[ With no express permission, Spock keeps his shields up; it is no hardship, no struggle because it is how he lives - among humans and Vulcans alike, he maintains mental shields that allow him to keep his composure and allow him to interact with little issue. He projects no feelings, picks up very little about other people. His telepathy is something central, but also near sacred for Spock: to use it against someone's volition would be anathema. It makes staying out of Nyota's head simple, makes it so he never even considers using his telepathy for something nefarious against her.
It is a privilege to know her mind, one he does not intend to forsake.
Spock drops his fingers from hers to wrap his arms around her waist, hands settling low on her hips so he can pull her in close. Spock is always in control - he can count the number of times he has lost control on one hand and each of them is a deep shame - and does not feel anxiety or displeasure from traveling in close quarters with strangers, does not find it difficult to adjust to new places. But he finds it gratifying to return to his own apartment and take in familiar sights. He has no reason to prefer his own bed, but sleeping in it shall be advantageous to his physical condition. His nose is sensitive, but he has adjusted to the unique smells produced by cities and space docks and a thousand milling individuals, so he has no reason to lower his head to Nyota's shoulder and press his nose against the juncture of her neck and breathe in the scents unique to her.
But he does, closing his eyes as he allows himself a moment to simply accept the pleasure it brings him. ]
[It is a privilege, given to him out of love and respect, and though it is not one he takes advantage of, it doesn't mean Nyota hides anything in her mind from him. What she thinks she says, never hesitating to tell Spock how she feels for him, what his presence in her life means, and what she desires most from him in and out of the bedroom. He knows she's missed him because she's told him. He knows that after they've finishing taking their time greeting each other in their own particular way, she wants to move things along into the bedroom and show him other ways of welcoming him home.
Though she made sure to eschew any strong fragrances, Nyota still rubbed her usual cocoa butter across her fresh from the shower skin, giving it not just a golden sheen, but a mild inoffensive scent. She's fully aware of what Spock is doing and she is not only amused, but honored. For a man whose nose can bring him all sorts of suffering, to take in her scent after being apart for so long, she can't help but tip her head back for him to take all he needs, all he wants.]
[ Spock has always been an unusually strong telepath, his skills exceeding most of his peers, but he has always been careful to maintain control, and if his head was slightly empty, slightly lonely, he never noticed. His life was dominated by his parents and his schooling until Starfleet, and then it was dominated by Starfleet and the way he rose through the ranks. It was not until Nyota that he realized his head, his life was what most individuals would deem "lonely," and then he had an exceptional individual to fill in any holes.
The fact that she is willing to talk to him and work out any issues that might arise because of their differing cultural histories means their relationship is even stronger than relying on the need to guess or read her emotions. Returning home to her is gratifying, because Nyota understands him in ways very few others even attempt.
Beneath the smell of the cocoa butter - a smell he has come to associate with his girlfriend, by the point - he can smell her own scent, and when she tips her head back, exposing more of her neck, he drags his nose, and his lips, up the column of her throat. He does not need to attempt to smell or read her arousal, because he knows she desires him, just as he desires her, knows that this will progress into their bedroom, all without saying much.
He drags his hands up her back and back down before releasing her, reaching for her hand again so he can lead her into the room. ]
[Maybe it's her passion for languages, and in turn the cultures they stem from, that drew her to him. After all, aside from not being fully human and her former instrctor, his personality is the complete opposite of hers. While his face remains stoic except for the rare times she's seen a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, Nyota is quick to grin, even quicker to lay a comforting hand on someone's shoulder in their emotional time of need. She is the sun, a bright and warm shining ray of light, and he is the moon, sometimes considered cold but still instrumental at times.
But opposites certainly attract and that is indeed why they work so well, regardless of the friction sometimes caused by their differences. She has experience to look back on, old lovers to think of and consider what she needs and wants the most out of her relationship with Spock. Nyota knows she has the upper hand here with that, but she never feels like it's something to be wielded as a weapon. No, instead, she brings it out gently, giving it to him so he can understand where she has been and where she's going and for him to show her what he has (or doesn't in this case) in exchange.
Nyota is reluctant to let go of her hold on him, fingers curled and gripped in the folds of his shirt. She sighs softly with a little hum as she feels his cool lips skate across her warmer skin, but then whines almost inaudibly when Spock pulls back. Certainly she could stand to stay here in the middle of his living room and hold him a little longer, but once Nyota feels his hand in hers, her reluctance fades away and is replaced with a small knowing smile as she follows him down the hall. Yes, the next step is definitely a better option than just standing here. She won't even try to argue against it.]
[ There is something bright about Nyota, warm and inviting even to Spock. Most people are not. They find his logic and his control cold and robotic and he in turn finds them overly... everything. Too loud, too bright, too emotional. Nyota might be bright and emotional, but it was soothing rather than painful, a meshing of their personalities rather than a conflict.
He knew, in a world where experience was important in any field, that his lack of expertise in relationships was a hindrance, especially when he considered the complications of dating a non-Vulcan, and a human dating a Vulcan. It had made him hesitate, at first, but there had never been regrets - instead, he had appreciated the guidance and the ability to learn more of this stunning woman who cares for him, and for whom he cares in return.
The tight fingers in his shirt and the soft whine bring a slight twist of his lips, something that might almost pass as a smile for Spock. It is gratifying, illogically, to know that she would be content to stand there and allow him to hold and kiss her, and drink in the smell of home. But the bedroom is a better option for them, as it means a bed, where he can feel the weight of her pressed against his body, or the warmth of her skin seeping into his.
He turns to her again, once they have entered the room and the door slides shut behind them, settling his hands on her hips and going in for another kiss, deeper this time, drawing it out as long as he can. ]
[Though there is no one on the other side, Nyota has never been more grateful for closed door. It's more symbolic of finally having some time to themselves, some privacy, with no risk of someone coming to bang on it to catch their attentions or a strong tense voice over a ship's loudspeaker calling them back to the bridge even though their shift is over.
Once his hands reach her hips, hers are in motion too, climbing under his shirt hem and skating across his back just to come around to his front. The Starfleet uniform does his body no justice; Nyota spreads her fingers across the rippled muscles of his stomach as she sighs softly into his mouth. The fitness of Spock's body always feels like her little secret, being the only one to see it and touch it and most of all, taste it.
And speaking of that, as much as it pains her again, Nyota pulls out of the kiss, licking the taste of him off her lips before speaking.]
Lay down.
[It's more of a request with her questioning tone than it is a demand. He has room to say no if he has other plans.]
[ He has no plans; all of his intent had been to be close to her, seek comfort in her arms, something he rarely seeks and almost never finds. So he steps away from her, moving slowly, his hands lingering on her hips before he drops them back to his side and takes the few steps to the bed.
Though she did not request, he removes his shoes and socks, tucking them aside. He won't be going out again tonight. Next is his shirt, removed and folded and set aside for laundering later. He leaves his pants alone; those can come off later, especially has she hasn't indicated anything more, yet.
Spock sits down on the edge of the bed before lying back, the movements simple and efficient and almost graceful for that. He watches Nyota, however, eyes dark as he studies her face. ]
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no subject
It is a privilege to know her mind, one he does not intend to forsake.
Spock drops his fingers from hers to wrap his arms around her waist, hands settling low on her hips so he can pull her in close. Spock is always in control - he can count the number of times he has lost control on one hand and each of them is a deep shame - and does not feel anxiety or displeasure from traveling in close quarters with strangers, does not find it difficult to adjust to new places. But he finds it gratifying to return to his own apartment and take in familiar sights. He has no reason to prefer his own bed, but sleeping in it shall be advantageous to his physical condition. His nose is sensitive, but he has adjusted to the unique smells produced by cities and space docks and a thousand milling individuals, so he has no reason to lower his head to Nyota's shoulder and press his nose against the juncture of her neck and breathe in the scents unique to her.
But he does, closing his eyes as he allows himself a moment to simply accept the pleasure it brings him. ]
no subject
Though she made sure to eschew any strong fragrances, Nyota still rubbed her usual cocoa butter across her fresh from the shower skin, giving it not just a golden sheen, but a mild inoffensive scent. She's fully aware of what Spock is doing and she is not only amused, but honored. For a man whose nose can bring him all sorts of suffering, to take in her scent after being apart for so long, she can't help but tip her head back for him to take all he needs, all he wants.]
no subject
The fact that she is willing to talk to him and work out any issues that might arise because of their differing cultural histories means their relationship is even stronger than relying on the need to guess or read her emotions. Returning home to her is gratifying, because Nyota understands him in ways very few others even attempt.
Beneath the smell of the cocoa butter - a smell he has come to associate with his girlfriend, by the point - he can smell her own scent, and when she tips her head back, exposing more of her neck, he drags his nose, and his lips, up the column of her throat. He does not need to attempt to smell or read her arousal, because he knows she desires him, just as he desires her, knows that this will progress into their bedroom, all without saying much.
He drags his hands up her back and back down before releasing her, reaching for her hand again so he can lead her into the room. ]
no subject
But opposites certainly attract and that is indeed why they work so well, regardless of the friction sometimes caused by their differences. She has experience to look back on, old lovers to think of and consider what she needs and wants the most out of her relationship with Spock. Nyota knows she has the upper hand here with that, but she never feels like it's something to be wielded as a weapon. No, instead, she brings it out gently, giving it to him so he can understand where she has been and where she's going and for him to show her what he has (or doesn't in this case) in exchange.
Nyota is reluctant to let go of her hold on him, fingers curled and gripped in the folds of his shirt. She sighs softly with a little hum as she feels his cool lips skate across her warmer skin, but then whines almost inaudibly when Spock pulls back. Certainly she could stand to stay here in the middle of his living room and hold him a little longer, but once Nyota feels his hand in hers, her reluctance fades away and is replaced with a small knowing smile as she follows him down the hall. Yes, the next step is definitely a better option than just standing here. She won't even try to argue against it.]
no subject
He knew, in a world where experience was important in any field, that his lack of expertise in relationships was a hindrance, especially when he considered the complications of dating a non-Vulcan, and a human dating a Vulcan. It had made him hesitate, at first, but there had never been regrets - instead, he had appreciated the guidance and the ability to learn more of this stunning woman who cares for him, and for whom he cares in return.
The tight fingers in his shirt and the soft whine bring a slight twist of his lips, something that might almost pass as a smile for Spock. It is gratifying, illogically, to know that she would be content to stand there and allow him to hold and kiss her, and drink in the smell of home. But the bedroom is a better option for them, as it means a bed, where he can feel the weight of her pressed against his body, or the warmth of her skin seeping into his.
He turns to her again, once they have entered the room and the door slides shut behind them, settling his hands on her hips and going in for another kiss, deeper this time, drawing it out as long as he can. ]
no subject
Once his hands reach her hips, hers are in motion too, climbing under his shirt hem and skating across his back just to come around to his front. The Starfleet uniform does his body no justice; Nyota spreads her fingers across the rippled muscles of his stomach as she sighs softly into his mouth. The fitness of Spock's body always feels like her little secret, being the only one to see it and touch it and most of all, taste it.
And speaking of that, as much as it pains her again, Nyota pulls out of the kiss, licking the taste of him off her lips before speaking.]
Lay down.
[It's more of a request with her questioning tone than it is a demand. He has room to say no if he has other plans.]
no subject
Though she did not request, he removes his shoes and socks, tucking them aside. He won't be going out again tonight. Next is his shirt, removed and folded and set aside for laundering later. He leaves his pants alone; those can come off later, especially has she hasn't indicated anything more, yet.
Spock sits down on the edge of the bed before lying back, the movements simple and efficient and almost graceful for that. He watches Nyota, however, eyes dark as he studies her face. ]