AUTHOR: Seleya O'Brien
TITLE: In The Rain
RATINGS: R
SUMMARY: Kirk is in pain and Spock, again, comes to the rescue.
DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story are the property of
Paramount/Viacom. I am in no way making money from this story.
FEEDBACK ADDRESS: mountseleya@hotmail.com  Any feedback good or bad is
welcome!
WARNINGS: This story contains mild, male with male sexual content. If this
bothers you, please do not continue.
PAIRINGS: K/S
SERIES: TOS

IN THE RAIN
by Seleya O'Brien

The wind played in his hair, taking it dancing with the coolest touch.  The ocean sang as he stood before it, watching, listening. His mind a thousand miles away. He drew his coat in close, tucking his chin into the collar, his hazel eyes wide, pooling with the tears of some unknown pain. 

I stood far away, but close enough for the chilly wind to bring the sound of his sobbing brushing against my ears. The sound chilled me more that the night air; Made my blood run cold. He did not know I was near. He could not know that I was seeing this. I tried to turn away, leave him to this lonely meditation.  But I stood transfixed by his tragic beauty. Golden hair gone wild, face raw and unmasked.  I wanted to go to him, pull him close, hold him until his pain was mine.  I wanted to....I wanted to.  But I could do nothing but stand in the damp sand as a cold rain began to fall around us. He fell to his knees at the water’s edge, the rain soaking through him, mixing with his tears. The wind and rain bit at my skin, stinging my eyes. I knew I had to go to him, to pull him out of this rain to someplace warm and dry.  I knew I had to protect him...as I had always protected him. 

This was my Captain, my friend, my secret pain.  I had to go to him.  I forced myself into the cold rain toward him, stumbling in my haste.  He did not hear my approach and startled as my arms wrapped him up, pulling him out of the sand.  He struggled against me, seemed ashamed to have been seen, then gave into my strength, slumping into my arms as we walked together toward the cottage nearby. We did not speak, only hurried through the torrent that had started to fall, both wet, both chilled.  The cottage was in sight. It’s worn paint and uneven shingles. It’s rusted iron fence and broken gate looked lovely in the rain.  Its windows shone with yellow light, promising warmth and shelter.  We made our way faster along the path, anxious for that comfort, that warmth. 

He spoke my name as I reached out to push open the crooked gate. I looked at him, his face etched with rain, his hair tangled along his forehead.  His eyes still hinted of sadness. Tears still brimmed along the edges.  We made a few more steps into the little overhang over the door of the cottage. It shielded us from most of the rain as I reached for the door.  He put his hand on mine and said my name again. His arms pulled me close. I tried to resist, knew that I should. But my will was not strong. I wanted this. I had wanted this for so long. Our lips met. My breath caught in my throat as I heard him moan so softly at the touch. My arms embraced him, pulling him closer. His mouth left mine, trailing along my neck, and then back again on my lips, passionate, strong. I forgot to breath and struggled for air as we ended the kiss and stood under the alcove holding one another. He clung to me as if to save his life and began to sob from somewhere deep inside.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, his breath cool against my ear. “I’m so sorry.”  I shook my head and let our eyes meet. My mouth covered his, tasting him, breathing him.

“I have wanted this.” I murmured, pressing him against the door.  “I have wanted you.”  

I opened the door and carried him through, walking through the front room to the bedroom, laying him gently on the bed.  He let me remove his wet garments and my own, placing them by the hearth.  I started a fire and made my way to the bed to join him, pulling him close. We held each other that night; kissed and caressed. We melted into one, listening to the sounds of the rain and wind pounding against the warmth of our shelter. 

I drank in his scent, cool and inviting. I felt the softness of his skin, tasted it’s pleasing, salty flavor. I ran my fingers through his silky hair, as soft and fine as I had imagined it in countless dreams.  I let my hands flow along his body, marveling at the smooth feel of hard muscle under cool skin, of coarse hair mingled with soft fur.  I listened to the sweet tones of his voice as he murmured and whispered in my ear as I touched him, satisfied him, made love with him.  I moaned at his touch as he explored my body in the way that I had his and called his name into the night, pressing myself against him, feeling him against me. I laughed as we tumbled together, wrapping ourselves in the musky sheets, never touching enough, wanting more of each other.

He smiled, touching my face, running a finger along my jawline, up along my ear, through my raven hair. He whispered to me, told me of his love, confided his passions. I pulled him near, wanted to hold him until the end of time, to keep him safe, to make sure that no one else would ever touch him. I closed my eyes and pretended that the moment would be forever. 

THE END