Reconnecting - Part 2

Posted on 30 May 2025 @ 7:21am by Lieutenant JG Dylan McConnor & Lieutenant Commander Stovek

1,670 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: The Festival of Unity
Location: Elysia

Lieutenant Commander Stovek stood on the transporter pad in Starbase 375’s primary hub. Elysia was not what one cold call a typical haunt for one raised in the arid deserts of Vulcan; but then again, Stovek was far from a typical Vulcan. The Operations manager was coming off a five day rotation in the repair team working on the Cygnus, so thirty-six hours of leave was especially welcome. And since Stovek had been invited by his handsome young friend Lieutenant McConnor to spend time in a beachside villa, he was fully prepared.

The Vulcan was dressed in a form-fitting black tank top, embroidered with white characters in Vulcan script, as well as a longer fitting swimming garment referred to by the Computer as ‘board shorts’; apparently this swimwear was fashionable for surfing, a very dangerous looking Terran water activity of questionable entertainment value. The Computer identified the footwear as flip-flops, an apparent reference to the noise they made while ambulating. Black sunglasses adorned Stovek’s face, a necessity for an environment with near dangerous levels of ultraviolet radiation coming from twin solar masses. Since he knew he was going swimming, Stovek had not bothered much with his hair; a small amount of mousse, a few strokes of a comb and a vigorous shake of his head had given the blonde Vulcan a classic version of a messy look hairdo.

Satisfied with his appearance, the transporter whisked the Vulcan to a public transporter station, only about 200 meters from the cabin. The path was adorned with sea shells of varying sizes, all tasteful arranged and suspended in a clear resin that gave the appearance of flowing water. The sand was warm, but not burning as it was on volcanic plains of Vulcan’s Womb of Fire. Stovek approached the polished wooden door of the designated villa and rapped sharply three times with his right hand.

Dylan heard the rap on the door in-between laps. He swam to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out of the water. He grabbed a bath towel and draped it around his shoulders. The security screen showed him the identity of the visitor - but what was Stovek wearing? he wondered.

"Come on in," he called out. The computer recognized his voice and the command, and allowed the doors to part open.

“Hello, it’s Stovek,” said the Vulcan as the door swished open. Like most homes in known space, Stovek was certain that this one was equipped with external monitoring devices for safety. The Vulcan was carrying a satchel over his shoulder; he lifted the satchel from his side and placed it on the countertop nearby in what he assumed was a kitchenette of sorts. “I hope you do not mind that I bought a bottle of Vulcan Brandy, 2255 vintage. My father has a fairly substantial collection of alcoholic beverages from across the Alpha…” Stovek paused in the middle of his sentence when his gaze fell upon the young Lieutenant. Without missing a beat, the Vulcan said “It appears I am overdressed. I was not aware the attire was going to be quite that casual, Dylan.”

"I was in the pool," replied simply Dylan. He walked closer to Stovek, oblivious to the water dripping in his steps, and took the bottle from Stovek. "Thank you," he said. He looked at the label, which was written in Vulcan hieroglyphics, and admired the amber liquid. "Should I open it now? Does it need time to breathe?"

“Forgive me,” said the Vulcan, his face and ears flushing green. “Since my world is extremely dry, I am unfamiliar with the etiquette of swimming…but I could have sworn that Terrans I have known were at least minimally clothed while doing so.” He paused, viewing his companion with a less critical and more appreciative eye. “And yes, since this is humid heat, the Brandy should breathe slightly before consumption.”

Dylan uncorked the bottle and smelled the liquor. It smelled slightly smokey, quite earthy and mineral. He was looking forward to tasting it.

"I grew up on Aquaria II," he said. "The whole planet is basically one ocean. I never set foot on Earth before the Academy. We basically spend most of our lives in the water. Clothing just... Gets in the way. The only time we wear anything in the water is when we're going deep."

“Vulcan only has shallow, extremely salty seas; I never even set foot in one until I had completed the Academy. And of course everyone wore bulky, formless robes. But I think I prefer the custom on your world more.”

Dylan smiled. The last thing he had expected, the last thing he would have wanted, was to make Stovek uncomfortable. He had of course sensed the Vulcan's initial discomfort, but now Stovek seemed to be relaxing into this.

"If this is making you uncomfortable I can put something on," he offered.

"It will take some, um, getting used to," said the Vulcan. The corners of his mouth turned upward ever so slightly, in a vague approximation of a smile. "But I am warming up to it. If it would make you more comfortable, I could..." He let the phrase trail off, his implication clear.

"I'm comfortable with whatever you choose to do," replied Dylan. "But if you're offering..." He stretched out a hand, and reached for the hem of Stovek's shirt, slowly lifting it up and over his torso.

Stovek had not anticipated that his younger companion would be so...for lack of a better term, forward. In the Vulcan's experience most Humans tended to be uncomfortable with touching others, borderline prudish. Seeing a Human (and an attractive one at that) embrace a broader perspective was quite refreshing. The tight black tank top slipped off his head, and Stovek offered Dylan a warm smile.

"Don't let the others know that you saw me actually smile," said Stovek in a mock-serious tone. "It will shatter their image of me as a bastion of control and stoicism."

"It'll be our little secret," replied Dylan. He stepped closer to Stovek. Removing the shirt had disrupted his otherwise impeccable hair. He pushed a strand of that unusually blond Vulcan hair back behind those lovely pointed ears, and slowly let his fingers trace the way down the Vulcan's ribcage, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of those oversized board shorts. He left his hands there, leaving Stovek with the final decision of whether to remove them or not.

"As the Ferengi would say...in for a slip, in for a bar." Stovek had certainly not expected his young friend to be flirtatious, even forward in his actions. In the Vulcan's experience, Terrans were not like that in general; another reason why he kept reminding himself hat despite him being Human, McConnor was not Terran.

Dylan pushed Stovek's board shorts down to the floor. As the Vulcan stepped out of them, Dylan pushed them out of the way with his foot. He placed his hands on Stovek's hips and felt the warm and smooth skin, his hands drifting backwards as he pressed his body closer to Stovek's. The Vulcan was slightly shorter, causing Dylan to look down into Stovek's eyes.

The fact that Stovek was so open and willing to this encounter was a welcome surprise, and one of the last things Dylan had expected. Dylan's nakedness truly hadn't been intended as an invitation for sex, and certainly hadn't been intended to make Stovek uncomfortable. Everything he had told Stovek was true - on Aquaria, swimwear was hardly ever worn except when deep-sea diving, or when the water was exceptionally cold. Of course, among friends, one thing could lead to another - and very often did.

Dylan ran his hands up Stovek's back and behind the Vulcan's neck. He leaned down and let his lips graze Stovek's mouth. His lips parted at the touch of Dylan's. Soon their tongues were exploring each other's mouth, their naked bodies pressing against each other in a tight embrace, hands wandering in exploration.

Dylan felt something in his mind. A tingling presence. Thoughts that were not his own. Images, some of them highly erotic.

Your mind to my mind, the Vulcan repeated in the privacy of his own thoughts. Physical contact, especially intimate contact, caused most of his people to lower their personal barriers and connect telepathically with one another. When one is not a touch telepath, the connection can be made much easier. Aware that it might make his companion uncomfortable, Stovek sent a message to Dylan. I can break the Meld if you are uncomfortable.

Don't you dare, thought Dylan.

As you wish, the Vulcan projected back as his personal barriers began to fall, one by one. His thoughts raced in a thousand directions…the bitterness of his divorce and the complexity of his relationship with his ex-wife, the pangs of grief he felt for his fallen comrades, and his uncertainty about what was happening. Intimate relations with a fellow officer was considered by some to be taboo; Stovek was nowhere near as prudish as most Vulcans, and he could tell that his younger companion wanted this as well.

Dylan experienced Stovek's emotional turmoil firsthand. It was an unsettling experience, and went against his perception of the Vulcan's customary stoic demeanor. He felt the contempt and the bitterness toward Stovek's former wife, but also his concern for their child. Stovek's sorrow for their fallen comrades compounded Dylan's own. But one thing they did not share was doubt as to their current situation. He felt that the Vulcan wanted this as much as he did - he had noticed the lingering stares and stolen glances that the Vulcan had tried to conceal.

He broke away from the kiss, smiled at the Vulcan, and led the way toward the bed.

------

A post by

Lt. JG Dylan McConnor
Engineering officer

And

Lt Cmdr Stovek
Chief Of Operations
USS Cygnus

 

RSS Feed