Two months after the Khitomer peace conference, Kirk and Spock prepared for their first Christmas season on Earth in nearly a decade. With Kirk now retired and Spock at leisure while he pondered his next career move, they bowed out of the limelight and began to plan a real vacation together.
Due to Kirk's recent experiences on Rura Penthe, the two men decided to spend the holidays in the southern hemisphere. A short session with a travel computer led them to Lake Wanaka in southern New Zealand, and they immediately made their reservations.
Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott beamed in to their hotel room at Lake Wanaka to spend Christmas Eve with them and they caroused late into the night, exchanging gifts, drinking fine ales, and reminiscing over their long and successful years as shipmates. Bones and Scotty were both professional drinkers, and when Kirk and Spock retired for the evening, their friends were still boozing in the living room of the hotel suite.
Thus it was that on the brilliant, sunny Christmas morning with a sky as blue and unblemished as a robin's egg, Scotty and McCoy were still fast asleep on the sofas when Kirk and Spock arose to greet the day. They'd obviously been too inebriated to leave the night before. Figuring they had a good few hours before their slumbering friends would awaken, the pair set off for the lake, leaving a hastily scribbled note behind them.
The woman at the canoe rental hut almost couldn't believe her eyes when she saw them approaching along the beach. Could that--really be--Captain Kirk? From the news-vids? And Captain Spock as well? Their pictures had been all over the press a few months ago--after all, they'd saved the president of the Federation and uncovered a galactic conspiracy!
Hastily she checked her reflection in the mirror. Then, satisfied that not a brown hair was out of place and that her red Pohutokawa flower, a symbol of New Zealand Christmases, was tucked safely behind her ear, she awaited them behind the counter, smiling nervously.
"We'd like to rent a canoe," said Captain Kirk.
Five minutes later, they were trudging down the beach carrying the paddles they'd picked out from the bin. The rental canoes were resting on the sand at the edge of the water. After picking one out based on the very scientific process of whatever matched Kirk's T-shirt, they pushed it most of the way into the water and carefully climbed in.
The weather was gorgeous. Birds flew from tree to tree along the lake's edges, and picturesque mountain peaks framed a flawless blue sky. Smooth paddles dipped almost silently into the shimmering water, pushing it behind with terpsichorean swirls. Kirk and Spock didn't speak much, instead choosing just to enjoy the experience.
That is, until Kirk suggested cheerfully that Spock turn around and paddle backwards for a while.
As innocently as he might have been trying to sound, Spock was immediately suspicious. He'd known Jim far too long not to be able to sense... mischief.
But, with the care and consciousness of his own center of gravity only a Vulcan can manage, Spock turned around anyway. There were reasons they'd been together so long, after all.
"You're beautiful," Kirk commented matter-of-factly, staring into those big dark eyes. He lifted his paddle and plunged it slowly into the water once again, not breaking his gaze.
"It is fortunate that you are of that opinion," said Spock demurely.
"I want breakfast."
"You have already--" Spock stopped. No way was Jim talking about food, not with that gleam in his eye. "Jim," he started again, gently. "We are in the middle of a public lake."
"So?" Kirk's eyes sparkled. "It's Christmas morning, and it's early. Nobody's here. There's nothing but trees on the shore, and we're too far away anyway. I can bend down, and the canoe will hide what I'm doing."
"It is incredibly difficult to engage in sexual intimacies in a canoe," Spock attempted. "Many centuries ago, young members of the upper class on your world were encouraged to socialize with potential mates in canoes, where a chaperone was not required because illicit activity would result in an upending of the boat."
"Spock, you think I don't know what I'm doing?" Kirk grinned. "I'll be very careful. You just relax and enjoy this excellent weather."
Only a Vulcan would have to be talked into receiving fellatio, Kirk mused as he slowly edged his rear end off the canoe seat and into the belly of the boat. The canoe rocked alarmingly, but he froze for a few seconds and let the stillness of the water calm it.
Spock watched skeptically as Kirk inched forward on the base of the boat, but, miraculously, it didn't rock all that much anymore. Apparently, Kirk did know what he was doing...
When Kirk had come near enough, Spock opened his legs and let his husband crawl between them. Kirk rubbed his face against Spock's thighs for a moment, like a cat, watching with satisfaction as a growing lump sprang into firmness beneath the Vulcan's trousers. He pounced on it with his mouth and gummed it eagerly through the fabric. Yum-um.
Time to let Mini-Spock out to enjoy the sunlight. Kirk's fingers worked quickly, and before long, he had Spock's penis out in the open. He licked and slurped the head a little bit and then opened his own fly to grasp his reaction.
Spock patted his head and ran his fingers through Kirk's wavy hair affectionately as Kirk sucked. The sun felt good on his face and shoulders, and Jim's wet, energetic mouth pulled bursts of pleasure from him with every suckle. He leaned back slightly and pushed his hips towards Kirk's hungry mouth and fondling fingers. Kirk's lower body moved as well as he squeezed and teased his own organ with his other hand.
The boat began to rock, but they were too swept up in their early-morning passion to be watchful. Kirk's busy tongue ran circles around the column of pulsing flesh protruding from Spock's fly. They were both very close to orgasm, and with each jut of their hips, the boat swayed further and further from a safely resting position.
Spock came, and his cum spilled out across Jim's lips. Aroused beyond his breaking point, Kirk came all over his own hand and fell with a shudder against Spock's lap.
O treacherous momentum!
One minute, Kirk was snuggling up against his favorite Vulcan's linen shirt, and, with a sudden splash, the next minute he was in the lake up to his chest and paddling water. Wiping droplets from his eyelashes, he sputtered, "Spock!"
"I am here." Spock was bobbing in the water beside the upturned canoe, struggling to right it.
Kirk swam over to help, feeling the water drag at his still-twitching and still exposed penis. Together, he and Spock flung the boat back over onto the water right side up, where it landed with jerking waves. Kirk held the boat steady as best he could with both arms while Spock slithered in, keeping his body flush to the structure.
Kirk remained in the water and watched Spock wring out his soaking wet shirt and pant legs. He noticed that Spock's fly was closed again. "Sorry," he said, looking up with puppy-dog eyes and a sheepish smile.
Spock's eyebrow went up. "Enjoying your swim?"
"Actually, it's not that bad in here."
"In that case, would you like to tow me in to shore? I do not find the feeling of these wet clothes at all pleasing."
"I don't know if I can manage that." Kirk looked towards the shore, then back at Spock--who was smiling that tiny quarter-smile that only a Vulcan in love can execute.
"Come back in the boat, Jim." Spock held out his hands and with GREAT care not to tip the boat again, they managed to return Kirk to the canoe.
They were sitting in the boat squeezing the water out of their clothing when it struck them. "The paddles," they cried.
"Look, there's one." Kirk pointed.
"And there is the other." It was in the other direction. Both paddles floated innocently on the surface of the water, drifting slowly away from the canoe on the ripples caused by all the commotion.
"This is my fault; I'll go after them." Kirk unbuckled his life-vest to facilitate swimming, and gingerly splashed back into the water.
He was back to the canoe with both paddles before long and threw them inside before both men began once again to slowly ease him inside. By this time, the bottom of the boat was a huge, dirty puddle of mud, lake water, and leaves. Kirk stepped through the muck towards his seat and sat down, as carefully as possible. His shoes squeaked.
"Now, then, Spock," he said when he had settled his rear. "For the shore?"
"For the shore," Spock echoed, and they began to paddle. Even though Kirk was quite embarrassed at the results of their canoodling, he found pleasure in the sight of Spock with water dripping from his bangs. He remembered one other time he had seen Spock in soaked civilian clothing--in San Francisco of the past, when he had jumped into the whale tank at the Cetacean Institute to meld with Gracie. He'd had to think fast to handle Dr. Taylor's anger, on top of hiding his pangs of desire for an at-the-time inaccessible love. Thank goodness yet another dunk in the water had reopened Spock's locked-away memories.
They reached the shore and turned their paddles in to the surprised canoe rental girl. "Did you fall in?" she asked them.
Just for fun, Kirk answered, "No," as he gave her his paddle, water dripping from every inch of his clothing. He and Spock trudged away down the beach, drenched to the bone and leaving behind a trail of mud.
"Dr. McCoy will no doubt be amused by the condition of our clothing," Spock predicted as they headed for the street.
Kirk winked. "Knowing Bones and Scotty, if we hurry, we might be able to get back and change into dry clothes before either of them wake up."