kosu: (Default)
spock ([personal profile] kosu) wrote2019-05-04 09:33 pm
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ic contact


this is spock

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hypostrophe: (down | good god man)

[personal profile] hypostrophe 2017-06-20 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ Leonard doesn't really want to know what Jim might think of his slow, methodical courting of Spock — the very definition of a sure thing since she's his soulmate and all — and has somehow, miraculously, avoided ever finding out. Either Jim has been practicing his new-found sense of circumspection, or he's been too busy to pay much attention to what his two best friends are doing, an option that's too ridiculous to even consider for very long. Maybe he's just been saving all his pestering for Spock and she's been too kind to tell him about it.

He's grown very good at telling when she's pulling his leg about not understanding a cultural reference, so the honest confusion on her face is met with a somewhat surprised, but indulgent smile as he follows her into her quarters and deliberately shuts the door behind them. ]


In the second half of the 19th century, Japanese woodblock prints of the Ukiyo-e style were hugely popular in Europe and especially in France, [ he explains, listening absently to the lock engage behind them as he resolutely crowds her up against the wall again so he can duck his head to kiss her in between his words, his hands dropping to settle on her body, first just gripping her hips and then sliding beneath her tunic to seek out her hothothot skin. ] Owning a collection of Japanese prints would be a sign of good taste and erudition. It was generally viewed to be an appeal to the person's good character. Asking someone to admire something so fashionable and exotic was considered a safe invitation in a time when most courtship was still done under the watchful eye of a chaperone. However, it's also a veiled reference to a sub-genre of Japanese prints known as Shunga, which is rather graphic pornography. By the mid-20th century, do you want to come up and see my etchings was widely understood to be a proposition in the same way that an offer of coffee or a cocktail might be.

[ He presses a grin into the skin of her neck just below her ear, wondering if Vulcans ever had something similar to shunga, and deciding that he wouldn't be in the least bit surprised if they did. For all that Spock likes to spout off about logic and reason and suppressing one's emotions, he knows her well enough now to know that she, and presumably many of her people, are just as hot-headed as he can be, and her emotions can flare up just as spectacularly.

The way she'd almost growled at a waitress who'd spent too much time flirting with him at dinner one night had proven that point admirably. ]


If you have any graphic pornography you'd like to share, I would be very interested to see it, [ he teases in a low, suggestive murmur, lifting his head just enough that he can trace the path his thumb took with the tip of his tongue. ]
hypostrophe: (civvies | god space sucks)

[personal profile] hypostrophe 2017-06-26 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ He laughs, not unkindly, and lets his hand splay wide across her back, rucking up her shirt so his pinky brushes against the fever-warm skin of her back. ] I would be surprised if you had, [ he admits, thinking of Spock as a little Vulcan in her learning bowl, examining ancient Earth pornography in clinical detail, struggling to keep her emotions firmly squashed down. The image is at once hilarious and also very poignant, and Leonard finds himself pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of her ear for no real reason other than he wants to. Every now and then the realization that Spock is a refugee, a member of a species on the brink of extinction rams into him with all the subtlety of a shuttle train, and he's left reeling. Trying to imagine how he would feel if Earth had been destroyed, if his home had been wiped out, his family eradicated, leaves him feeling sick and hollow, and that's just the hypothetical. That Spock has survived that and has continued on with her life, continued to flourish and grow in her station, is so...inspiring sounds trite, but it's true enough.

Leonard has a great respect for her, greater than he can quite put into words. It's a good thing she's a touch-telepath, and he can simply flatten his hand to her back beneath her blouse so she can understand what he's feeling. ]


Just an excuse, I figure. Getting that kind of stuff was probably prohibitively expensive, and only the richest of dandies could actually afford real Shunga. Most people would get their meaning, even if they didn't have anything to back it up.

[ He loves how easily she touches him when they are behind closed doors. If asked even six months ago whether he thought Spock would be handsy, his answer would have been a resounding no. And also, perhaps, a quick scan with a tricorder, because what kind of person would ask such a question? It's especially gratifying to realize that he's wrong, though, and he's gotten almost used to feeling Spock's hot, narrow hands settle on his body and clutch him close to her. ]

Is that so? [ he asks, not even attempting to hide his grin. ] I'll have you know I'm a big fan of poetry, darlin', you should have said something earlier.