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Shran woke to the feeling of warm breath on the back of his neck, warm arm around his middle, and warm body curled behind him. It was almost unbearably warm aboard Enterprise to begin with, and Shran hadn’t yet grown accustomed to sleeping with Jon, in either the literal or euphemistic sense of the phrase. They’d spent the night together so rarely that it was still a novel sensation to wake in the captain’s quarters - or his own with Jon also present - and he smiled to himself at the memory of their first time together.
Jon had been nervous, there was no other word for it, and Shran had confronted him only to discover that his new partner’s prior experience had been entirely with women. He’d never done more than kiss a person who wasn’t Human, so the prospect of being with Shran had both delighted and terrified him in equal measure.
Shran’s own experience was more diverse, and he’d done his homework into the bargain. He’d asked Phlox for information on Human sexuality, trusting the Denobulan to provide advice which would be both accurate and free from judgement, and as a result thought he’d known what to expect.
As it happened, Jon had surprised him at every turn, with a natural instinct for driving Shran wild. He’d been especially surprised to discover that a species lacking antennae could be so adept at their stimulation, and yet even on his first attempt Jon had excelled. Now, Shran delighted in the moments they shared together, eager to learn what new surprise Jon might have in store, and keen to reciprocate in kind. There was something to be said for taking an explorer as a lover, Shran thought to himself. One never quite knew what discovery might lay just around the corner.
Trip lay curled around T’Pol, smiling to himself at having convinced her to stay the night, and wishing she’d do it more often. They’d spent hours together before ostensibly laying down to sleep - talking, kissing, and touching fingers before eventually progressing to more - and Trip had enjoyed every minute of it.
He’d often said that he was a gentleman, and he held himself to a high standard even when he was in a relationship. Just because they’d done something before was no reason to assume T’Pol would want to do it again, and he liked knowing that she truly desired him, desired these moments together, and desired to repeat them.
And so he kissed the pointed tip of her ear, whispered her name, and waited for her response before doing more. For a species that only needed to mate once every seven years, T’Pol sure seemed to enjoy being intimate with him at a much greater frequency, and once she got started she was close to insatiable. Leaning into his touch, she reached behind herself to touch him in return, and Trip gasped. She was the only one who’d ever touched him quite like this, and he’d never get enough.
Hoshi looked down at Malcolm, his toned form beneath her softer one, and smiled. In their careers there was no question that he outranked her, but in the bedroom her whim ruled just as often as his own, and she delighted in it. If she wanted to have her way with him, she need only say as much. If she wanted him to do with her as he pleased, he would be all too willing the moment she asked. They trusted each other implicitly, and their intimacy showed it in every respect.
In the present moment Malcolm lay entirely still, his hands beneath her own on the bed, and an adoring look upon his face. She knew that he loved ceding control to her, the one person who would never ask for more than he was willing to give, and that part of the thrill for him was letting go. He rarely had the opportunity to do so while on duty, yet here, in this space, the only expectation was that he be clear about his desires and communicate them to her.
And so she continued the movements of her body - a smooth undulation that brought them both to pleasure’s crest before taking them over it, and a gasp from his lips that she met with one of her own - the heat of their kiss tempered only by the depth of emotion behind it.
At last she stilled, releasing his hands so that he might wrap his arms around her, and she settled atop him - her rock, steady and sure - a man comforted most by her own presence, and the lightness she brought with it. He called her his star, inspired by her name’s true meaning, and she knew that he meant it both literally and figuratively. His guiding light.
Janelle lay beside Mike, listening carefully as he murmured sweet words to her, the Russian endearments flowing from his lips like honey. He’d taken the time to teach her the meaning of each one, and though her pronunciation would never rival that of a linguist like Hoshi, she understood it all, and knew that he meant every part.
They’d been the first pair to form a romantic attachment aboard Enterprise, and she liked to think that they led by example. A gentle closeness that was no doubt obvious to all, a tenderness that they shared openly yet discreetly, and above all a love that was based on a solid foundation of friendship, not mere attraction alone.
Whispering her own soft words in response, she took pleasure in the way Mike held her a fraction closer - his smile warming further before closing the small distance to kiss her, the love flowing between them in a gentle to and fro that felt as easy as breathing. This was the man she wanted to spend her life with, and she knew that if she asked, he would bond himself to her for as long as they each drew breath. And so, she asked.