Title: Snuggle in a Snowdrift
Author: Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten
Email: blueberrysnail (at) yahoo dot com
Rating: NC-17, PWP
I think I slash them because first, I do see them as a couple. But I
also slash them because I think it will make them happy, because
everyone deserves to find that acceptance and support expressed in a
love relationship. I slash them because I think they deserve to be
slashed. They deserve to have each other in every way and to support
each other in every way. In short, they have the right to be
slashed. I want the good guys to win each other. --K'Sal
Written for Side by Side #12. Archived there, ASCEM, WWOMB, and nice places who ask first.
Summary: Fun under a featherbed, in the dead of winter in St. Petersburg.
Snuggle in a Snowdrift
Admiral Kirk woke up swaddled in the motherly folds of a great white featherbed. At the first feel
of a sunsplash warming his face through a real glass window, he realized he was on leave and just
Jim for now. Jim Kirk shifted around and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
There was a lump in the bed next to him, and it was snoring softly. Well, not snoring--wuffling. Had
he no knowledge of the source of the noise, he might almost have thought that a very large dog had
nosed its way under the covers with him.
Jim wondered how Spock could breathe under there, bundled up and lost somewhere in the huge
featherbed, which was the largest he'd ever seen. It was almost a novelty, nearly a foot thick,
and big enough to cover the king-sized bed they were sharing at the house of Chekov's parents. Well,
however funny it looked, it certainly had been warm. The temperature outside, despite the sun, was a
brisk winter's -7, and the volumes of down had been helpful in the middle of the night.
Commander Chekov's family was very proud of his recent promotion, and commission as the first
officer on board the starship Reliant. He was visiting his parents before he left Earth for their
space mission, and several of his old friends from the Enterprise had been invited to St Petersburg
as well. Jim and Spock had enjoyed touring the historic district and admiring the beauty of the
Russian orthodox churches. Of course, Spock had to be careful that the cold wouldn't affect his
health, and long hours of cuddling at nighttime under the army of feathers had become one of the
best parts of the Russian vacation for the two busy Starfleet officers.
Jim studied the lump through half-opened eyes, reveling in the sensation of not having to get up to
a ship's alarm. The wuffling was dying down, and Spock was shifting around a bit especially at the
ankles. Jim knew that his partner was waking up. He quickly decided how to greet the pile of Vulcan
stirring to life.
Before Spock could throw the featherbed off his head or or slither over to Jim under the covers, Jim
announced in a quiet but distinct voice, "Help! Help. Spock is trapped under the snow and I can't
find him anywhere."
Amused affection washed into Jim's mind through their bond as Spock deliberated how to respond.
Finally, from under the feathers, came a muffled, "Admiral, the blizzard is quite thick."
"Spock!" Jim gasped, in a playful imitation of his command tone of alarm. "Spock, I hear you. I'm
coming after you." He started feeling around in the blankets, pretending to be searching. In
reality, it would have been difficult to miss the six-foot-long hill in the bed. Spock once would have
raised his eyebrow skeptically at Jim's weird sense of fun, but embracing his human side meant
learning to appreciate humor, and even silliness, too.
"Admiral, the weather is getting worse. Visibility is extremely low," said the featherbed.
"Hold on, Spock. I can't--see--in all this snow."
Jim continued plumbing the cover with his hands, pressing into the lump sometimes, and sometimes
teasingly avoiding it. It was difficult to resist leaping directly on top of Spock and hugging him
until the feathers flattened away, but Jim continued the little morning dance. He did, however,
seize Spock's ankles with one of his hands.
"Jim, I have become trapped in the snow and cannot move," Spock said cooperatively. "If you are not
able to retrieve me soon, I fear my chances for survival are drastically reduced."
Unable to let his best friend's life be in jeopardy even in jest, Jim slid one hand deftly under
the piles of material. His fingers met warm Vulcan flesh, prompting him to cry, with delight, "I've
"Indeed you mphhh," said Spock as he was kissed. They fought the throttling beast of a blanket
together until they were finally on the same side of it--luckily, underneath. Quite lucky, actually,
because Jim was still nude from last night.
"Oh no, Mister Spock," Jim whispered into the corner of Spock's mouth. "Now we're both trapped under
"Apparently," Spock murmured. "I believe, under this circumstance, that it would be logical to
conserve body heat by drawing together as closely as possible."
"Mmmmh," Jim agreed, smiling happily as he hugged Spock's pajama-clad body with all his might. "I've
got a better idea."
"What is your intended course of action?"
"Well," Jim said, fluffing at the blanket with his fingers, "this is a down comforter, isn't it? I'm
going to go down on you!" He shifted downwards in the bed.
"Your penchant for wordplay is Ohhhh Jimmmm ohhh.... yes....." A sharp inhalation of breath followed
this distracted, relaxed unfurling of syllables. He thrust himself into the tight, wet tugging of
Jim's warm mouth.
Jim took it all in, down to the base, and bobbed his head up and down a few times before coming up
for air. "We are saved, Mister Spock. I seem to have discovered a hot spring in the snow."
"How fortunate for us," Spock gasped. "But it would only be fair to allow me equal access to this...
source of heat."
"Repolarize your body."
"Ah." Jim shifted and turned in the bed, moving his limbs over Spock's with some clumsiness under
the heavy featherbed. When the commotion came to a stop, he was holding himself up over Spock,
facing down and his head pointed towards the Vulcan's feet.
Thus positioned, his erection jutted conveniently close to Spock's loving lips. Spock nuzzled Jim's
dangling testicles with his nose for a moment, then began to lick Jim's penis at the sensitive place
under the head.
Jim moaned a little and then used that sexual energy to dive back down on Spock's shaft. His hands
became entangled in the sinuous green tendrils surrounding it, and they seemed to squeeze more
snugly the harder his mouth muscles pulled on the main organ.
Covered by the gentle weight of the featherbed, the two men sucked each other to completion.
Kneading Jim's considerable buttocks with both hands, Spock caught and swallowed his bondmate's
ejaculate. Jim was messier, and let some dribble onto his lips so Spock could watch him lick it off
once he resurfaced from the far end of the blanket-cave.
Spock beat him to the quick, however, and kissed it off instead. They fell comfortably into each
other's sweaty arms, breathing hard and smiling like children.
"I... think I like... being lost in the snow," Jim said through heavy breaths.
"Perhaps next time it will be my turn to save you," Spock replied, and caressed his back with a lazy