A Wager between Teachers Part A
Title: A Wager between Teachers
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: R, NC-17
Word Count: 7437
Note 1: Response to kink meme prompt found here
Note 2: Hopefully this actually makes sense. It made sense in my mind...which ultimately means nothing to anybody else in the end. Please enjoy my poor attempts at sexy scenes and kind of sappy/schmoopy ending.
Teaching was not so bad; at least, that was what Jim Kirk was beginning to think. He was not quite to the point of saying he loved being a teacher, but he was past the point where all he could do was bitch to his first officer about the unfairness of mandatory Starfleet Academy teaching. Of course, the only reason he got over his bitching was because Spock denied him sex. Of all the things his first officer, chief science officer, and lover could possibly do to torture Jim, it was denying him sex. While most individuals supported the positive reinforcement method, Spock was a huge fan of negative reinforcement. He even went so far as to explain his thoughts on the matter in metaphor.
Jim was a puppy. Spock was Jim-Puppy’s owner who had rubbed said puppy’s nose in a mess on the carpet, only to find Jim the puppy, five minutes later, had set fire to the drapes. Jim-Puppy needed to be taught a lesson before he set the whole damn house, or ship in this instance, on fire. Therefore, it was only logical Spock deny Jim one of his favorite pastimes in the hope that he might one day learn that annoying Spock never led to good things. Since Jim enjoyed good things, he would learn to stop annoying Spock. Unfortunately, it was only a temporary effect.
No doubt, soon after he stopped complaining about becoming an instructor and Spock resumed regular sexual intercourse with him, Jim found another way to annoy his one and only.
“I bet you more cadets take my classes than yours.” Jim told Spock with total confidence.
Spock suppressed a sigh and shook his head. He knew better than to ask, but his natural curiosity always got the better of him.
“Why should that even matter?”
A mischievous grin settled on Jim’s lips as he lounged languidly across the bed.
“Because I’m turning it into a bet,” he replied easily, as if that was the most informative explanation of all time.
He really should not, but when it came to Jim, his captain and t’hy’la, Spock was often baited into situations he would later re-examine in hindsight and wonder if stupidity was contagious. This was one of those situations. The Vulcan and human pride, plus the inviting image of Jim sprawled across a bed, drew Spock into the challenge.
“What are the terms of this wager then?”
Jim fist pumped the air in triumph and rolled so he was now lying on his stomach.
“The terms are easy. Whoever has less cadets in his classes has to…” Jim drifted off a bit before picking up the line of thought again. “He has to have sex whenever and wherever the winner wants.”
His proposal was met with an arched eyebrow and mild frown. Spock, while no means a prude when it came to sex with Jim, actually had a sense of propriety and decency. The thought of what Jim might request should he lose almost caused a ripple of worry through him. Almost. Then again, so long as he won, it would not present a problem. So it was only logical that he win.
“I agree to your terms.”
As such bets were usually sealed by a handshake, at least that was the impression Spock was under, he held out his hand. Instead of extending his own hand, Jim leaned forward and stuck as much of the hand as he could in his mouth, lightly grazing over the knuckles with his teeth as he pulled away. Spock was going to protest at the blatant sexual overtones to such an action, but was interrupted when Jim grabbed his wrist and jerked him onto the bed. Now, Spock was splayed on top of Jim’s body.
“How ‘bout we seal this bet another way?” Jim purred seductively into Spock’s ear.
“You are insatiable.” replied Spock. He allowed himself to be rolled over so Jim was not straddling his waist.
“Damn straight I am. Besides, think of all that free time not dodging death and psycho aliens.” Jim lightly nipped at the tip of Spock’s ear, earning a small shudder from the body beneath him. “We’ll call this the start of that time.”
“Speaking of time, we need to be at the Academy in twenty-five point six minutes.” Despite the tongue tracing lazy lines across his jaw and warm mouth running nips and kisses across his throat, Spock was still acutely aware of the time.
“Plenty of time.”
Spock did not protest.
But, at the end of the first three days, the final cut off for adding or dropping a class, Spock was protesting a whole lot. After counting off each cadet in their classes, Jim won by a paltry two cadets. The entire evening was spent listening to Jim gloat over his victory. Spock just internally rolled his eyes and waited for whatever degrading situation Jim would come up with.
“Since I won the bet, I’ve got a free ‘get sex anytime I want’ card.” Jim chuckled into his bottle of beer as if he came up with some sort of clever joke.
Indeed, Spock examined the thoughts over their shared bond and found references to an old Terran game teaching people that it was laudable to monopolize development, resources, and find ways to send people to jail or into bankruptcy. It really was a wonder how humans managed not to kill themselves off.
“It’s just a game, Spock. Neither it, nor Santa Clause is going to be the downfall of humanity.” Jim felt the need to defend the cherished game when he heard Spock’s thoughts on it. He also felt the negative feelings Santa Clause seemed to invoke in the Vulcan. How Santa Clause got thrown in with a board game, Jim had no clue.
“Very well. I shall strive to not consider the disturbing aspect of an elderly man constantly watching and knowing all of one’s actions, and then judging one according to his standard of ‘good’ and ‘bad.’” Spock quipped as he sorted through the day’s documents.
“Okay, okay. Childhood dreams and happiness aside, point is, I won.” Jim finished the last of his papers and tossed the PADD onto the coffee table. “And I’ve decided that I’m not going to collect until later.”
“Jim, I would prefer my teaching record not include improper conduct in front of my class.”
There was no harm in throwing that out in the open. Spock would not put it past Jim to try that.
“That would be kind of exciting, wouldn’t it? But don’t worry. I’ll pick a really good time.” Jim’s emphasis was accented as his hand trailed slowly up Spock’s inner thigh.
Spock internally rolled his eyes and smacked Jim’s hand with his PADD.
“Since you are so good at biding time, you will wait,” he ordered as he resumed reading through the reports.
Shaking his hand ruefully, Jim made a “hmph” noise, but remained within his own personal space bubble. The ensuing silence was a welcome reprieve. And then it became paranoia. Jim was never this silent for so long when they were alone. He quickly finished sending his last report before setting his PADD down and looking to his side to find Jim was no longer sitting at his side.
“Jim, where-“
His question was interrupted when he felt the zipper to his pants be undone. He really needed to keep a closer eye on Jim. The pointed glare he was going for lost much of its intensity as Jim began mouthing in between his legs. It was only logical he resign himself to his fate.
“At least…at least it is not the morning.” Spock was unable to finish any other coherent thoughts as his head began to loll on to the back of the couch.
Jim broke off from his ministrations a moment to grin up at Spock.
“Who says we’re not going to do anything in the morning?”
This time, Spock managed to look down at him with fond annoyance.
“Shut up and finish.”
Jim obliged the order with a mock salute and resumed his work. And when morning came, so did another round of betting.
“I bet you more people fail out of my class than yours,” Jim challenged through a mouth full of sugary cereal. Well, it was technically some sort of healthy whole wheat crap cereal. After a generous helping of fruit and sugar, it was healthy whole wheat sugar crap cereal. Spock ate his plain. Jim wondered if he had taste buds.
“You know the answer to that question.” Spock carefully chewed the bite of cereal and swallowed before he continued. “And the structure of your bet implies you find failing cadets a positive event.”
“Well, not so much a positive event, but an indication of how tough our classes are.”
Spock considered Jim’s proposition, and as always, despite his better instincts, Spock gave in to his whims.
“And what do you propose the challenge entail?”
“Well, we’ll keep track of the number of failing students by midterm, and then we’ll see who has more failing drop-outs.” Struggling to swallow the final bite, Jim shoved his cereal bowl away from him. “If you win, I’ll suck on your fingers for an hour and anything else you want me to do to your hands. If, or rather, when I win, you have to role play as anything or anybody I want.”
It really would be nice to have some attention placed on his hands. Between holding PADDs, typing on computers, and dealing with unruly students alongside Jim, it was a highly beneficial deal. And in this instance, Spock was confident of his victory.
“I accept. However, a word of warning, Jim.” He said as he collected their bowls and rinsed them out in the sink. “Kobayashi-maru.”
A look of sudden realization hit Jim. He slapped the top of the table.
“Hey! That’s not fair! I don’t have a no-win test.”
Spock ignored Jim’s protests as he set the bowls on the dish rack to dry. He dried his hands on the nearby dish towel and then walked towards their shared bedroom.
“That is not my concern,” he called out from the room. “Jim, you best get dressed now. We need to leave in ten minutes.”
They wound up leaving in fifteen minutes, much to Spock’s annoyance. However, he still had enough time to go over the day’s lessons for a third time. Soon, he would begin running the senior cadets through the Kobayashi-maru. Even if the cadets were in the command track, and thus, a part of Jim’s classes, most became Spock’s cadets when it came time for the Kobayashi-maru. Every student both feared and eagerly anticipated Spock’s infamous test. Now, after learning that Jim Kirk had bested the test, it did not look so hopeless anymore.
But, Spock learned from the past and from Jim. He was even more careful and observant about the running programs. Before, when he usually just watched each of the technicians work, he had been confident enough in his mainframe to leave it in the hands of others. After Jim activated a subroutine in the weakest point in his system, Spock spent their first five year mission reinforcing the program and now actively monitored the system himself. If anybody tried to activate any outside program, Spock would immediately deal with it. And halfway through the year, he was definitely busy dealing with all manner of hacking from the cadets.
“Looks fun. Whatcha doin’?” Jim came up from behind and draped his arm over Spock’s shoulder.
“I am currently thwarting a poorly executed patch to the Kobayashi-maru system,” Spock answered distractedly. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he began to systematically dismantle the attempted cheat.
“Well, not everybody can be as good as me.” Jim grinned as he set a box on Spock’s desk.
“Indeed.” Spock agreed as he spared a moment to eye the simple brown box. “What is that?”
Jim poked the box and then scooted it closer to Spock as if that alone would answer the question.
“It’s lunch since I know you haven’t bothered to get any food since the cardboard we ate this morning.”
“It was whole grain fiber cereal, not cardboard. It is good for you. Doctor’s order,” answered Spock as he typed in the final code blocking the patch. When he was satisfied that the threat was dealt with, he finally gave Jim his full attention.
By now, Jim was opening the box and shoving a spork in Spock’s face.
“Look, I brought you a spork.” Jim was proud, for some inexplicable reason.
Spock arched an eyebrow and took the offered plasticware with vague amusement.
“How considerate of you.”
The salad Jim had brought to him was a simple garden salad. It was actual leafy greens with actual vegetables.
“You went off campus,” Spock stated more than asked.
Settling himself on top of Spock’s desk, Jim smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, I had some extra time to kill since I let my class out early so they could properly deal with the trauma of your test.”
The sporkful of salad paused halfway to Spock’s mouth as Jim’s explanation suddenly clicked in his mind. His eyes narrowed fractionally and he slowly set the sporkful of salad back into the box. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and arched an eyebrow. Jim softly cursed. That was the expression and posture Spock always assumed when he became wise to Jim’s shenanigans.
“You have instructed the cadets to cheat on the test,” accused Spock.
“Not so much cheating as encouraging creativity,” Jim defended. No matter how many times they had the same debate, he still stood by his actions while Spock still called it cheating.
“Your, ‘encouraging creativity,’ is nothing short of underhanded subterfuge.” Spock argued as he resumed eating his salad. It really was a delicious salad, especially after five years of synthesized food.
“Semantics,” quipped Jim. He grabbed a plump cherry tomato off the salad and popped it into his mouth. “Really, you should look at it as a good thing. It gives you the opportunity to improve your program of evil.”
Spock fished in his drawer for a tissue and handed it to Jim with a slight disapproving frown.
“Do not speak with your mouth full,” Spock lectured. “And the Kobayahi-maru is not ‘evil,’ Jim.”
Jim wiped his mouth with the tissue. He leaned forward and grinned.
“Says you. Your poor cadets practically go bald over your test.”
There was still a small smear of tomato juice on Jim’s chin. Spock resisted the urge to snatch the tissue from him and wipe it off himself.
“I have yet to see any noticeable hair loss in the cadets. And you missed a spot.” Spock indicated the location on Jim’s face and was not surprised in the least when a lascivious grin graced his features.
“What are you going to do about it?” Jim leaned forward so his face was a few inches from Spock’s.
Mimicking the motion, Spock leaned forward and paused when his lips barely grazed Jim’s skin.
“I am going to resume my duties,” whispered Spock as he leaned forward just a little further. “And I do believe you lose our bet.”
Before Jim could object, Spock tore the tissue away from Jim’s grip and roughly wiped the smear off. Handing the tissue back to Jim, Spock picked up the spork again and resumed eating. He glanced at his computer screen and noticed another attempt to hack into his system.
“Excuse me, Jim. Another ‘creative’ student is attempting to circumvent the established parameters.” Spock immediately set the spork down and began rapidly typing in counter codes.
“So how do you figure you win the bet?” Jim asked incredulously.
“I have been keeping track of the rate of failure for both our classes, and as of 1300 hours, the rate of failure was highest for my class. Since today marks the halfway mark of the year, I win.” Spock finished off the hacker and then reclined in his chair with the barest hints of smug pride. “You are going to be busy tonight. I find that all this programming is putting stress on my joints.”
Jim slid off the desk and mock pouted.
“Fine, fine. You win this one, Spock…you win this one,” acquiesced Jim. He grabbed the now empty salad box and threw it away in the trash. “Well, I have to get back to class. Dinner?”
“You wanted to try the new Persian restaurant around the corner,” Spock reminded Jim as once again, another cadet thought they were clever enough to outsmart him.
“Okay, I’ll pick something up on my way back. You going to be late again?”
“No, I should be home at the usual time.” Spock slightly inclined his head as Jim exited the room.
Once more, the room settled into silence and allowed Spock to crush another cadet’s dream of beating his test. As he continually scanned through his system, Spock mused over his victory in the bet. While betting on failure was an unorthodox bet, he was still proud he was able to best Jim. Ever since they began betting at the beginning of the school year, Jim tended to win their bets. At this moment, Jim had won eleven while Spock had won nine. Their bets had ranged from simple, whose-class-scores-better-on-a-test bet to a tactical paintball battle royal between science and command track cadets. Somehow, their competition included everything and anything they could think of. Well, it was more on Jim’s part than Spock’s, but he still went with it. Admittedly, this was turning out to be the most entertaining year of teaching he had ever gone through.
“Spooooock!”
Spock broke from his thoughts and arched an eyebrow when he heard his name being yelled throughout the hallway. It should have bothered him more than it did, but by now, he almost expected it.
Jim busted through his door and slammed it shut behind him with a Cheshire cat grin. Spock made no move, even when Jim locked the door.
“Hey, Spock, guess what?” Jim asked. “What does it mean if more cadets fail your classes than mine?”
A brief look of confusion crossed Spock’s features before he finally realized what Jim was getting at.
“Your students have a higher GPA at a quarter mark.”
Nodding his head eagerly, Jim sauntered forward until he could lean over Spock’s chair and gloat.
“Indeed they do, Commander. And that means you have to get me off right here, right now.” To emphasize his point, Jim hooked a finger under the waist of Spock’s pants and straddled his lap. “So, Commander, what are you going to do? And need I remind you your next class starts in less than twenty minutes?”
“I do not think that wise, considering you are still in your uniform.” Spock ran his hands down Jim’s sides before resting on his waist. “You are enjoying this.”
Jim did not know if he was referring to the situation or if Spock was referring to the way he was rubbing slow circles lower and lower. So, he just settled for a guttural purr. Spock continued teasing until he could feel Jim’s arousal.
“Mm, you’re doing pretty good…’Course, you had a good teacher. I’m an instructor in a league of his own,” Jim mumbled into Spock’s shoulder. He was unable to see the Vulcan’s typical arched brow.
“A bold statement. You think you are the better instructor?” Spock asked as he lightly nipped at the nape of Jim’s neck. “I have to disagree.”
There was some sort of mewling noise from Jim’s throat as he did not want to sit still anymore. He bucked his hips into Spock’s lap. Spock rewarded him with an iron-grip on his hips, halting any movement. Jim whined.
“You cannot quantify who is the better instructor.” Spock’s hand rubbed the front of Jim’s pants, roughly eliciting a moan.
“But I can,” Jim gasped airily when Spock shifted his weight in his seat. “I’m winning more bets than you.”
“That does not indicate you a better instructor since…Turn around…since the term, ‘better’ is itself non-quantifiable in this instance.”
Jim made no objection and turned around as quickly as he could. Spock allowed himself a small smile, hidden when he pressed his face into the back of Jim’s uniform. He reached around and grabbed one of Jim’s hands.
“I’m not you, Spock. I don’t get off with my hands.” Despite his protests, the bulge in his pants became far more noticeable as Spock roughly stroked his hand. “And we can make ‘better’ quantifiable by determining what we want it to mean.”
Nuzzling Jim’s back, Spock maneuvered his fingers so his thumb rested over the fine joints in the back of Jim’s hand. Beginning with a gentle squeeze, Spock suddenly applied much more pressure. He was pleased when he felt Jim freeze and get even harder.
“Spock, what did you do?” Jim half asked, half moaned.
“I am going to show you why I am the better instructor,” Spock answered simply. He made sure to keep squeezing the pressure point. “You will not be able to move until I say so. I will ‘jerk you off,’ as you crudely put it without touching you below the neck.”
Jim tried to jerk away, but he could not get his body to fully cooperate, not that he actually wanted to. “Meld sex takes too long. You’ve got class.”
Ignoring Jim’s attempt to pander to his lover’s logical nature, Spock used his free hand to settle across Jim’s face. His fingers ghosted over the usual meld points to settle elsewhere. It took little imagination for Spock to know Jim looked surprised and was conveying his anticipation with a frantic thrum through their bond.
He did not bother with any mantra to force his mind to concentrate. Spock simply stimulated the nerve points with a little telepathic nudge and he felt Jim buck and spasm against his lap as he came. Upon releasing Jim’s hand, Spock allowed Jim to slump back against him. Spock placed a line of chaste kisses along the side of Jim’s neck.
“Not only have I filled my end of the bargain, you have soiled the front of your pants.”
Part B
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: R, NC-17
Word Count: 7437
Note 1: Response to kink meme prompt found here
Note 2: Hopefully this actually makes sense. It made sense in my mind...which ultimately means nothing to anybody else in the end. Please enjoy my poor attempts at sexy scenes and kind of sappy/schmoopy ending.
Teaching was not so bad; at least, that was what Jim Kirk was beginning to think. He was not quite to the point of saying he loved being a teacher, but he was past the point where all he could do was bitch to his first officer about the unfairness of mandatory Starfleet Academy teaching. Of course, the only reason he got over his bitching was because Spock denied him sex. Of all the things his first officer, chief science officer, and lover could possibly do to torture Jim, it was denying him sex. While most individuals supported the positive reinforcement method, Spock was a huge fan of negative reinforcement. He even went so far as to explain his thoughts on the matter in metaphor.
Jim was a puppy. Spock was Jim-Puppy’s owner who had rubbed said puppy’s nose in a mess on the carpet, only to find Jim the puppy, five minutes later, had set fire to the drapes. Jim-Puppy needed to be taught a lesson before he set the whole damn house, or ship in this instance, on fire. Therefore, it was only logical Spock deny Jim one of his favorite pastimes in the hope that he might one day learn that annoying Spock never led to good things. Since Jim enjoyed good things, he would learn to stop annoying Spock. Unfortunately, it was only a temporary effect.
No doubt, soon after he stopped complaining about becoming an instructor and Spock resumed regular sexual intercourse with him, Jim found another way to annoy his one and only.
“I bet you more cadets take my classes than yours.” Jim told Spock with total confidence.
Spock suppressed a sigh and shook his head. He knew better than to ask, but his natural curiosity always got the better of him.
“Why should that even matter?”
A mischievous grin settled on Jim’s lips as he lounged languidly across the bed.
“Because I’m turning it into a bet,” he replied easily, as if that was the most informative explanation of all time.
He really should not, but when it came to Jim, his captain and t’hy’la, Spock was often baited into situations he would later re-examine in hindsight and wonder if stupidity was contagious. This was one of those situations. The Vulcan and human pride, plus the inviting image of Jim sprawled across a bed, drew Spock into the challenge.
“What are the terms of this wager then?”
Jim fist pumped the air in triumph and rolled so he was now lying on his stomach.
“The terms are easy. Whoever has less cadets in his classes has to…” Jim drifted off a bit before picking up the line of thought again. “He has to have sex whenever and wherever the winner wants.”
His proposal was met with an arched eyebrow and mild frown. Spock, while no means a prude when it came to sex with Jim, actually had a sense of propriety and decency. The thought of what Jim might request should he lose almost caused a ripple of worry through him. Almost. Then again, so long as he won, it would not present a problem. So it was only logical that he win.
“I agree to your terms.”
As such bets were usually sealed by a handshake, at least that was the impression Spock was under, he held out his hand. Instead of extending his own hand, Jim leaned forward and stuck as much of the hand as he could in his mouth, lightly grazing over the knuckles with his teeth as he pulled away. Spock was going to protest at the blatant sexual overtones to such an action, but was interrupted when Jim grabbed his wrist and jerked him onto the bed. Now, Spock was splayed on top of Jim’s body.
“How ‘bout we seal this bet another way?” Jim purred seductively into Spock’s ear.
“You are insatiable.” replied Spock. He allowed himself to be rolled over so Jim was not straddling his waist.
“Damn straight I am. Besides, think of all that free time not dodging death and psycho aliens.” Jim lightly nipped at the tip of Spock’s ear, earning a small shudder from the body beneath him. “We’ll call this the start of that time.”
“Speaking of time, we need to be at the Academy in twenty-five point six minutes.” Despite the tongue tracing lazy lines across his jaw and warm mouth running nips and kisses across his throat, Spock was still acutely aware of the time.
“Plenty of time.”
Spock did not protest.
But, at the end of the first three days, the final cut off for adding or dropping a class, Spock was protesting a whole lot. After counting off each cadet in their classes, Jim won by a paltry two cadets. The entire evening was spent listening to Jim gloat over his victory. Spock just internally rolled his eyes and waited for whatever degrading situation Jim would come up with.
“Since I won the bet, I’ve got a free ‘get sex anytime I want’ card.” Jim chuckled into his bottle of beer as if he came up with some sort of clever joke.
Indeed, Spock examined the thoughts over their shared bond and found references to an old Terran game teaching people that it was laudable to monopolize development, resources, and find ways to send people to jail or into bankruptcy. It really was a wonder how humans managed not to kill themselves off.
“It’s just a game, Spock. Neither it, nor Santa Clause is going to be the downfall of humanity.” Jim felt the need to defend the cherished game when he heard Spock’s thoughts on it. He also felt the negative feelings Santa Clause seemed to invoke in the Vulcan. How Santa Clause got thrown in with a board game, Jim had no clue.
“Very well. I shall strive to not consider the disturbing aspect of an elderly man constantly watching and knowing all of one’s actions, and then judging one according to his standard of ‘good’ and ‘bad.’” Spock quipped as he sorted through the day’s documents.
“Okay, okay. Childhood dreams and happiness aside, point is, I won.” Jim finished the last of his papers and tossed the PADD onto the coffee table. “And I’ve decided that I’m not going to collect until later.”
“Jim, I would prefer my teaching record not include improper conduct in front of my class.”
There was no harm in throwing that out in the open. Spock would not put it past Jim to try that.
“That would be kind of exciting, wouldn’t it? But don’t worry. I’ll pick a really good time.” Jim’s emphasis was accented as his hand trailed slowly up Spock’s inner thigh.
Spock internally rolled his eyes and smacked Jim’s hand with his PADD.
“Since you are so good at biding time, you will wait,” he ordered as he resumed reading through the reports.
Shaking his hand ruefully, Jim made a “hmph” noise, but remained within his own personal space bubble. The ensuing silence was a welcome reprieve. And then it became paranoia. Jim was never this silent for so long when they were alone. He quickly finished sending his last report before setting his PADD down and looking to his side to find Jim was no longer sitting at his side.
“Jim, where-“
His question was interrupted when he felt the zipper to his pants be undone. He really needed to keep a closer eye on Jim. The pointed glare he was going for lost much of its intensity as Jim began mouthing in between his legs. It was only logical he resign himself to his fate.
“At least…at least it is not the morning.” Spock was unable to finish any other coherent thoughts as his head began to loll on to the back of the couch.
Jim broke off from his ministrations a moment to grin up at Spock.
“Who says we’re not going to do anything in the morning?”
This time, Spock managed to look down at him with fond annoyance.
“Shut up and finish.”
Jim obliged the order with a mock salute and resumed his work. And when morning came, so did another round of betting.
“I bet you more people fail out of my class than yours,” Jim challenged through a mouth full of sugary cereal. Well, it was technically some sort of healthy whole wheat crap cereal. After a generous helping of fruit and sugar, it was healthy whole wheat sugar crap cereal. Spock ate his plain. Jim wondered if he had taste buds.
“You know the answer to that question.” Spock carefully chewed the bite of cereal and swallowed before he continued. “And the structure of your bet implies you find failing cadets a positive event.”
“Well, not so much a positive event, but an indication of how tough our classes are.”
Spock considered Jim’s proposition, and as always, despite his better instincts, Spock gave in to his whims.
“And what do you propose the challenge entail?”
“Well, we’ll keep track of the number of failing students by midterm, and then we’ll see who has more failing drop-outs.” Struggling to swallow the final bite, Jim shoved his cereal bowl away from him. “If you win, I’ll suck on your fingers for an hour and anything else you want me to do to your hands. If, or rather, when I win, you have to role play as anything or anybody I want.”
It really would be nice to have some attention placed on his hands. Between holding PADDs, typing on computers, and dealing with unruly students alongside Jim, it was a highly beneficial deal. And in this instance, Spock was confident of his victory.
“I accept. However, a word of warning, Jim.” He said as he collected their bowls and rinsed them out in the sink. “Kobayashi-maru.”
A look of sudden realization hit Jim. He slapped the top of the table.
“Hey! That’s not fair! I don’t have a no-win test.”
Spock ignored Jim’s protests as he set the bowls on the dish rack to dry. He dried his hands on the nearby dish towel and then walked towards their shared bedroom.
“That is not my concern,” he called out from the room. “Jim, you best get dressed now. We need to leave in ten minutes.”
They wound up leaving in fifteen minutes, much to Spock’s annoyance. However, he still had enough time to go over the day’s lessons for a third time. Soon, he would begin running the senior cadets through the Kobayashi-maru. Even if the cadets were in the command track, and thus, a part of Jim’s classes, most became Spock’s cadets when it came time for the Kobayashi-maru. Every student both feared and eagerly anticipated Spock’s infamous test. Now, after learning that Jim Kirk had bested the test, it did not look so hopeless anymore.
But, Spock learned from the past and from Jim. He was even more careful and observant about the running programs. Before, when he usually just watched each of the technicians work, he had been confident enough in his mainframe to leave it in the hands of others. After Jim activated a subroutine in the weakest point in his system, Spock spent their first five year mission reinforcing the program and now actively monitored the system himself. If anybody tried to activate any outside program, Spock would immediately deal with it. And halfway through the year, he was definitely busy dealing with all manner of hacking from the cadets.
“Looks fun. Whatcha doin’?” Jim came up from behind and draped his arm over Spock’s shoulder.
“I am currently thwarting a poorly executed patch to the Kobayashi-maru system,” Spock answered distractedly. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he began to systematically dismantle the attempted cheat.
“Well, not everybody can be as good as me.” Jim grinned as he set a box on Spock’s desk.
“Indeed.” Spock agreed as he spared a moment to eye the simple brown box. “What is that?”
Jim poked the box and then scooted it closer to Spock as if that alone would answer the question.
“It’s lunch since I know you haven’t bothered to get any food since the cardboard we ate this morning.”
“It was whole grain fiber cereal, not cardboard. It is good for you. Doctor’s order,” answered Spock as he typed in the final code blocking the patch. When he was satisfied that the threat was dealt with, he finally gave Jim his full attention.
By now, Jim was opening the box and shoving a spork in Spock’s face.
“Look, I brought you a spork.” Jim was proud, for some inexplicable reason.
Spock arched an eyebrow and took the offered plasticware with vague amusement.
“How considerate of you.”
The salad Jim had brought to him was a simple garden salad. It was actual leafy greens with actual vegetables.
“You went off campus,” Spock stated more than asked.
Settling himself on top of Spock’s desk, Jim smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, I had some extra time to kill since I let my class out early so they could properly deal with the trauma of your test.”
The sporkful of salad paused halfway to Spock’s mouth as Jim’s explanation suddenly clicked in his mind. His eyes narrowed fractionally and he slowly set the sporkful of salad back into the box. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and arched an eyebrow. Jim softly cursed. That was the expression and posture Spock always assumed when he became wise to Jim’s shenanigans.
“You have instructed the cadets to cheat on the test,” accused Spock.
“Not so much cheating as encouraging creativity,” Jim defended. No matter how many times they had the same debate, he still stood by his actions while Spock still called it cheating.
“Your, ‘encouraging creativity,’ is nothing short of underhanded subterfuge.” Spock argued as he resumed eating his salad. It really was a delicious salad, especially after five years of synthesized food.
“Semantics,” quipped Jim. He grabbed a plump cherry tomato off the salad and popped it into his mouth. “Really, you should look at it as a good thing. It gives you the opportunity to improve your program of evil.”
Spock fished in his drawer for a tissue and handed it to Jim with a slight disapproving frown.
“Do not speak with your mouth full,” Spock lectured. “And the Kobayahi-maru is not ‘evil,’ Jim.”
Jim wiped his mouth with the tissue. He leaned forward and grinned.
“Says you. Your poor cadets practically go bald over your test.”
There was still a small smear of tomato juice on Jim’s chin. Spock resisted the urge to snatch the tissue from him and wipe it off himself.
“I have yet to see any noticeable hair loss in the cadets. And you missed a spot.” Spock indicated the location on Jim’s face and was not surprised in the least when a lascivious grin graced his features.
“What are you going to do about it?” Jim leaned forward so his face was a few inches from Spock’s.
Mimicking the motion, Spock leaned forward and paused when his lips barely grazed Jim’s skin.
“I am going to resume my duties,” whispered Spock as he leaned forward just a little further. “And I do believe you lose our bet.”
Before Jim could object, Spock tore the tissue away from Jim’s grip and roughly wiped the smear off. Handing the tissue back to Jim, Spock picked up the spork again and resumed eating. He glanced at his computer screen and noticed another attempt to hack into his system.
“Excuse me, Jim. Another ‘creative’ student is attempting to circumvent the established parameters.” Spock immediately set the spork down and began rapidly typing in counter codes.
“So how do you figure you win the bet?” Jim asked incredulously.
“I have been keeping track of the rate of failure for both our classes, and as of 1300 hours, the rate of failure was highest for my class. Since today marks the halfway mark of the year, I win.” Spock finished off the hacker and then reclined in his chair with the barest hints of smug pride. “You are going to be busy tonight. I find that all this programming is putting stress on my joints.”
Jim slid off the desk and mock pouted.
“Fine, fine. You win this one, Spock…you win this one,” acquiesced Jim. He grabbed the now empty salad box and threw it away in the trash. “Well, I have to get back to class. Dinner?”
“You wanted to try the new Persian restaurant around the corner,” Spock reminded Jim as once again, another cadet thought they were clever enough to outsmart him.
“Okay, I’ll pick something up on my way back. You going to be late again?”
“No, I should be home at the usual time.” Spock slightly inclined his head as Jim exited the room.
Once more, the room settled into silence and allowed Spock to crush another cadet’s dream of beating his test. As he continually scanned through his system, Spock mused over his victory in the bet. While betting on failure was an unorthodox bet, he was still proud he was able to best Jim. Ever since they began betting at the beginning of the school year, Jim tended to win their bets. At this moment, Jim had won eleven while Spock had won nine. Their bets had ranged from simple, whose-class-scores-better-on-a-test bet to a tactical paintball battle royal between science and command track cadets. Somehow, their competition included everything and anything they could think of. Well, it was more on Jim’s part than Spock’s, but he still went with it. Admittedly, this was turning out to be the most entertaining year of teaching he had ever gone through.
“Spooooock!”
Spock broke from his thoughts and arched an eyebrow when he heard his name being yelled throughout the hallway. It should have bothered him more than it did, but by now, he almost expected it.
Jim busted through his door and slammed it shut behind him with a Cheshire cat grin. Spock made no move, even when Jim locked the door.
“Hey, Spock, guess what?” Jim asked. “What does it mean if more cadets fail your classes than mine?”
A brief look of confusion crossed Spock’s features before he finally realized what Jim was getting at.
“Your students have a higher GPA at a quarter mark.”
Nodding his head eagerly, Jim sauntered forward until he could lean over Spock’s chair and gloat.
“Indeed they do, Commander. And that means you have to get me off right here, right now.” To emphasize his point, Jim hooked a finger under the waist of Spock’s pants and straddled his lap. “So, Commander, what are you going to do? And need I remind you your next class starts in less than twenty minutes?”
“I do not think that wise, considering you are still in your uniform.” Spock ran his hands down Jim’s sides before resting on his waist. “You are enjoying this.”
Jim did not know if he was referring to the situation or if Spock was referring to the way he was rubbing slow circles lower and lower. So, he just settled for a guttural purr. Spock continued teasing until he could feel Jim’s arousal.
“Mm, you’re doing pretty good…’Course, you had a good teacher. I’m an instructor in a league of his own,” Jim mumbled into Spock’s shoulder. He was unable to see the Vulcan’s typical arched brow.
“A bold statement. You think you are the better instructor?” Spock asked as he lightly nipped at the nape of Jim’s neck. “I have to disagree.”
There was some sort of mewling noise from Jim’s throat as he did not want to sit still anymore. He bucked his hips into Spock’s lap. Spock rewarded him with an iron-grip on his hips, halting any movement. Jim whined.
“You cannot quantify who is the better instructor.” Spock’s hand rubbed the front of Jim’s pants, roughly eliciting a moan.
“But I can,” Jim gasped airily when Spock shifted his weight in his seat. “I’m winning more bets than you.”
“That does not indicate you a better instructor since…Turn around…since the term, ‘better’ is itself non-quantifiable in this instance.”
Jim made no objection and turned around as quickly as he could. Spock allowed himself a small smile, hidden when he pressed his face into the back of Jim’s uniform. He reached around and grabbed one of Jim’s hands.
“I’m not you, Spock. I don’t get off with my hands.” Despite his protests, the bulge in his pants became far more noticeable as Spock roughly stroked his hand. “And we can make ‘better’ quantifiable by determining what we want it to mean.”
Nuzzling Jim’s back, Spock maneuvered his fingers so his thumb rested over the fine joints in the back of Jim’s hand. Beginning with a gentle squeeze, Spock suddenly applied much more pressure. He was pleased when he felt Jim freeze and get even harder.
“Spock, what did you do?” Jim half asked, half moaned.
“I am going to show you why I am the better instructor,” Spock answered simply. He made sure to keep squeezing the pressure point. “You will not be able to move until I say so. I will ‘jerk you off,’ as you crudely put it without touching you below the neck.”
Jim tried to jerk away, but he could not get his body to fully cooperate, not that he actually wanted to. “Meld sex takes too long. You’ve got class.”
Ignoring Jim’s attempt to pander to his lover’s logical nature, Spock used his free hand to settle across Jim’s face. His fingers ghosted over the usual meld points to settle elsewhere. It took little imagination for Spock to know Jim looked surprised and was conveying his anticipation with a frantic thrum through their bond.
He did not bother with any mantra to force his mind to concentrate. Spock simply stimulated the nerve points with a little telepathic nudge and he felt Jim buck and spasm against his lap as he came. Upon releasing Jim’s hand, Spock allowed Jim to slump back against him. Spock placed a line of chaste kisses along the side of Jim’s neck.
“Not only have I filled my end of the bargain, you have soiled the front of your pants.”
Part B