Titla: Rhapsody in Rain
Part 4/4


	Spock lifted up his head from Kirk's shoulder and the human
caught his breath:

	There was fire in those bottomless eyes.  Fire and Need, which
increased the Hunger in him.  He kissed the Vulcan in a long
ravishing kiss, and again and again.  His lungs screamed for
air, as he licked the dry semen from the face and throat, biting
this delicate place, leaving blue marks.  He couldn't get enough
of this man.

	Never stopping, they stood up.  Spock swung his arm around
Kirk's waist to support himself, to not to fall back down to the
same place.

	They were kissing, as the human paced the Vulcan backward to
his bag.  Kissing, as he reached blindly in and rummaged there,
for some endless moments, to find the jar he sought. They kissed
all the way to the bed and continued, while falling down onto
it, licking at each other, biting, savaging.

	The Need met the Hunger, the Hunger crushed with the Need,
melting into one Desire.

	The Vulcan turned on his stomach, feeling those biting kisses
on his neck, ravishing the spot between his shoulder blades,
down the spine to the small of his back.  And every time he 
responded, with a sound coming from deep in his throat, from the
depths of his soul.

	Kirk stopped for a moment, feeling the cleft under his lips. 
Then he lifted himself onto his knees. The Vulcan protested at
the absence of his mouth.  Kirk grinned, then he grasped those
lean hips and raised them up and parted the legs to get a better
hold in this position.  Spock allowed this, waiting for what
would be next, trembling from Need, hiding his face in the
pillow.

	'All mine,' Kirk thought, 'he is all mine.'

	He took the jar.  Aloe vera-- Body Lotion. Quite suitable for
the moment. He poured a generous amount into his palm, warming
it at first.  And then he reached with his hand to the most
private place, pushing all doubts from his mind.  The Vulcan was
hot inside, so hot. He rocked one finger in there.  Giving the
man time to get used to this new sensation. The lean body pushed
back and Kirk's finger slid deeper in, searching, finding,
touching the sensitive place.

	The Vulcan jerked, his trembling increased together with the
Need inside him.  Carefully Kirk added his second finger, gently
fucking him, massaging the small opening, preparing.  He leaned
forward and licked the hot, green-flushed neck again, while his
free hand wandered down to the chest to pinch the hard nipples,
to play with the hair there. 

	Spock moaned into the pillow, his hands holding the edges
tightly.  Hard, this made them both at once unbearably hard. 
Somehow Kirk felt it.  He stopped the licking, he pulled his
fingers out and took the slender hips in his hands.  His cock,
wet from pre-cum, glittered for a moment in the blue-green light
of  the neon sign, before he positioned its tip at the edge of
the hot entrance.

	He wanted to be gentle, later he would to swear to the whole
universe, that he meant to be gentle, but just right in that
moment, when he was at the opening of Spock's ass, the man
beneath him pushed backward.  He passed the entrance with one
swift movement and pushed all the way in.  So deep.  So
painfully deep...

	He was tight and hot inside, he sobbed aloud, an unrecognisable
sound. Of pleasure or of pain?  Kirk didn't know, because right
then the Hunger inside of him undid him completely,  conquered
his senses, short-circuited his mind.

	The heat, the sudden smell of spice.  He had to move, long,
long strokes, faster and faster. The heat around him grew red in
colour, the temperature increased, forcing his back to cover 
itself with perspiration.  He held silk, unbearable soft silk of
a Vulcan cock in his hand.

	Faster!

	The red heat around him took a concrete form.  He felt the red
sand around him, heard the ragged breath, then the wild cries
coming from somewhere.  But he had to move faster and faster, on
and on, never daring to stop. There was a swift movement near
him, he brushed it away as fast as he could.  Fast, yes, this
was the only way he could be now!  Fast, because his life
depended on it.  On and on, never stopping, never daring to give
in to the pressure inside of him.  Even if this pressure would
overtake him.  But not now, when he is still not willing to give
up.  He had to  continue as long as he could.

	Was someone else here?  Did he hear the cries near him?  He
didn't know, because the red heat and the red, spice-smelling
sand, didn't allow it. *release*, someone called, *release*,
someone screamed, *jim, give me release, i beg you!* 

	And at the point of the greatest heat and the greatest pressure
the desired release came. And then the darkness, and the
weakness and oblivion...

	Finally he surrendered to it, feeling the heat vanish away,
being replaced by the merciful darkness and the cold, singing
rain...



	A long way, back to consciousness.  He shivered, feeling the
cold on his skin and the trembling body beneath him.  He
shifted, then slid aside but Spock didn't move, only a tremor
running down his body.

	Cold. It had gotten cold in here.  But why?  He reached out and
 touched the heating. There was only cold metal under his
fingers, and a red light on the control display:
'FUNKTIONSSTOERUNG. GERAET AUSSER  BETRIEB.'

	Dammit, he swore to himself.  Something had to go wrong in this
thing, just now, when he was here with a naked Vulcan.

	"Spock?"

	"Y-yes, Jim?"  The man tried desperately to suppress the
rattling of his teeth.

	"The central heating is kaput. You'd better take a hot shower,
and meanwhile I will unpack the thermal sleeping bag."

	The Vulcan nodded, then stood up and headed for the bathroom.
Kirk noticed the careful motions of the slender body.  He turned
back to the bed. He tossed the sheet aside, together with the
bed cover with a wet spot in the middle. Then he reached for the
pillow, to pull it out of the cover. It was wet too. Two small
spots, just right there, where the Vulcan had buried his face.
The pain inside him signalled that it was still there. 

	He placed the pillow back on the end of the bed, just right,
when the light from the outside of the window moved and fell
onto his body.  Something on him caught his attention: a spot of
green colour, and he realised, shocked, that this didn't come
from the neon sign outside.  He felt rage at himself, the pain
in him increased, a wave of panic arose in him.

	'I have hurt him!'

	"Spock!"  He stalked into the bathroom and almost ran into the
Vulcan.

	" I ... You are...!"

	"I know."

	"...bleeding..."

	"Not as bad as it might be."

	"No, you don't understand!"

	"Jim..."

	The human shook his head, refusing any farther explanation.

	"Jim..."  Spock grasped his shoulders.

	"I have done this to you!"

	"I wanted it."

	"Don't try to make a lousy apology for me!"

	"Jim!"  The grasp around his shoulders tightened and then the
Vulcan leaned forward, claimed Kirk's mouth, and cut off the
next words.

	His eyes closed, he felt he had to give in, to surrender to the
passionate lips on his own, to respond as thoroughly as he was
able. It was breathtaking, almost ravishing, then it slowed down
to became long and intensive, then more and more gentle, with
growing tenderness, till the last trembling feather-like touch
remained there.  And then the hot hands and strong fingers were
gone, leaving only the sound of steps and closing door, the
silence of an empty room.

	He stood there, his eyes closed, for a very long time, feeling
the sweet pain in his chest and unshed tears in his  throat.

	When he came out, he found a somehow oddly familiar scene:
Spock waiting for him, while sitting on the narrow bed.  But
this time he was fully dressed and the bed had been covered with
the unfolded sleeping bag.  He went and picked up the first
garment from the pile on the floor.  Quickly he put it on, and
the rest of his clothing too.  It had gotten very cold in here.

	He went then to the bed, to his Vulcan, who had been waiting
for him.  He allowed himself to be taken by his hand and gently
dragged into the bag.  After some minutes he grew warm.  From
the thermal chips in the garment and from Spock lying in his
arms.  Those Starfleet thermal sleeping bags have been always
designed to take two persons at once, to guarantee their
survival in a low-temperature environment.  But it had also been
this narrow bed, which didn't leave much room for two bodies,
except if they were holding each other.

	Kirk felt Spock's head on his shoulder, the damp black hair,
smelling of spice and shampoo, almost touched his lips.  The
rain outside the window gently drummed in its old, eternal
rhythm.

	"I have to tell you something."  Spock's breath, so hot against
his throat.

	"Please don't."

	"But I want to say it."

	"No..."

	The slender body lying against his own shifted. "Jim, just
listen, please..."

	He didn't answer, he couldn't, because of fearing the words,
which would come.

	"To be here with you like this is a gift beyond any prize."

	Sweet pain in him, unshed tears burning in his throat...

	"But if you will leave in the morning, then I will understand."

	"Spock..."

	The slender body in his arms shifted, the serious face with
burning eyes appeared above him.  Kirk caught his breath, while
looking into the bottomless blackness full of stars. There were
fingers gently put on his mouth, to prevent him from saying
something that he would perhaps regret afterwards.

	"I will understand..."

	Honesty. This look and those hot fingers demanded nothing else,
than honesty.  And nothing less, for a man who has always been
used to facing things straight, sparing himself from nothing. 
He moved his lips and those hot tips brushed aside.

	"Ok," he said then. The only honest answer he was able to give.

	But Spock seemed to be satisfied with this simple word, for he
had slid down again and rested his head on Kirk's shoulder.

	The Vulcan was already asleep, while he was lying still awake. 
He listened to the peaceful breath of a sleeping man, to the
gentle whisper of rain, to the silent cry of the tears in him.



	He must have been asleep, for he had missed the change of the
black night into the grey morning.

	Slowly he became aware again of the heavy body in his arms, of
the head, pillowed on his shoulder, the warm breath against his
throat.

	Carefully, so as not to awake Spock, he slid out of the bed. 
The slender body moved.  He stirred for a moment.  But the
Vulcan only shifted in his sleep, burying himself deeper into
the bag.  Kirk suppressed the urge to stretch out his hand and
touch the black strands, which were the only visible thing of
the man.

	As quiet as he could Kirk stood up, put on his boots, reached
into the closet for his jacket and then he left the room.

	He passed by the breakfast room, which was already open, but
still dark and empty, and the reception desk, where the lamp was
on, but the person usually working there was nowhere to be seen.
 He headed to the main hotel entrance and stepped out onto the
street.

	The street lamps still shone, the cars passed him by, carrying
their owners to their work. The rain, which had been falling the
whole night, had stopped.

	Kirk took a deep breath. The damp air, smelling of sea and
salt, filled his lungs.  He needed to awake to full awareness,
because he had to think and re-think the things which had
happened.  The spell of the night disappeared with the first
pale light of this cold, grey morning. Time seemed to start
running again, pointing to the question which seemed to be
written in every particle of the space around him: WHAT NEXT?

	Only the pain was still there inside him.  Sharp and sweet.  He
had felt it already in those night hours in the park, then in
the hotel room and now every time he saw those black eyes in his
mind.  He stood in front of the hotel, but still somehow his
thoughts dwelled on the sleeping Vulcan, some stories higher.

	First he had to accept the changes.  If he hadn't done it
before, then he should do it now. Perhaps these have caused him
this pain. The knowledge that his friend, his rational, logical
and innocent Vulcan, has gone for good.  And with him their
friendship.  So clean, so straight, so uncomplicated in its
simplicity. Things had now shifted into a level of hurts,
passion, desire, rage, but of joy and tenderness too.

	And suddenly he knew, what this ache in him meant, and
realising it, he almost forgot how to breathe.

	He had felt it once, in his life.  Twice or thrice.  And
although he had believed that this would come again one day, he
had never, even in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would be
so strong this time and that it would be with *him*.  How could
it come to this?  Has it been there before?  Hard to say.  For
the days of innocent friendship have become the past, and the 
happenings in between have been like a storm: fast, unexpected,
taking mercilessly all away, revealing everything that had been
hidden until now.

	But although things might be like this, Kirk knew that however
much he might speculate, he would never figure out a
satisfactory answer.  Because it was already too late for this
task. The universe, once thrown out of its old co-ordinates, had
taken its run in another direction.

	'Where is the guarantee, that I will not fail?  Where, in which
book is it written, that I will prove myself worthy to hold the
soul and heart of this Vulcan?  To be responsible for the most
beautiful, brave, gentle and fragile being in the whole
universe?  But it is too late to turn back, even when I have
recognised too late, that I have already stepped out onto the
unknown path. And  to be honest I can't, I don't want to go back
to how it was before, because it is his trust which is dragging
me forwards, and the awareness, that he came first to me,
knowing already what I have realised right now.  I don't know
how it all will end, but I will try my best.  Every time I hold
him, from now on, I will remind myself of this promise.  Not
only because of him, or because of the fact that he came to me
during a rainy night and put himself into my hands, but because
of me too.  And because of the pain in me, which happened to me
again.'

	And then the rain came like the tears of the sky above him.



	The lights of the breakfast room were on already as he returned
and sat down at the nearest table.  He was still the first
person there, except for the waitress, who paced busily here 
and there, bringing dishes and cups and plates.

	Kirk pulled off his jacket and made himself a little more
comfortable. 

	The waitress came to his table: "Guten Morgen, was wuenschen Sie
zum Trinken?"

	"Ich moechte noch warten," he answered back.

	The waitress nodded and left the room.

	Again there was a motion on the threshold. Kirk lifted his head
and then he smiled. Spock, although already combed, shaved and
tidied, still hadn't managed to get the sleep out of his eyes.

	'He is georgeous,' Kirk thought, while he watched the Vulcan
coming hesitantly toward his table.  A bit carefully, he sat
down on the chair beside Kirk.

	"You ... are still here..."

	"Yes. And I will not leave."

	A pair of black eyes widened.  Kirk couldn't resist and took
Spock's hand into his own.

	"Spock, listen..."

	"Die Herrschaften moechten bestellen?" The woman stood suddenly
at their table.  Kirk felt his Vulcan stir, trying to let go of
Kirk's hand.  He didn't allow it.

	"Kaenchen Tee fnr den Herrn and einen mit Kafee fuer mich."

	The waitress nodded and left again.

	"Jim..."

	"Shhhh... we are alone here..."

	"I don't understand..."

	"She is a waitress - discretion is part of her job. Don't
worry, she is always looking away."

	The Vulcan sighed, but he tightened the grasp.

	"I have talked to the man at the reception desk," Kirk
continued, "we will get another room.  For two, with a
functioning central heating.  We can move in a hour or two."

	"Hier, bitte sehr." The waitress seemed to beam down straight
from space.  But this time Spock didn't withdraw.  He watched
the woman put the pots with coffee and tea in front of them,
wearing nothing on her face but an expression of duty.

	Spock turned back to his... mate.

	'I will tell you,' Kirk thought, 'but not now, not here.  First
we will get into our room, where I will kiss you and you will
kiss me back.  And then we will move to the bed, losing all our
clothing on the way, where I will sink in, taking you with me.  
And you will make love to me and I will respond to your touch,
which will drive me crazy.  Until I will beg you to take me, to
fill me, because I want to surrender to you with my body and
soul.  You will move then inside me, getting faster with every
stroke and every thrust, on and on, until you will cry out from
pleasure,  spending your seed into my body, while I will come
beneath you.  Then you will collapse down into my arms,
exhausted, with your head on my shoulder.  And then, in the
sweet moment of the aftermath, I will tell you.' 

	*yes*, a promise of a pair of black bottomless eyes, full of
sparkling stars.



	And this is a morning in the strange town, while behind the
window the rain played its rhapsody.



	My drops are my fingertips,
	touching your eyes, your nose, your parted lips,
	then, sliding down, they leave a trace.
	I'm the rain, gently kissing your face.



	Seeing your beauty, I'm breaking into tears.
	I whisper sweet words into your ears,
	while holding your body in my arms.
	I'm the rain, gently kissing your palms.



	My instrument are the streets, you are walking on,
	my repertoire contains this only song,
	which I'm playing again and anew:
	I'm the rain, madly loving you.

					(Raining Love)



End
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G'Kar to Drazi: "A rodenberry is something you eat?" (konezny)