bakerstreet | the first time meme

the first time meme

THE ❝FIRST TIME❞ MEME

RULES!
♥ Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom.
♥ When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 7. The number you get corresponds with the kind of "first time" sex you're having
♥ Go from there! The sky's the limit.

THE LIST!
01] Romantic | You waited and waited and waited for the right moment to take this final step with your partner, and it really paid off; neither of you can imagine this night (or day!) to be any better than it is right now.

02] The Only Time | You know somewhere in your heart that you won't be getting a second chance for this. The relationship is forbidden, or they're moving away, or you're moving away, or something is tearing this relationship apart, and that may be the last thing you want.

03] Set-Up | ... Oh. Well. Someone nudged you and this other person together, the one that you may have loved or hated or been friends with your entire life. It isn't completely by choice, but it doesn't sound like that bad of an idea... Or maybe it does. Who knows?

04] Experience Difference | One of you knows exactly what to do, and the other doesn't! Maybe they're just a natural at this kind of thing... or maybe there's a thing or two they haven't told you yet.

05] Hesitant | One (or both) of you aren't quite sure if you're ready for this next big step... at the same time, you want this to happen, though the thought makes butterflies flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

06] Awkward | It feels like everything that can go wrong does go wrong. Relax? You can't relax! This is s-s-s-s-sex-- oh, boy, there's another mistake.

07] Wildcard | This is the "other" option. Choose any of the above or create your own!

[credit goes to

connikebox]

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[ She can tell that she'd made a mistake from the eyebrow, but she doesn't let it shake her - much. Instead she tosses her head, meeting his eyes squarely. So, she dressed up a bit. She was a cadet in one of the most difficult specialties; she didn't get out much. Or at least, that was what she'd say if he asked (it wasn't really a lie, was it?).

The sweater suits him. The corner of her lips tug into a smile.

Instead she follows him into his quarters, careful not to stare at any one part of the room in particular and feeling uniquely out of place. Does he have visitors often? It doesn't feel like it. Does that make her special or simply .. convenient? ]

Yes, sir. Your directions were quite thorough. [ Hesitating again, before forging ahead. ] I would have picked up a bottle of wine, but I wasn't sure whether you preferred white or red.

[His quarters are utilitarian, for the most part, though he has some pieces of Vulcan art scattered about. This is clearly a place to be used for quiet activities - eating, sleeping, meditating, thinking.

She would be correct in assuming that he rarely has guests here - whether she thinks that makes her special would depend on whether she thinks being one of the few people he trusts, one of the few people whose company he finds pleasant, makes her so.]

I have recently acquired an acceptable bottle of red, if you would like a glass. [He moves into his small kitchen to retrieve it.] Your solo in the recent chorale concert was most pleasant.

[It's very different from her small half of a room, decorated mostly with things to remind her of home ... and a massive amount of books related to her studies. It's very him.]

If you're having one. [Though really, she needs a drink. This is a little out of her comfort zone. His next comment soothes her nerves slightly, and she settles herself near where a chessboard was set up (in preparation for tonight?). ]

You were there? [She hadn't seen him.] My studies don't give me much time for extra-curricular activities, but .. I couldn't give up singing when I came to the Academy.

[He pours them each a glass. Alcoholic beverages don't affect him the way they do humans, but he's developed an appreciation for some of them anyway.]

I attend them whenever my work allows for it. My mother shared her appreciation for Earth music with me from an early age. And you have exceptionally accurate pitch, as well as a tonal quality which is quite...expressive.

[He hesitates a moment, because he's not sure if he goes too far with this already, but, once started down a path, it's only logical to keep going.] I should hope you will continue beyond your tenure here.

[ This is a topic she's more than comfortable with, more than happy to talk at length about, if not for fear of boring him. He seemed interested though, and she seized on the topic as a safety net. ]

Do you listen to a lot of Earth music, then? What would you say is your favorite? [ Why, Spock. You shouldn't have. Really, she's flushed; it's obvious she's enjoying the compliment. ]

I'd like .. [ Tentatively. Carefully. ] If I was assigned to a ship, I'd prefer to continue my music. At least recreationally. I've read studies about music being good for morale, as well. It wouldn't be a waste for a crew, either.

I find jazz to be quite compelling. The rhythms are often unorthodox, but rely on the same system of logic. [He's long since stopped trying to explain how illogical terms such as "like," "dislike," and "favorite" are. In his time on Earth, he's found that they're just different terms for things that are fundamentally the same, if conceptualized differently.]

Music has many positive side effects. It can also improve neural function. It is hardly a waste of anything, beyond its aesthetic attributes. Your voice gives pleasure to all those who hear it; that is no waste.

[ She nods, silenced by his unfailingly accurate appraisal of jazz music and the dichotomy that was Spock listening (!) and enjoying (!!) jazz music. You learned something new every day. Picking up her wine glass, Nyota took perhaps a larger sip than necessary. Time to man up. Woman up? Get up. ]

Do you have a music player here? If you like .. [ This is ridiculous. This is insane. Why is she saying this? She has to be out of her mind. ] I can't teach you how to sing, but I can teach you how to dance. You might find it .. interesting.

[He considers that a moment - an offer made in good faith, really, and after a moment he stands.]

I would not object to the exercise. [The thought of being that close to her is... compelling, though he's reluctant to admit it.]

However, I feel I must point out that coming into contact with me will allow me to sense your emotional state. I would not wish to invade your privacy without your consent.

[ She had to consider that for a moment - her emotional state.. She was nervous. That wasn't uncommon, given that having a drink with a teacher was not a normal scenario. Excited - they were having an intellectual conversation. Happy (that one was obvious). And.. ]

It's all right. I don't mind.

[ And sometimes you had to take a risk to get to where you wanted to be. Standing, she crossed the room to him and tipped her head back, meeting his gaze firmly. ]

I know I can trust you. If you'll start the music?

I am honored by your trust.

[He means that - Spock never expresses emotions the way a human would, but it warms something deep inside him to think that she trusts him enough to allow him the intimacy of touching her - and for a vulcan, even something as simple as touching hands is a very intimate gesture.

He orders the computer to play a tune - slow, with a steady, precise rhythm, good for a beginner to dance to. At least in theory.]

I am given to understand that there are several common positions practiced.

[ Given the importance of touch in Vulcan society and culture, not to mention to Vulcan biology, Uhura doesn't hesitate for fear she give him the wrong idea about the earnestness of her trust. Carefully, so as to not startle him, she settles one of her hands on his shoulder and offers him the other, offering what she hoped was an encouraging smile and not a nervous one. ]

Yes. They depend on the time of the music. But you have to learn the basics, first.

[ She glances down at their feet, repositioning hers slightly. ]

Generally, the male partner leads the dance. That's you. Your free hand rests on my waist.

[ It's easier to think of this as an academic exercise than an intimate act, though her mind is a mess of emotions: excitement, pleasure, apprehension, the nervousness of being able to touch him and the pleasure associated with that. All clearly laid out for him to see once he took her hand. ]

[It's a surge of feelings, the instant their hands meet. It's not really surprising, most of it. In large part, it reflects his own, more subdued feelings. The nervousness is a little confusing, though. He rarely knows this woman to be nervous.

Still, his other hand rests on her waist, and he nods. He won't comment on her emotional state, unless she brings it up herself.]

You may have to take the lead, for demonstration purposes. [He says it simply, but his lips twitch a bit, almost as though he's close to a smile. Okay, maybe this is a little funny. She did just tell him he's the man, apparently. As though he didn't already know that.]

[ She may never show that she's nervous, but Nyota spends a fair amount of time unsure of herself. It's only normal. But showing it was a weakness and a vulnerability and given the competitiveness of the Academy, her specialty, and the competition for assignments after graduation. She couldn't afford to show it. ]

You'll catch on quickly. It's not difficult. [ Pressing on his shoulder, she moved her feet to one side along with the music, counting aloud. ] One, two, three .. One - two - three. This is called a waltz. Or a slow dance.

[ It was just a coincidence. That he chose a slower song. Because faster songs were more difficult, obviously he would know that. ] Do you want to try to lead?

[She's right, it is quite simple - basic math, keeping time with the beat. When she offers to let him lead, he does so with no hesitation. He's probably not a very imaginative dancer, but he's not going to be stepping on her toes any time soon, not as long as there's a beat to count.]

This is a traditional human courtship ritual, is it not? I can understand its effectiveness.

[The ability to come into somewhat-intimate contact with a partner (while still being a socially-accepted form), and a simple enough dance step to allow for conversation, is mostly what he means. Or, basically - being close to her is kind of intoxicating, if he was inclined to use a word like that.]

[She's pleasantly surprised by his eagerness to take over, slipping easily into her role as follower. After a few moments of observation, she closed her eyes, listening to the music. It was only when he spoke that she opened them again. ]

Yes, sir. [ Her heart leaped, beating hard against her ribcage. Could he hear it? It felt so loud. ] It's a bit old fashioned, now. Usually, humans would dance closer.

[ It was amazing, the things you could notice about someone when you were this close. His shoulder was strong and broad, and he smelled faintly of something that she couldn't place. The hand in hers was slightly calloused and strong as well, but he wasn't holding her too tightly, or trying to show his dominance that way; he exuded peace. ]

[The increase in her heart rate didn't go unnoticed on his end. If nothing else, it makes him pay closer attention to her for a moment - elevated heart rate, far beyond what would be required for such easy exercise - slightly dilated pupils, breathing a little shallower than normal.]

Is that your purpose here tonight? [He's not the kind of guy to beat around the bush, really.]

[Her entire world froze for a moment and she sucked in a gasp, unable to continue dancing and focus on the conversation. Instead she stopped, though she didn't drop her arms. She just looked, studying him and considering him. Would her heart explode? Could she stand this? Would he make her leave?

Lowering her gaze slightly to the no-nonsense fabric of his sweater, Nyota nodded. ]

Yes, sir. [ That was exactly why she'd come here tonight. ]

Please, call me Spock. [It's a little too formal, even for him, to have her calling him "sir" while they have this conversation.]

As you are no longer my student, there is no direct violation of the Code of Conduct, should our relationship become more personal. [He says that carefully, knowing it's more of a technicality than anything - violating the spirit, if not the letter, but Vulcans do sometimes live on technicalities.]

However, I would not wish to do anything which might endanger your career and position in Starfleet. You are an exceptional cadet, and will make an exceptional officer.

[ Her heart plummeted into her stomach. He could likely feel it, but she'd forgotten that they were touching, forgotten anything except for what he was saying. She knew the Code of Conduct just as well as he did, if only because of this matter. She'd made a point of knowing it.

But that would not change things if he did not feel the same way.]

You don't think that my career and any decision related to it are my choice to make? Logically, that is probably the bet decision, but. How do you feel?

[ Her eyes are fierce, masking her fear and the sinking feeling in her heart. ]

[He's quiet for a long moment, studying her, his brows slightly furrowed. Finally, he holds out his hand, palm up.]

May I show you?

[After a moment of studying him in return, attempting to measure how vulnerable she truly was and the potential he had to hurt her, Nyota nodded. She had taken a risk, and that meant seeing it through, all of the way. There could be nothing that she regretted, later.]

Yes, s- .. Spock. I trust you.

[There was still no hesitation as she took his hand.]

[It's an easy thing - maybe too easy - for him to touch her face, allowing for a limited transfer of emotions. A basic mind meld, though he's reluctant to call it that. Instead, he focuses on sharing with her what he's feeling - his confusion, affection, pride, desire for her.]

[As soon as his fingers brush her face, her eyes close obediently, lips parted slightly as she took deep breaths. Or, as she tried to. It was impossible once the transfer began; the depth of emotions took her breath away and she leaned against him for stability, especially as the wave of desire washed over her, threatening to overwhelm her.

He may not appear to feel deeply, but it was impossible to claim that he did not feel at all.

Surely he could feel her desire as well, and how deeply she admired and cared for him, so much so that it was distracting at times. Once it became too much, she broke away, gasping slightly, one hand moving to rest on her forehead. ]

Spock, I.. [ How can she appeal to his sense of reason? Perhaps she can't. Perhaps she can only appeal to his heart. Crossing the room, she hesitated before resting one hand on his cheek, tipping her head to the side. ] I want to be closer to you.

[He may look composed, but he's not - not really, as his hands rest lightly at her waist.

Frankly, he has no idea what he's doing right now.]

I have never... Found myself in this position... [It's not often that words fail him. He's concerned that if he says the wrong thing now, she'll leave and whatever this is, confusing as it may be, will be gone and he'll regret it forever.]

[ Nyota couldn't help but tread with caution here; she didn't expect him to act out of anger or surprise should she do the wrong thing, but she would lose a relationship she valued over all others, and that was something she couldn't handle. Leaving now would mean leaving him and that would hurt them both. ]

Never? [ Somehow that surprises her. Perhaps others weren't as bold as she was.

Swallowing her own fear and apprehension, she moved a bit closer, molding herself to him in order to brace herself against his body. She had to stand on tiptoe to do so, but once she was able to reach, she brushed her lips against his cheek, slowly enough that he could pull away if he wished, her eyes never wavering from his. Carefully, she repeated the action on his opposite cheek, her other hand creeping to cup his ear, breath likely warm against his skin.]

:)

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