.

Sarek looked taken aback momentarily, but recovered quickly with the slightest of smiles, almost as if the human had been dissembling, which Kirk thought curious.  “I am unmarried,” he said.  His strong Vulcan accent took Kirk by surprise, after hearing the ambassador speak so often in well-publicized speeches and at conferences, in the much-noted beautiful, rich baritone and so articulately in Federation Standard, he had somehow thought the ambassador always spoke that way, though with little thought, that would have made no sense since it wasn’t his native language.  Kirk found he had to concentrate a little harder to decipher exactly what Sarek was saying. 

The two other men exchanged long, meaningful glances and seemed to appraise Sarek more closely with tweaks of smiles themselves.

“I have never met an unmarried Vulcan,” the older man said.  “I had thought you folk were born that way – two by two, as they say.”

Sarek looked amused at that.  “I am the first un…married Vulcan my government has allowed to come to Earth.”  Kirk realized that Sarek had almost said ‘unbonded’, and remembered the expectation of T’Pau in those early years, in fact for long after, that as little information as possible be imparted about their home planet.  Kirk had learned later that Sarek had been vehemently against that policy, and that it had done exactly as Sarek argued it would - caused the Vulcans to be distanced and to appear as far more alien and untrustworthy in those early days.

The younger of the two men, who had yet to speak since Kirk had moved closer said, “Well you’ll certainly be popular,” as he obviously surveyed Sarek’s body and face, grinning. 

Sarek looked vaguely confused.

Kirk frowned at the implication.  Both men leaned closer to Sarek and smiled at each other.  A certain gleam in their eyes made clear their intentions.  To Kirk, at least.  Sarek looked oblivious of the sudden change in the mood at the table, almost lost in thought.

But Kirk realized that Sarek’s line of sight had been intercepted by a tight bottom and length of bare thigh under a very short skirt.  He noticed that Sarek seemed to drink in the view before he was caught by the beautiful woman, who laughed and smiled, obviously enjoying the ambassador’s indiscretion.  Sarek appeared to blush and suppress an obvious smile and cleared his throat.  She sat and twisted in the seat to offer up even more thigh and tossed her hair back before winking at Sarek.  Sarek pulled his attention from her, refocusing on his companions.

The older man of the two waved at a passing waiter.  “Another drink for the new ambassador over here!”  He turned back to Sarek.  “So how did one so young get this plum of a post?  What are you, twenty-five?”  Kirk had to wonder if the average Vulcan life-span of 250 years was even not yet common knowledge, and that Vulcans thereby aged much more slowly than humans. 

Sarek stiffened and his eyes glazed.  He looked as if he were having difficulty with the answer, if not the question, and instead downed the rest of the potent beverage.  Kirk struggled to remember why Sarek would have been so suddenly uncomfortable, and suddenly realized, with a sick feeling that he did know.

But the younger man piped up, saving Sarek some misery, “God, Jenner, how could you forget, the previous Vulcan ambassador was assassinated – Skon – that was his name.  Nice guy, but one of the muckety-mucks we could never get near.”

His heart leapt to his throat.  By their only vaguely sad reactions, Kirk realized that they had no idea that Skon was Sarek’s father.  Hell, he hadn’t known until he researched Spock’s family just after the bomb was dropped that the Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda, themselves, were Spock’s parents.

Kirk had always been aware of the masterful Vulcan Ambassador and his beautiful wife so full of grace always on the vid, had once seen them, in person, stepping from a limousine when Christmas shopping in downtown San Francisco when he was a young lieutenant.  But he had little reason before to watch vid reports of much beyond the general sweep of the political arena that might involve the ships he served on, and of course…

And here he blushed and felt guilty, to watch some of the outrageous hype about the couple and then family, gawking at the little Vulcan often carried and later led about by one the parents, shielded from the cameras as best they could before he seemed to disappear altogether.  Vulcans’ obsession for privacy, in general, led to a mystery of family connection where relations were concerned.  Spock’s family, in particular, seemed almost religiously devoted to such seclusion as to be almost clandestine in their daily life.  It fascinated Kirk that he had not even connected the little Vulcan being carried and tugged about on the vid with the lanky science officer who became his second-in-command and closest friend not long after.

Kirk had to wonder if it was because of their elite status as descendants of Surak, their influence on Vulcan as leading clan under the matriarch T’Pau, or Sarek’s and later Spock’s notoriety – Sarek for his tremendous accomplishment of cementing the Federation by drawing in so many important planets and solidifying it as a whole by instigating vast reforms that transferred power to the many races to allow fair representation and a multi-race perspective instead of the more biased human-only view that had begun to engender resentment and misunderstanding.  And then he also married a human, creating the first Vulcan/Human marriage, spawning fireworks of both romantic support and protest across the Federation.

And the notoriety for Spock, burgeoned for his accomplishments in Starfleet as the first Vulcan, as well as part of the best command team in the history of the Federation, but also because he had been the first Vulcan/Human hybrid.  It must have been a constant fight to feel some semblance of normalcy – sort of like growing up in a royal family.

It was Kirk’s years with Spock that taught him to understand and even to read other Vulcans better than most ever thought possible.  Other than the healers, Spock was actually harder to read than most others.  Spock’s traces of emotion were even slight compared to what Sarek presented.  Kirk was astonished, that he could read this Vulcan so easily, but then as he began to think back, Sarek had always seemed much more emotional than Spock, which seemed quite ironic with Spock’s insecurity at not being full Vulcan and Sarek’s disappointments throughout their lives at Spock’s not following the ‘Vulcan Way.’

Sarek had always seemed moody, with his much-noted volatile temper, his disappointment with Spock seeming to boil off of him in waves and his love for Amanda shining like a beacon whenever he looked upon her.

Sarek stared at the now-empty glass, the grief in his eyes apparent even to Kirk at the next table.  He doubted the other two men noticed, especially when they were honed in on Sarek’s body and the possibilities for such.

The waiter approached with another round, and the men snatched Sarek’s empty from his hand and slipped another into the frozen grasp.  His eyes had not strayed, even though the focus of his stare had been discarded and replaced.

“Drink up, my raven-haired prodigy.  Not many days cut short by administrative strikes!”  Sarek grimaced at the reminder of the loss of most of the workday; his seeming minimal impact lessoned even more.  He had arrived that morning to find no support staff and had decided he could manage, until he was asked to leave the building as even the environmental and security staffs were leaving for the day to prompt the Federation to improve the benefits package up for renewal.  Sarek thought it illogical that all sides could not simply discuss the terms and compromise without such unnecessary sabotage creating inefficiency.

Sarek downed much of the glass, as requested, with hardly a thought at such compliance to something so unnecessary.  They had come here for refreshment, but the caffeine in what must be non-herbal tea was dehydrating him it seemed, almost to the point of dizziness.  He was finding his controls faltering also, though he had meditated that morning, even eaten a meal just the night before.  He was having difficulty suppressing the grief at his father’s unnecessary death that seemed so in line with this lost day, also so unnecessary.  How would he survive so much pointless waste?  How did humans bear such day to day?

He was beginning to feel despair edging into his conscious thought, imagining what his father would have said, what T’Pau might say should he accomplish little due to such inefficiency.  This human government was incomprehensible.  For every small accomplishment, he met with several worse failures.  His father had once said that the important element was connecting to your compatriots, aligning for more power.  That in order to connect and align, one had to understand by close contact.  He almost smiled at that.  If his father could see him now.

He wondered if his father sought diversion and escape as recreation, but some of the elder human diplomats had made clear that to only work would alienate him from the others, that he had to rest and recreate, especially with others he needed to get to know.  It seemed only logical.  But he found other needs began to intrude, that work, as the diplomat had said would happen, had fallen away as a priority.  His mind had sought another refuge.  And, since all else seemed to be ineffectual at this time anyway, perhaps this avenue might help to allow him some alleviation of his distress…

Kirk wondered if Sarek drank the Long Island Iced Tea down so abruptly to avoid the discussion that had so easily and unpredictably sliced him without thought or intent.  The men talked on, including Sarek in the conversation by gesture and looks but barely noticing his sudden silence and distance.

Kirk couldn’t help but notice their new interest in Sarek since he had mentioned his marital status, and their plying him with drinks and innuendo which he doubted Sarek even noticed.  He soon looked glassy-eyed and the other two men seemed too aware of his every move and the effect of the drinks on him.  They were already hailing the waiter for another drink for Sarek though he was barely halfway through at least his second.  Who knows how many he had had before Kirk arrived.

Kirk was sure they would hail for another, and another, if necessary, to get what they wanted of Sarek.  It brought to mind the possibility that Sarek was a virgin, in fact perhaps was supposed to be for his first marriage, if he could be completely naïve in that regard – the equivalent of some innocent, sheltered and inexperienced 16-year-old girl allowed into a bar with a fake ID for the first time, and the audience of much older and more experienced males ready to indoctrinate her to reality in the back seat of their aircars.

Kirk stepped away and circled around, appearing to run up, out of breath.  “Ambassador Sarek?  Sir, I’ve a message from the president.”  He looked officious and ignored the frowns of the other two.  Sarek looked vaguely confused and stared at Kirk.  Kirk was sure Sarek knew something Kirk couldn’t even guess at that would blow his cover so he only gave the Vulcan an imploring stare and tilted his head toward an empty table further away. 

The men glared at Kirk suspiciously.  “Don’t be too long,” the older said casually.  “That one’s been around the block a few times.”  In so many ways that was ironic, but none of which he could make clear to them.  Besides, he wasn’t any older than those two, as a military man, he just had more mileage on ‘rough terrain’ though likely in better shape!

Sarek seemed to understand that it was at least part ruse, but appeared to play along, stepping away from the two men who eyed Kirk with obvious irritation.  Kirk noticed they watched Sarek’s retreating form hungrily and it tended to remind Kirk of just how young and possibly naïve Sarek was, at least with humans.  He vowed to take another look at this more vulnerable, and yes, very attractive young Vulcan, before slamming the door on what might be done about it, at least for curiosity’s sake.  He found his mind trying to decide if this Vulcan’s youthful inexperience and naïveté now or his older version’s edge, power and streaks of gray were more appealing…it was difficult to say, but he had to admit that knowing the imposing male he would become made this youthful Sarek even sexier.

He hastily reoriented his ever-present tendency at sexual predation.  This was Spock’s father, after all.  Would be rather…as soon as he got around to the young, pretty little Amanda he’d seen holos of at Spock’s home, he grinned lewdly for a stolen moment.  But, on Sarek, such naiveté was temptingly inviting, as if suddenly the door had swung wide open for an appetizer at least.

Kirk shook the idea from his head.  It was just that this man would be so imposing when next they met, so in control and unapproachable that made the possibility so intriguing, Kirk rationalized.  Or perhaps it was that they were both so far from where they would be then, in the future, that made it seem less risky, less immoral or unethical to take advantage of the opportunity.

He drew the youthful ambassador to a table out of earshot where they sat.  Kirk noticed that Sarek bumped into the back of the chair, along with his somewhat graceless movements.  No doubt the drinks was starting to catch up with him.  Sarek looked curious and a little suspicious himself, but there was something else Kirk couldn’t identify in how Sarek appraised him.  Kirk decided on being mostly honest.  “I don’t have a message from the president.”

Sarek’s expression didn’t change, “That was quite evident.  You failed to follow protocol for such.  I am surprised my…acquaintances…didn’t object to your assertion.”  He did not expand on this, to Kirk’s irritation.  “Perhaps they think you know me better than you do and require confirmation before they proceed,” Sarek mused.

Kirk was distracted by having to decipher through Sarek’s still strong Vulcan accent as well as his less stern, almost casual, manner and didn’t follow the half of that, but smiled charmingly as he was in the habit of doing to get past the rough spots and redirect others, before he realized who he was trying to distract.  Surprisingly, it worked even on Sarek, as Sarek’s slightly suspicious glint softened and his lips quirked.  Kirk ignored the expression on Sarek that might be construed as invitation.  Surely he was imagining it.  “Sir…”  He was not quite sure how to begin. 

Sarek waited expectantly, but his eyes glimmered with amusement.  He shifted his chair closer to Kirk, closer than Kirk had ever been to Sarek and realized he could smell the Vulcan’s very slight, pleasant spicy scent with the slightest touch of musk, see the exact shade of maple brown?...no they were actually a dark forest green…funny he had never noticed they weren’t brown, had assumed, in fact, that all Vulcan’s had brown eyes.  Those full lips appeared very soft before he caught himself and cleared those bizarre thoughts from his head.

Captain James Tiberius Kirk was a rampant heterosexual, for God’s sake!  While he recognized Sarek was attractive, very attractive in fact, he never imagined he might be attracted to him sexually.  The idea of seduction and his possible success, should the ambassador have any such leanings, had been an amusement, a momentary power play.  The previous unapproachable man he remembered contrasted with the same Vulcan’s now sudden vulnerability had teased Kirk with forbidden fruit.

But something about Sarek himself was affecting Kirk.  It almost seemed as if the Vulcan was oozing pheromones and teasing Kirk with his movements and expressions.  And why was he sitting so close that even Kirk was tempted to back up, or to reach for that face, that thigh.  He felt his breathing accelerate and realized that Sarek was staring at him.  Jesus, that stare warmed him where no man’s had before.

“Have I wandered into what is known as a ‘pick-up joint’?  Sarek asked.

Kirk laughed at that, so maybe he wasn't so naïve.  “So you knew what they were up to all along?”

“I am a touch telepath.  They made clear their intentions, if not by their frequent touches, then by their lustful thoughts and images transferred that were difficult to ignore.  It acted as an interesting study of Human sexual practices, as well as an inventory of their expectations and preferences.  Very intriguing.”

Kirk glanced back, a little befuddled by Sarek’s ease at discussing the topic of sex with a complete stranger.  The two men were watching Sarek like hawks watching a confused mouse for which direction it might scamper.  It was hard to imagine the Sarek he knew as vulnerable in any way, but he was as yet ignorant and inexperienced of so much of Earth.  Did sexually frustrated Vulcan males prey on the young, naïve, and vulnerable as Human males too often did?  He doubted it.

Sarek caught Kirk’s eye with an unwavering stare and a slight smile that surprised him.  Was Sarek coming on to him?  He swallowed and thought how bizarre his next meeting with the Vulcan ambassador of his time would be.  “You did not merely interrupt to enlighten me to what was clear when the older man put his hand upon my thigh?  If so, the other table is starting to sound more…appetizing.”

Kirk’s eyebrows rose and his mind fogged at the concept of Sarek involving himself with these men, even after it was clear what they wanted of him – likely with a mental video of their fantasy liaison they had no idea Sarek picked up on.  It reminded him of something he'd heard McCoy say, that full Vulcans became sexually mature sometime near their early 60’s, exactly about Sarek’s age now, he realized.  He wondered if it came on with a bang as a young human male’s did, when almost all thought turned to sex.

Sarek cocked his head so like Spock so often did that it threw Kirk momentarily and he had to stifle a grin.  Sarek cocked an eyebrow like Spock now.  Kirk had to stomp on his foot to avoid the levity that would dampen his warning.

Sarek continued, “From the surprise apparent on your face I would presume you did not approach me with a similar intent?”  He appeared disappointed and obviously wasn’t concerned that Kirk would notice.  Perhaps he was hoping that Kirk would divest him of his concern and offer the same sport as the others were hoping for.  He noticed Sarek’s thigh shift closer, his arms now rested on the table – closer to Kirk.  He wanted Kirk to touch him, he realized as his heart started to pump more noticeably in his chest.  Sarek hoped for the same x-rated inventory of Kirk’s fantasy liaison with him, perhaps was hinting that he was quite interested in some mutually-beneficial activities.

Kirk’s mouth dropped open at that.  “I had not thought that far,” he admitted, realizing that the honesty was at least keeping Sarek present and talking.  But now his thoughts were ferociously considering the possibility.  Unbidden images of unfastening Sarek’s pants, imaging Sarek’s free and wanton expression as he came…

Kirk blushed furiously at how inappropriate he was being.  Is that what Sarek wanted -- to be “picked up” by Kirk.  Kirk couldn’t help but start to imagine what that might feel like.  Those soft, full lips on his, that wavy, thick hair between his fingers, that muscular body…

He noticed Sarek’s eyes flick over to the other table, registering that he still had their attention.  Kirk imagined Sarek was running out of patience.  Kirk remembered his own similar state when young and the bar was sounding last call.  Could it be that Sarek was frustrated and would entertain the two men’s lustful fantasies?  Surely not!  And how safe would that be with his inexperience and naiveté in such matters?

He imagined the young and inebriated ambassador being assaulted by the two men because Kirk gave him the benefit of the doubt, and shivered.  At the same time, his own lustful thoughts were erupting even as he tried to quell them with reason and prudence.  This young Sarek was confused and misguided.  He should be home sleeping off the alcohol and sugars, he decided, shaking off the lustful detour his mind fought to follow.  Kirk cleared his throat and filed away his previous inappropriate thoughts.  “I mean, you are attractive, but I was more concerned with your…”

“Naiveté?”  Sarek offered.  “Granted, I am young, 60.124 Earth years, and I have a lot to learn as yet as I am new to this world, but I think I can protect myself against two human males.”  He still looked amused at Kirk’s attempt to ‘protect his honor’.  Sarek shifted in his chair and knocked over the salt dispenser.  He stared at it as if it had done a dance after.  He looked at Kirk, his arrogance evaporated suddenly and he looked rather sweetly chagrinned.

Kirk looked at him appraisingly.  “What did you think you were drinking, sir?”

Sarek righted the saltshaker.  Kirk saw his mind working on his newfound clumsiness.  He looked almost embarrassed as he looked up.  “I would assume that it was not tea then, though it looked and tasted much like your non-herbal variety?”

Kirk smiled.  “An old trick,” he said.  “Usually used on young, pretty girls to get them into bed.  It's Long Island Iced Tea – so named because it tastes like tea.”

“I was a little concerned at the sweetness, but had determined that there was not enough sugar to cause me to be inebriated…”

“That concoction has several ingredients, all either sweet or alcoholic.  Four different alcohols combine to taste like tea and, of course, break down into sugars.”

“Indeed,” Sarek said, but his eyes closed and he leaned back into the chair rather abruptly, Kirk realized, to keep his balance.  “I am starting to understand why you interrupted.  Very perceptive and honorable of you, sir.  I am in your debt, but am not quite sure that I can escape this without incident.”  He gripped the table.

“My aircar is close by.  We should hurry, it will only get worse.”

Sarek looked concerned suddenly.  “I do not know you, sir.  I should call my guards, my driver.”  He swayed slightly then looked up and said something in Vulcan that sounded like a curse.

Kirk looked up at what Sarek had spied to see the then Federation president himself stepping toward the café patio.  “We should go NOW," Kirk said.  "Touch my hand – you will sense I mean you no harm.” He had practiced his shielding; hopefully it was good enough to hide his identity and mission.

“The offer of such is enough to convince me, under the circumstances,” Sarek said.  “Let us go.”

Kirk stood close and grabbed Sarek once as he stumbled then veered him toward the parking lot.  He felt some concern of Sarek’s reading what he would choose to withhold in his thoughts, especially the time travel, but realized Sarek was having enough trouble merely navigating toward the parking lot without an inelegant face plant in full view of the diners and Federation president.  He would also be shielding as best he could when the Captain touched him.  No sooner had they approached Kirk’s aircar when familiar voices rose behind them.  They turned to find the two lustful men had followed them.

“Sarek?”  The older said.  “Do you know this man?”  The other man walked around so they surrounded them.  Kirk had to wonder if they really were worried about Sarek, or their lusted-after quarry, but then realized that if Kirk’s mission had been something more sinister, that they had made the Vulcan ambassador vulnerable in the first place and not long after the previous had been assassinated.  They had to at least feel guilty, if not possibly liable, for what could happen to him in his state.

Kirk glared at them.  “I was on staff for his father – Ambassador Skon.  I think he’s safer with me.”

Both blanched at that and seemed to be recalling what they had said and done earlier and how to backstep to some sense of normalcy as Kirk all but shoved Sarek into the aircar, jumped in and took off.

Sarek looked positively pummeled by the sugars and alcohols now and stared at Kirk momentarily before he appeared to pass out and lulled against the seat braces that tightened about him to keep him from falling.  Kirk looked at his chest in fear, ready to administer CPR and race for a hospital, but he could feel Sarek’s breaths as he held up a hand to his face.  He looked in the rear view cam – no one was following.  Thankfully, those men had felt bad enough for their thoughtless words and actions and were too befuddled for quick action.  He was sure that there could be follow-up, however, and he hoped Sarek would be aware enough then to cover for Kirk.

They were only minutes from the embassy when Kirk pulled over and attempted to rouse Sarek.  “Sir, we almost have you home, but you need to be looking somewhat conscious if you don’t want to raise any suspicion.”

Sarek jerked in the seat startled.  “Forgive me -- I fell asleep.”

“No problem.  Let’s just get you inside and I can get out of your hair.” 

“Get out of my…”  The ambassador looked sincerely confused as opposed to his feigned confusion Kirk found he enjoyed often later in life with human idioms.  The approach of the gate awakened him more fully as he straightened in the seat and afforded his usual air of confidence and control.  They slowed as the guards stepped toward the window.  They stared at Kirk who looked at Sarek.  Once the guards saw Sarek they bowed and opened the gate.

Sarek pointed to the left.  “Drive around to the back.  There is a private entrance.”  Kirk tried not to drive straight to where he knew it would be, having been there before, but that would not be for several decades yet and he did not want to make this young Sarek suspicious.  Sarek directed him to the far lot near the private entrance.  Kirk turned off the engine and stepped around to help Sarek out.  He had pushed himself out of the seat only to overcompensate and hurtle out so that Kirk had to catch him.  Sarek tried to push from what must have been physically overwhelming for the young Vulcan, but then fell against the car again.

“My balance seems to be worsening,” Sarek said, “…unless this is one of your earthquakes.”

Kirk smiled.  “No, just you.  You will feel that way for an hour or two, likely.”  He slipped his arm under Sarek’s, feeling the heat of the Vulcan’s body while trying to ignore his own body’s interest in unveiling and reveling in the source of that heat.

They headed for that back corner door Kirk remembered led to a direct elevator to the master bedroom.  There would have been meager protection for Sarek had he brought those men to his home like this.  In his state, he would have been at their complete disposal and mercy for the evening, likely barely aware, if at all, of what transpired.  He felt his heart rate quicken at the thought, unsure if it were fear for Sarek, or excitement.  He hoped the former.  Rape fantasies were merely that – fantasy.  The real thing was far from such innocent imaginings.  But Sarek did seem more concerned with privacy and discretion than his safety, which Kirk realized had been something he had noticed of this Vulcan on other occasions.

He could not help but lean into the tipsy Vulcan and relish the warm body that seemed so dependant on his hold.  He shook the thoughts from him in irritation.  It felt savage to be attracted to such vulnerability, as if it were a battle and he saw a flaw in a defense he might not otherwise breach.  But it was simply the natural order of sex and conquest to ensure the species, wired into him as a male.  From the little he knew of Vulcans and their war-like past, he was sure they felt the same need to parry and pounce ingrained in them.  Why else would Sarek feel the need to act so dominant and possessive over Amanda, even after forty years of marriage and the way she watched him with such adoration and love?

He could feel Sarek’s breaths warm his ear, then his neck, unsure if Sarek meant to loll about Kirk’s shoulder so that his breaths would be so teasingly sensual.  Sarek stumbled and his hand brushed Kirk’s groin before grasping his waistband momentarily, close enough that Kirk felt his manhood take notice and tighten into a noticeable erection.

He could not help but eye the half-awake Vulcan he was helping to bed, and lick his lips at the view.  Though fully clothed, Sarek’s pants fit tight enough to make out well-honed, muscled thighs.  His shirt pulled across his chest as he struggled to keep on his feet with much leaning on Kirk.  The broad chest he remembered, but with such close inspection, he could see its broadness embroidered underneath by muscle and sinew, all wrapped in what appeared to be softer skin than he would’ve imagined.

He helped Sarek through the door into the close-quartered elevator and braced him against the wall as Sarek’s eyes opened and his eyes took on a gleam and his lips clearly smiled.  Kirk felt the hardened pip through Sarek’s shirt before noticing how tightly the Vulcan’s pants were fitting and how-well they now outlined his groin.  He turned from the view as he noticed Sarek’s almost impish expression.  He slipped his arm under Sarek’s again, readying to help him through the bedroom.  Surely he wasn’t that greedy that he could change teams for a nice specimen dumped in his lap, or could it be the additional strain of his celibacy over the last several days?

They stepped directly into the master bedroom, in the low light Vulcans could easily see by, and walked directly to the bed nearly collapsing upon it.  Kirk felt Sarek stumble again, as if the floor was tilting under only him and Kirk tightened his grip on the broad chest only to realize the Vulcan had turned facing Kirk and Kirk could feel the obvious bulge of a serious erection on the ambassador as it pressed into his stomach.

“This is not what you want?”  Sarek said softly near Kirk’s ear.

Kirk felt his own erection now at the mere thought of enjoying this man whom he found so imposing in the older version.  He'd had only a few male lovers and only early in his life, but the memory of meeting the ambassador over forty years from now on the journey to Babel – the imposing man that he had difficulty curtailing – and this young version with little clue and a major hard-on could not help but excite Kirk.  But there was one major issue…  “You’re drunk, sir.”

Sarek stared back, seemingly sobered by the accusation.  “My mobility may be impaired but my thought processes are clear.  I assure you that I can function well this way, especially if horizontal, thereby unimpeded by my lack of balance.  Most…positions…should be achievable with little effort.”

Kirk tried to ignore the so-obvious reference to sexual acts.  Sarek leaned again so Kirk could not loosen his grip, his breaths teasing his ear.  He felt a tongue flick about his neck.  “You humans smell and taste of salt.  It is quite pleasant.”

‘Taste?’ He couldn’t help but wonder how Sarek had tasted others and his mind started a foray into the tantalizing idea of Sarek’s sexual experimentation with humans.  He attempted to shift his body sideways so Sarek didn’t feel his interest burgeoning in his groin.

Sarek’s eyebrow rose at Kirk’s efforts.  “It is too late to hide your arousal,” he said, with glittering eyes.  “Perhaps you would have some idea of where you might introduce that.”

“Perhaps you should try to sleep off those drinks,” Kirk said, attempting a fatherly tone.

With that Sarek swayed and they both almost fell over.  Kirk leaned him onto the bed.

“Would you at least do me the favor of relieving me of my clothing?” Sarek asked.  “My coordination might make that a difficult task and it would not do to have anyone discover me asleep in them.”

Kirk realized the logic of the request even as he sighed at the temptation that might come of it.  He imagined that Sarek had likely come to both conclusions far sooner and was contemplating several moves ahead of Kirk’s.  He also remembered that this man had taught Spock how to play chess and that Kirk lost half the games to the son even with his illogical, wild moves that caused the Vulcan to regularly re-strategize.  This elder Vulcan still had decades on Spock and likely as much experience with humans, perhaps more, with his social, extraverted personality and complete lack of modesty.

“I could at least afford you a guest room should you not want to spend the entire night in my bed.  There is a well-stocked kitchen and full bar down the hall.”

Kirk almost started to counter the presumptuous nature of Sarek’s comment that he would spend any time in his bed, but realized it was a clever ploy to bring up the discussion of sex again.  Kirk smiled; Sarek was already an accomplished negotiator even in these first months on Earth.

He wrestled with Sarek’s clothes, trying not to notice the Vulcan’s full erection and his sensitivity to Kirk’s touch.  He couldn’t help but notice the ripple of the well-toned chest as he relieved Sarek of his shirt, nor the well-toned thighs below the ample bulge in his wisp of an undergarment he studiously attempted to avoid.

Sarek relieved himself of this wisp Kirk had left on with a sureness that belied his excuse for Kirk to help him with his other clothes.  Kirk couldn’t help but be distracted by the large penis that stood stiff and waiting.  “Do you not enjoy sexual relations, or is it that I am Vulcan and you are uncomfortable with that aspect?”

Kirk smiled.  “So, I must either not enjoy sex or Vulcans?”

“That would appear to be the case; I could not be any more amenable to…or prepared for, your desires.”  Sarek seemed to be enjoying Kirk’s discomfort, likely hoping it was partly indecision.

Kirk felt his erection protesting its constraint at that.  He could not help but stare at this young Vulcan who had the temerity to tease him about sex while lying naked with a full erection in front of him, and realized his eyes were scanning the Vulcan’s beautiful, sculpted body, stopping at the gorgeous cock, his thoughts swirling at the thought of a quick, rambunctious fuck and the possible consequences.  Then his mind wandered to the fact he had learned that, being Vulcan, Sarek could likely fuck all night long and Kirk licked his lips at the thought of that.

He dearly would have liked the memory of Sarek moaning and crying out.  Could his Vulcan control keep him from even allowing Kirk from hearing his orgasm?  He thought perhaps, if not this Vulcan, he might pursue this curious question with another, though he realized that, like all Humans, all Vulcans would be different.  He felt the momentary hot resentment that he couldn’t simply pursue what they definitely both wanted and would most certainly enjoy.

Kirk had always thought the power and obvious influence of the ambassador had ignited that ‘hot’ aspect to him that caught so many eyes and imaginations, but he started to wonder if it was just the confidence, bravado, and an almost teasing style that was so sexy.  Kirk had heard what he had thought were sexual innuendos often from the ambassador but had not realized how choreographed and purposeful they had been.  Sarek had become a proficient seducer early on, it appeared, and had grafted it into both his private and professional life.

He had always wondered why so many referred to Ambassador Sarek as ‘charming’ and realized that the ambassador must use his sexuality and looks as tools in his work.  It would have only been logical to use what tools he had, wouldn’t it?  It begged the question of what else Sarek might have used…  It would be quite ethnocentric of Kirk to question such, he realized, as Vulcan values might be completely different, and who was to argue against using anything to save lives and ensure peace throughout the galaxy.  The needs of the many, after all…  And if it didn’t bother a conservative and honorable man like Sarek, who should judge such a use of ‘skills and attributes one was born with’.  Kirk smiled at this insight.

Sarek reached down and started to tease himself, stroking his hand up and down his penis.  He spread his legs and slipped his other hand between his legs and cupped and fondled his weighty balls.  His eyes, glittering with humor and edged with lust, never left Kirk’s face.  Kirk could not stop watching.

Sarek closed his eyes as his legs parted further.  A soft moan slipped out, answering one of Kirk’s questions.  Perhaps Sarek could control such and he was simply lessoning his control to further entice Kirk to play?  Either way, it was starting to work, unfortunately.  Kirk swallowed and realized he needed to leave.  But realizations can be diluted too easily by temptation as well as fascination with a show he would never have the chance to view again, except per chance by accident and without Sarek’s knowledge, if the Vulcan were to ever masturbate where he might be seen.  Highly doubtful.

Kirk felt his erection harden completely at watching Sarek pleasure himself and realized a man who should have not had the experience to set such a trap had ensnared him quite competently.  He should have realized that Sarek would be a fast learner.

Sarek slipped his thumb to the head and started circling it and arched his neck as precum seeped out over the double ridge Kirk had only heard about until now, except for very brief flashes of Spock’s nudity.  Sarek’s thumb spread it glistening over the spongy surface as his mouth opened slightly to suck at the air.  Sarek’s eyes fastened back on Kirk’s.  “Have you ever tasted a Vulcan?”

Kirk swallowed and cleared his throat.  He so wanted to slip between Sarek’s thighs and lower his mouth onto that beautiful penis.  To slip his hands under those buttocks and squeeze them.  To shove his finger inside his ass as he sucked the Vulcan to orgasm, hear him come, and then to press his legs back and…  Kirk looked away.

“What harm is there in watching, at least?” Sarek asked huskily.

Kirk cleared his throat, intent on excusing himself, but the words didn’t come.  He found his eyes back on Sarek whose eyes had closed.  His hips began to thrust with his strokes; his chest to swell with deeper breaths.  Another moan slipped out.

Sarek looked back at Kirk with half-lidded eyes.  “We could try whatever you like.  No one would ever have to know.”   He moaned again and shivered.  “Could you just take off your clothes?  I will not touch you if you do not wish me to.  I will imagine your cool lips surrounding me, your tongue darting about tasting what comes…”  Sarek’s knees pulled up as he roughly grasped his balls, his breaths coming harder.  “Please, just touch yourself.”

Kirk found himself considering the possibility.  So what if they both masturbated in the presence of the other?  Who would really ever know?  It wasn’t like he was taking advantage of the inebriated Vulcan.  He found his hands unclasping his pants.  He felt them puddle at his ankles.  He relieved himself of his briefs and felt the Vulcan’s dark eyes fasten on his erection.

“I would cooperate in any way you would like, to relieve your arousal,” Sarek said, his breathing ragged now.  “I don’t know your name…”

Kirk swallowed at the all-inclusive offer and, at the same time, loathed the idea of Sarek having any more information to later remember.  “Gary,” he said.  Gary Mitchell would have fucked the ambassador six ways from Sunday in a heartbeat, Kirk realized and smiled.  He probably would have reminded the ambassador later on the way to Babel and tried to reconnect behind Amanda’s back, perhaps with the hint of blackmail.  Kirk shook his head imagining Sarek’s shock, and complete befuddlement, at the audacity.

Sarek had increased his tempo as he watched Kirk pulling off the last of his clothes.  The Vulcan’s body was tensing as he grew close.  Though he tried, Kirk could not pull his eyes from the usually so-dignified ambassador writhing on the exquisite bedding as he pumped himself.  “Have you ever watched a Vulcan come, Gary?”  Sarek’s voice was deep, breathy, almost strangled.  His back, then neck, arched tightly as he clutched at, then gripped, the covers with his free hand.

“No,” Kirk said; his voice cracked but he didn’t care.  This was probably the most erotic sight he'd ever seen, and that was saying something.  He'd heard there were so-called Vulcan prostitutes – male and female – and he-d looked but never found one.  He had always been curious to have a Vulcan, but never imagined he’d have the offer from this of all Vulcans.  He would have been less flabbergasted if Spock had offered himself to Kirk.

He stepped closer, breathing hard himself, as Sarek shuddered, moaned, then cried out softly once, twice, then a third time, all the while writhing on the bed as his fully engorged penis spewed semen across his belly and thighs before he lay, still shuddering, with his eyes closed, almost gulping at the air.  Kirk couldn’t help but notice that Sarek’s erection did not dissipate in the least, was still fully ready for anything Kirk might imagine to do with him.

Sarek crimped his eyes shut suddenly.  “The bed appears to be circumnavigating on its own.  Would you mind bringing me a damp towel?”

Kirk stared at the flushed, mussed Vulcan who had a vague look of satisfaction on his face, though he still watched Kirk hungrily as he held his pants up and went to retrieve the towel from the huge, beautiful bathroom attached to the master bedroom.  He was understanding clearly now why Amanda almost always had a smile on her face and grinned, feeling a little jealous.  He had known too many men and women who had desired a hot Vulcan in their bed.  If they could only imagine. 

Yet they had, imagined correctly that is.  Sarek had always seemed to simmer with heat.  Kirk hadn’t understood why, but now realized that the passion that ruled their world and caused so much death for thousands of years was only allowed escape in one way now… he began to see clearly also that the look he saw in Sarek’s eyes so often when he saw Amanda and trouble deciphering was adoration, love and a healthy dose of lust and he understood why it made many blush when they saw it.

“Perhaps you’d like a few drinks, Gary, to ease your tension.  There’s brandy and scotch directly behind you.”  Sarek continued to stare at Kirk’s body.  “I would like to see you gain release yourself…if you won’t join with me that is.”  Amusement and lust danced in the ambassador’s eyes.

Kirk eyed the liquor in its winking crystal decanters.  They taunted him with their easy excuse to imbibe and be done with all of the conscientious dilemmas.  To climb upon that big, beautiful bed, upon that ambassador, upon that engorged cock…and as suddenly it came to him, the answer he had been too distracted to see.  It almost made him laugh at his fool-hardy nature and thoughtlessness.

He could not enjoy the ambassador other than he had.  He felt so foolish.  The moment he lost himself in the ecstasy, as soon as the young ambassador touched his thoughts, whether accidentally or purposefully, through intoxication or lustful relaxation of his shields, the ambassador would know something far more serious was at hand, that Kirk was not exactly who he seemed and both would be plunged into such serious ramifications as he couldn’t even imagine.

He almost smiled; if anyone had been naïve, it had been him.  He would perhaps watch the ambassador until he fell asleep, though he couldn’t help his enjoying of that, but he would leave him safer and unaware of Kirk’s ‘alien’ presence in this timeline.  He would leave Sarek to the last of his experimenting, though with more forethought and undoubtedly more savvy and appreciation of the agendas of these ‘mere’ humans, and thereby safer, to meet Amanda and fall into adoration, love and lust.  To create and raise his closest friend, that other Vulcan that he missed so already, and would soon see again.

He turned back to continue the battle of lustful wills, to notice the ambassador asleep.

The End