Fic: Spock's Vagina, 2/2 (Kirk/Spock)
Previous
Halfway through the following day, a crewman was apprehended near Spock’s door. To make matters worse, the man had last been conscious at the other end of the deck where Spock’s quarters were and had wandered away from the comm panel he’d been repairing. Jim subsequently ordered that all male crewmembers be posted at least one deck away from Spock. It looked like they’d have to arrange an emergency stopover at Starbase 14 instead of being able to wait out a transporter fix. Jim figured they could let all the men take a collective emergency leave until the problem was resolved. They were six days from the base, however, and Jim wondered just how much longer they could wait at this rate.
That evening, Jim sat at his desk, finishing up some late paperwork before he went over to Spock’s quarters. His communicator beeped and he picked it up distractedly.
“Kirk here.”
No one said anything. Instead, all Jim could hear was rustling like someone had accidentally hailed him from their pocket. He checked the display and froze when he saw it was Spock. Worried, Jim bolted out of his quarters and panicked fully when he saw that the posted security guard had been knocked out. Spock’s quarters were sealed, so Jim keyed in his override code and forced the doors open.
The scene he encountered would give him nightmare fuel for weeks. Three men were holding Spock down, a fourth attempting to unzip Spock’s pants. Spock’s shirt had been ripped from his body and now lay in a shredded heap at the foot of his bed. Spock was struggling against his attackers, putting up a pretty good fight but was losing momentum, weakened from prolonged effort. Spock’s left cheek was stained green from possibly being hit across the face.
Jim wasted no time in taking action. None of the men were security guards, and were thus unarmed. He pulled the first one off Spock and flipped him hard on his back. He easily picked off another holding down Spock’s arm, their attention not on Jim attacking them but mindlessly sticking to the goal of fucking Spock. Spock took his free arm and broke the grip of a third attacker as Jim neatly kicked the second one to the ground, delivering another kick to the first to make sure he stayed down. When Jim was done with that, Spock had already nerve pinched the last one. Jim pulled out his communicator.
“I need a security team to Spock’s quarters now.”
Spock had left the bed and was giving a nerve pinch to the other three groaning on the ground to keep them unconscious. Then there was silence save for heavy breathing. Spock picked up his ruined shirt, sent it through the waste disposal, and retrieved a new one from his wardrobe. Adrenaline pumped through Jim’s veins as he watched Spock right himself, and instead of the restless energy making him get angry at Spock or the world in general, it made him shake and feel sick with relief instead.
A minute or so later, three female security officers burst into the room, sizing up the situation in seconds.
“What should we do with them, Captain?” Lieutenant Beals asked, training a phaser on the four men piled on the floor, her faced lined with age and worry, which said a lot coming from a seasoned officer.
“Take them to the brig, but don’t report it just yet. We had these quarters locked down and I can’t be sure this wasn’t planned.”
“Yes, sir,” Beals said. Two nurses had arrived with stretchers and the guard who had been watching Spock’s quarters was standing dizzily to her feet. One of the nurses ran a dermal regenerator over Spock’s cheek and quietly asked him something-likely if he needed further medical assistance-but Spock shook his head. The guards and nurses managed to get all the men out within a minute.
“Orders, Captain?” Beals asked.
“I’ll confer with Mr. Spock. For now, I want all male crewmembers to be no less than two decks away from this room.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, leaving. Jim locked Spock’s quarters again and sagged against the door.
“How did this happen?” Jim asked, the words being scraped from his throat.
“The men were technicians and had the capability of overriding the system for a brief time.”
“This is impossible. How can they even sense you’re here? We have quarantine measures set up-the ship’s ventilation system is shut off from yours.”
“I believe that there is a unique factor involved. Kedities are not telepaths. It is possible that I may be unconsciously projecting a biological imperative that I cannot control, as my mind does not fully recognize or understand my new physiology.”
“So you’re, what, broadcasting ‘come hither?’”
“Essentially.”
Stupendous. Jim squashed down the urge to freak out and instead focused on getting Spock safe.
“We’ll have to relocate you because your quarters are too central to ship operations. We can set up a quarantine field in cargo bay D-”
“Jim,” Spock said, and Jim stopped at the soft, unsure sound of his voice. “Upon further review, I believe there is a solution.”
“Great, what is it?” Jim eagerly asked, hoping Spock would pull some miracle out of his ass.
“Does your offer of assistance still stand?”
Jim swallowed. “You’re not talking about me helping you learn colorful metaphors, are you?”
“No.”
“Spock-” Jim shook his head and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I know what happened freaked you out, but we’ll do better, I promise.”
“Vulcans do not ‘freak out’, Captain,” Spock said, and Jim managed a tiny smile. “What you proposed is the logical solution. I initially rejected the idea simply based on propriety, not wishing to engage in intercourse when other alternatives were available. However, I have since realized that whatever my moral attitude on the parameters of friendship, there is a moral position I had not considered. My condition is not solely affecting me-it is affecting this entire crew. If I did not have my communicator on my person tonight…those men would have committed a crime. Even if they were not to be charged, they would suffer a guilty conscience. Imagine if you had not been immune, Jim.”
Jim shuddered. He’d be just as mindless an animal as anyone else. He could have…raped Spock. He couldn’t imagine living with that, no matter how much Spock forgave him. Or god, what if it had been Bones? Or Chekov?
“Okay,” Jim said. He didn’t know if he’d ever been so uninterested in sex in his life, and wasn’t that hilarious when he’d been getting off to Spock sex fantasies for a couple of days now.
Spock headed toward the bed.
“Whoa hold on, I’m not exactly in the mood. I mean, we should probably wait a while,” Jim said, eyeing the bed. He couldn’t stop picturing Spock on it, held down, helpless. He hardly ever saw Spock like that.
“It would be illogical to wait. The longer we delay, the more dangerous our situation becomes. Of course, if you have reconsidered, then we can reform our plan.”
Jim studied Spock. His skin was healed and his clothes were righted, but he still seemed disheveled, hands loose at his sides, clasping and unclasping, slightly shifting from left to right. Spock looked worn down, stripped away, nervous. Seeing that made Jim feel strangely calm. Sure, the situation was fucked up and this was not how he would ever picture his first time with Spock, but this would fix everything and really, Spock and Uhura had stayed friends after they’d dated, so their friendship should come out just fine.
“I haven’t reconsidered. You call the shots.”
Spock nodded resolutely, like he was about to fight some bad guys, and it was sort of cute.
“Lights to 5%,” Spock ordered. The light dimmed to where Jim could barely see the outline of furniture.
“Uh, isn’t this is a little dark?” Jim asked, squinting to see what Spock was doing.
“It is sufficient for our activities,” Spock said. Jim did a mental shrug and walked to the bed, starting to feel a little turned on now that he couldn’t even see the bed. He put one knee into the mattress, now able to see Spock unzipping his pants and lowering them. Jim followed his lead, shedding his shirt and pants, figuring that Vulcans might not understand the point of taking someone else’s clothes off. When Jim was completely naked and turned his attention to Spock, he saw that Spock had not actually taken his clothes off but instead had exposed just enough of ass just to accommodate Jim.
It was all wrong. Jim had been imagining this for the past couple of days, had maybe been subconsciously wanting it for much longer than that. He was about to have sex with Spock, which was at once endlessly odd, surreal, and mind-blowingly exciting. It should be fucking amazing with choirs singing and fireworks going off. Instead, he could barely see Spock in the dimness of the room. Spock was face down on the bed, pants pulled down, and giving off the air of this being the last thing he wanted in the universe. For god’s sake, even in the darkness of the room Jim could tell how on edge Spock was.
Jim ran a soothing hand over Spock’s shoulder. Spock flinched, and that broke Jim’s resolve.
“I can’t do this,” he said, sitting at the end of the bed. When he gained enough courage to peer over at Spock, Spock had righted himself, head bowed in what looked like defeat. Jim’s heart panged at the sight of his proud friend dragged so low into something he clearly didn’t want.
“I quite understand, Captain,” Spock said.
“No, you don’t” Jim said harshly, cutting off that line of bullshit. “When I said this was no problem, I meant it. I want to help you, but Spock…I’m not going to force you.”
“Jim-” Spock began in a small voice.
“We can set up a quarantine field, post some female security guards around it, keep the men to the upper decks of the ship. We’ll be at Starbase 14 in four days, so maybe we can hold out until then-”
“Jim, I wish to continue our previous actions.”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.
“Yeah, no. We’ll find another way.”
“I have been illogical,” Spock said, voice gaining strength as he went on. “This is not the ideal solution, but it is the most logical one at our disposal. You have offered yourself with no hesitancy and yet I return that generosity with resistance.”
“Spock,” Jim said quietly, sighing and scooting closer to Spock. He hesitantly lifted a hand and touched Spock’s shoulder. “I offered because I want you to be safe and because you are definitely not the last person on Earth I’d be willing to have sex with. In fact, you rate pretty high up on the list of people I would have sex with.”
Spock sighed and leaned slightly into Jim’s touch. “Would it help if I were to confess that I find you physically attractive?”
All the remaining tension whooshed out of Jim and he ran his hand behind Spock’s shoulder and rubbed small circles into Spock’s warm back.
“We’re friends, right?” Jim said, not really asking but simply stating a fact. “We’ll just…know each other a little better.”
Spock made a small scoffing noise, and Jim grinned.
“I find that to be quite a leap.”
With a lightness he didn’t feel, Jim stopped rubbing and instead pulled gently on Spock’s back, urging Spock forward until their lips met. It was a perfunctory touch, and when Jim drew back, he licked his lips.
“See? First step.”
Jim ordered the lights to 40%, giving the room a brighter but still dim atmosphere. The next order of business was getting Spock out of his clothes. Jim caught Spock’s lips again, introducing a little tongue in the mix. Spock sighed and opened his mouth wider, carefully kissing back like he was carefully conducting an experiment. It was sweet, but they could do better than that.
Jim released Spock’s mouth and yanked his uniform shirt over his head. Wrapping his arms around Spock, he held him tight, naked chest to naked chest, and reclaimed Spock’s mouth. This time the kiss was pure heat, Jim twining his tongue with Spock’s, moaning at how good it felt. Spock seemed to shift into a higher gear, kissing with a new fervor as he moved a hand to the back of Jim’s head to hold him in place as he plundered Jim’s mouth. Now this was more like Jim’s fantasies.
Jim lowered a hand to Spock’s pants, intending to get them off, but Spock released his mouth and stopped his progress. Jim suddenly understood the full extent of Spock’s hesitancy. Jim didn’t know how he’d act in this situation, but he’d be willing to bet that even he would feel strange letting someone see him without his dick. Jim ran a considering hand over Spock’s abdomen, fingers whispering over the thick line of hair there, traveling up and across Spock’s chest. It was pretty unique being less hairy than his bedmate.
“Don’t worry; there’s no mistaking you for a woman here.”
“I understand your meaning, though I am, technically, a female,” Spock mumbled, apparently distracted by Jim’s hand caressing his chest. Jim gave him a shark-like grin and flicked a thumb over his right nipple. Spock let out a huff of air, and Jim calculated how he could get Spock to start making some seriously turned on noises. He started by lowering his mouth to the flicked nipple and teasing it with his tongue. Spock’s breathing hitched, so Jim counted that as an improvement and moved to the other nipple and sucked it into his mouth. A few long seconds of that passed before he moved on, kissing his way to Spock’s neck, breathing in the trace of asenoi oil and what might be cucumber, or at least the Vulcan equivalent of cucumber.
Tentatively, he moved to the front of Spock’s pants, and this time Spock didn’t stop him, possibly too engrossed with Jim gently sucking his neck to care. Jim peeled Spock’s pants and underwear off, Spock helping him along while making sure Jim’s mouth never strayed too far from his throat. Spock kept his legs closed, though, and Jim moved upward and latched onto Spock’s ear, licking it from lobe to pointed tip, feeling Spock shuddering delicately below him.
A pro at multitasking and subterfuge, Jim sneaked a hand over Spock’s hip and slowly lowered it until he was on the inside of Spock’s lower thigh, kneading slowly and getting Spock used to something down there. Jim finally pulled his head back to look questioningly at Spock as he ran his hand higher up the inside of Spock’s thigh. Spock, a quick study, nodded in a barely perceptible manner, then eased his legs open, letting Jim finally see what was causing all this trouble.
Spock’s vagina looked different than Jim had expected. From what he remembered of xenobiology, Vulcan females weren’t that different from human females, so Spock must have the makeup of Kedite genitals. There were no folds of skin, just a light dusting of pubic hair. The skin was flushed light green.
“The vulva of an adult Keidite female is smooth with no labia. The urethra and the vagina are combined, utilizing one vaginal opening.”
How practical of them, Jim thought, a little disappointed. He’d had a half-formed plan to go down on Spock, drive him fucking insane, but there was no clit to be found. Jim gave a mental shrug, hoping that Keidite women felt sexual pleasure at all. Hell, for all Jim knew, there was a good reason the Keidites needed a plant to help them breed-maybe it hurt like hell for them to have sex and few would chose to do it unless plant jizz forced a male on them. Spock would probably grin and bear it like the stubborn bastard he was, so Jim resigned himself to checking Spock every two seconds to make sure he was into this.
Watching Spock carefully, Jim gently slid one finger into him.
Spock cried out.
“Oh god, are you okay?” Jim asked, taking his finger back in an instant.
“I am unharmed, Jim,” Spock said, eyes wide open and pupils dilated.
“Then what the hell was that about?”
“I must apologize for not warning you.”
“Oh god, it hurts, doesn’t it? We can get some local anesthesia for this or something-”
“Jim. I am not in pain.”
“Oh. Then I’ll repeat myself: What the hell was that about?”
“The vaginal tract of a Keidite female is lined with small bundles of nerves. Each one of those bundles is similar in function to one human clitoral gland.”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that on the inside, you’ve got a whole bunch of clits?” Jim said, mouth going dry.
“Essentially, yes. You recall my mentioning that I have difficulty controlling my telepathy? Urination is a simple matter, as my excretory system is mostly my own. However, I find myself unable to control more nuanced functions of my new anatomy.”
“So basically, your brain’s not hooked up right to your new junk, thus you can’t control your reaction to pleasure.”
“Yes. I am sorry that I did not inform you earlier of this inconvenience.”
Inconvenience? More like the best thing ever. Jim smiled assuredly at Spock, moving his hand back into position at Spock’s opening.
“You’re apologizing for the wrong thing.”
“You have yet to witness the full implications of this revelation. It is a rather unsavory display.”
Jim grinned playfully, easing his finger back into Spock. Spock moaned loudly, an arm lashing up and gripping Jim’s shoulder.
“Sounds like fun.”
If Jim had been uninterested before, he was lit up like the Fourth of July now. He carefully pushed his finger in and out of Spock, feeling the tight, impossibly hot clamp, the little bumps inside that were doing their very best to make Spock come out of his skin. Spock was moaning, writhing, trying to push down and skitter away at the same time. Sometimes he would let out a keening cry, biting on his lip to try to keep the noises at bay but failing utterly. Jim almost felt sorry that Spock was unable to control what he was feeling, but that was trumped by the fact that Jim had never seen anything so wanton in his entire life. Sure, he’d been with a couple of screamers, but while their cries were usually fake and obnoxious, Spock’s were genuine and seemed to have a direct path to Jim’s cock.
When Jim added a second finger, Spock’s back arched right off the bed and he practically yelled. God, what was Spock going to do when it was Jim’s dick in there? The thought made Jim press down on his straining erection with his free hand, joining in Spock’s groans.
Spock was comfortably stretched already, so Jim kept up with the finger fucking for just a few more seconds, mostly doing it so he could watch Spock fall apart without falling apart himself, wanting to remember exactly what Spock looked like in pure ecstasy. He was entranced by Spock’s mouth, how it opened and closed as he struggled for air before calling out again, the softness of his parted lips. Jim had never realized how amazing Spock looked. It was sort of a simple fact before, like knowing that a work of art looked pretty. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about how Spock looked underneath him, how he couldn’t breathe when he looked at Spock.
Chasing away these increasingly confusing thoughts, Jim pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at Spock’s entrance. He looked at Spock questioningly, waiting for the go ahead. Spock hesitated briefly, eyebrows drawn together like he was steeling himself for some test of endurance. Finally he nodded, and Jim pushed.
Hot. Tight. Jim let out a heartfelt groan as he sank into Spock’s body. Spock cried out like something was being ripped from him, raising his legs upward and clenching around Jim with a staggering amount of strength. When Jim was buried all the way in, Spock quivering around him, Jim leaned forward and kissed Spock.
“You okay?” Jim whispered against Spock’s lips, trying not to move.
Spock panted, “You are larger than I had anticipated.”
“Mmph, so you’re saying you’re having trouble taking my big, thick cock?”
Spock managed to give him an unimpressed look. Jim waggled his eyebrows.
“You neglected to ask what size I anticipated.”
Jim chuckled. “You’re the anti-dirty talker. You’re supposed to be telling me how big I am, how good it feels to be stretched wide by my cock.”
“Forgive me. Your penis is enormous. I am astonished that it was able to fit. Perhaps it is not too late to employ local anesthesia.”
Jim laughed delightedly, almost enjoying their conversation more than the feel of Spock clenched around him, all this foreplay. Jim could feel it when Spock relaxed, letting the edges of his mouth curl upwards in that half-smile he wore when he was pleased. Jim eased out and in, wiping the amusement from Spock’s face and replacing it with intense pleasure and he moaned loudly.
Things quickly became urgent again as Jim began fucking Spock slowly, building up a firm rhythm. Each time Jim thrust in, Spock moaned deliriously, holding onto Jim’s back like he was drowning. His eyes were closed and his face was turned toward his pillow, breathing damply into it. Jim was nearly matching Spock’s heightened frenzy, eyes locked on where his cock moved in and out of Spock, pumping hard enough now to make Spock’s body rock back with each stroke. Suddenly, Spock let out a scream that built in intensity like a siren, bucking his hips crazily and choking on air, coming. A few seconds from following, Jim gasped out in shock as Spock propelled himself backwards, letting Jim slip out of him. Jim groaned at the loss, tightly gripping his leaking dick so he didn’t spontaneously come. Jim breathed slowly, eventually able to control himself and regain his senses. He turned his attention to Spock and saw that Spock was sitting upright at the head of the bed, his legs closed again and still coming, hips jerking as powerful spasms lit through him. Jim gripped himself again, feeling like he was strangling his dick, but knew that he would come from the sight alone if he didn’t control himself.
He didn’t think it could happen, but Jim was irrationally jealous of Spock’s vagina. Christ, if Jim had that, he would never leave his quarters.
Gradually Spock stilled, hair in disarray and taking in big gulps of air, eyes blown wide and appearing almost lost. Jim crawled toward Spock and touched his knee. Spock looked at him with slightly unfocused eyes.
“I-I apologize. The intensity was beyond my ability to control.”
“It’s okay,” Jim assured, moving to sit beside Spock. He didn’t quite know what to do besides sit there, because he bet Spock felt weird enough without Jim cradling him in his arms like he was a virgin being deflowered. He settled on pressing his shoulder against Spock’s in silent, manly camaraderie.
“I am not sure of my refractory period, as I never made a second attempt immediately after orgasm.”
“You’ll probably be the same as most girls everywhere.”
“And that is?”
“You know, ready to go right after, maybe with a little wait time but-was Uhura different?”
“I would not know, as we have never had intercourse.”
Jim whipped his head around to stare at Spock. “You mean you dated Uhura and never had sex with her?”
“I have not, Captain,” Spock said in such an innocent and unconcerned voice that Jim started to suspect something.
“Spock, have you ever had sex with anyone?”
“Negative.”
God, Jim was going to hyperventilate. “You’re telling me that this is your first time?”
“That is correct,” Spock said, still in that completely rational and unassuming tone.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I did not think it relevant.”
“’Not relevant?’ Spock, it’s pretty damn important.”
“Would this information had changed your mind had your known it prior to our coupling?”
Great, he was getting the logic treatment in bed. “Of course not. It’s just that I like to know things like that.”
“Vulcans do not view virginity the same way humans do. In fact, there is no word in the Vulcan language for virginity. The concept is individualized, some viewing virginity as the act of penetration while others view it as achieving orgasm.”
“Well, it’s important to me. Don’t get me wrong-I’m not that poetic about virginity, but I still think your first time should at least be something memorable, and having to fuck to stop a mating fever isn’t my idea of momentous.”
“You still believe that I am here against my will?” Spock asked, sounding almost surprised.
“Your first time shouldn’t be because you have no better choice. It should be the best choice.”
Spock went silent. Jim looked away, awkward as hell. He jumped slightly when he felt Spock touch his hand. Spock lifted the hand, running his fingers over Jim’s palm, and Jim shuddered a little, surprised at how good it felt.
“If you had been anyone else, I would have chosen the stricter quarantine procedure before even considering this measure.”
Jim’s heart swelled. “Well, you say that now, a few orgasms later.”
“Pliant as I may be, the sentiment is there regardless. Are you ready to proceed?”
“I can hammer nails in with this, so whenever you are.”
“I find it highly doubtful that you could use your erect penis as a blunt instrument,” Spock said, customary mocking tone giving way to curiosity and interest. His hand hovered inches above the subject of their conversation. “May I?”
“Spock, believe me when I say that you don’t need to ask.”
Spock nodded, curling his fingers around Jim’s cock, giving a nice, long stroke. Jim jerked in Spock’s grasp and moaned, eyes falling shut automatically. Spock’s hand was big and strong, jerking Jim slowly, possibly studying the damn thing. Jim cracked one eye open and groaned when he saw how hungry Spock looked as his eyes followed the movements of his hand. Jim suddenly wanted Spock to devour his cock, suck him dry, but unfortunately he’d shoot with the first puff of air from Spock’s mouth, so he reluctantly pulled Spock’s hand away.
“Show’ll be over too quick,” Jim said apologetically, but Spock didn’t seem concerned as he was busy getting on his knees and straddling Jim’s lap.
Before Jim could wrap his head around what Spock was going for, Spock grabbed his cock and guided it inside him again like he’d done this a hundred times before. Jim could barely hold off from coming right then and there. This time when Spock moaned, he did it in Jim’s ear, a fucking surround sound of holy fucking shit, that’s hot. Spock was still for only a moment before his hips started to do a little rock and roll beat right there.
Maybe it was the position, maybe it was the fact that Spock had already come a few times, maybe it was confidence gained from their earlier conversation, but Spock was no longer laying back and simply taking it. He was completely in control now, rising and falling with purpose, one arm pressed against the wall by Jim’s head and the other holding Jim’s shoulder, pinning him there. Jim just stared, completely overwhelmed and finding that he really, really, really loved Spock dominating him.
“Fuck,” Jim gasped.
He moved his legs so they were planted on the bed and fucked up into Spock. Spock lost some of his momentum at that, emitting a strangled cry each time Jim pounded into him, lowering his head to Jim’s shoulder and gasping impossibly hot, moist breath into Jim’s neck. Jim’s legs quickly tired from the strain and he let Spock take over. Spock renewed his efforts, grinding on Jim’s cock, his desperate moans increasing in volume as he approached another orgasm. Jim kept his eyes open, realizing that Spock was not looking at Jim directly. In fact, Jim was pretty sure Spock hadn’t look at him when they were fucking earlier either, and for some reason that bothered Jim. It was like Spock was trying to hide, even as he was up there essentially calling the shots.
“Hey,” Jim said, gently pushing on Spock’s face until he had to look at him. “Stop holding back. Let go, baby.”
Apparently, Spock had been holding back. Jim had almost forgotten that Spock was strong enough to snap him in half, but was instantly reminded of this crucial fact when Spock pulled Jim from the wall and onto his back without slipping out and with the ease of repositioning a pillow. Spock lowered his body closer to Jim’s, held himself up with both hands braced on the bed, and slammed down. Jim howled. Spock was fucking him like the Enterprise was a minute from self-destructing and he wanted to come before he died. Again and again he pounded himself on Jim’s dick, so wet now that Jim could smell him and could hear the wet slap of skin against skin as Spock rode him.
The best part was that Spock was looking at him now, eyes burning with intensity. Jim felt flayed open by look of naked want on Spock’s face, feeling like he was being stripped bare and shivering under it. Jim was almost there, and he was almost afraid to come because he might just die from it, unable to breathe properly and sure that people weren’t meant to experience this much pleasure. As he felt the familiar beginnings of orgasm, Jim decided that dying was just fine by him because Spock was coming, practically quaking on top of Jim, shouting.
“Spock,” Jim called out, wild and wrecked, coming. Spock made helpless noises against Jim’s sternum as Jim bucked over and over, filling Spock up with hot come. Eventually Jim spent all he had, but now it felt almost too much because Spock was still coming, was pressing Jim painfully into the bed, voice gone hoarse from shouting.
Finally, Spock was done. He lay on top of Jim as the both tried to catch their breaths. Jim felt Spock shivering like he was cold, even though the room was boiling hot. Realizing that he was crushing Jim, Spock groaned a little as the pulled off and repositioned himself so that he was half draped over Jim. Jim had never been a big cuddler, but after a fucking session like that, he wanted to cling to Spock like a second skin, wanted to keep that closeness.
The longer they lay there, the more awkward things became. How exactly do you act after having one of the best fucks of your life from your best friend? He couldn’t exactly kiss and whisper dirty things to Spock (though that did sound appealing), so Jim settled for a lame,
“There, that wasn’t bad at all, was it?”
Spock separated a little and sat up on one elbow to look down at Jim. Jim pillowed his head in one arm, affecting an air of calmness.
“We should be successful,” Spock agreed.
Something occurred to Jim and his eyes widened. “You didn’t think to take birth control, did you?”
Spock blushed slightly at the implication. “Unnecessary. My ovaries do not contain egg cells for fertilization.”
“Well, you win the prize for the last sentence I expected to hear today,” Jim said, feeling a small knot loosen in his chest. “Though being your baby’s daddy wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. Our children would be both smart and beautiful.”
“I will utilize the bathroom facilities first, if you are amenable.”
Jim furrowed his eyebrows at a note of detachment in Spock’s voice. “It’s your bathroom-go nuts.”
Spock left the bed, and Jim got one nice look at Spock’s bare ass as he bent over to retrieve his clothes, then Spock went into the bathroom, the door shutting with a hiss that seemed like punctuation. The room suddenly got colder. So much for post-coital cuddles.
Jim sat up on the bed, feeling like he was in some sort of waking dream. Did he just have mind blowing sex with Spock? Jim smiled a bit dopily. Yep, he’d fucked Spock all right. He could still smell sex in the air and if he wasn’t so out of it, he’d want another go right then and there from the surge of arousal that thought put into him. He could hear the sonic shower powering down, and, stumbling around with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, he blindly groped for his clothes. A minute later Spock breezed from the bathroom, every hair perfectly in place, uniform pressed, and to top it all off, a neutral expression like he expected to go back to work that very minute. Jim sat dumbly at the edge of Spock’s bed, naked with his uniform over his crotch, and felt remarkably like a used whore.
Spock’s nostrils flared slightly and he ordered the ventilation system on.
“You may make use of my bathroom,” Spock said, not unkindly, and Jim softened a little.
“Thanks.”
Spock was stripping the bed linens as Jim entered the bathroom, and Jim tried not to feel disappointed. What, was Spock supposed to sleep in sheets with sweat and come all over them? Jim shook his head and looked in the mirror, amazed at how fucked out he looked. There were no marks, but Jim’s skin was flushed and glistening with sweat and his hair looked like a chicken had run through it. Shrugging, Jim hopped in the sonic shower, sighing contentedly as the familiar musical hum filled his ears and the gentle vibrations cleansed his skin.
When he finished, he reentered Spock’s room, and it was like nothing had happened. Spock was seated at his desk writing on a PADD and the room looked and smelled like it always did. Jim straightened his uniform shirt and shyly went to sit in front of Spock. Spock looked up with a serene expression, placing the PADD down in deference to his captain.
“Well, I guess now we have to see if it…took,” Jim said.
“Yes. There is that possibility.”
Jim wanted to ask what possibility, but then it dawned on him-this might not have worked at all. After all, Jim wasn’t a Keidite. Obviously Spock understood that, so why had this not occurred to Jim before now? And also, it said more about Spock’s bravery that he knew it might not work but gave it a try anyway. Jim hoped like hell this wasn’t all for nothing, because he didn’t want to have that kind of guilt on his shoulders and still be terrified over Spock’s safety.
Jim’s communicator was still in his pocket, so he pulled it out and commed sickbay.
“McCoy here.”
“Hey Bones, I need you to come by Spock’s quarters.”
“…the hobgoblin isn’t there, right?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jim said breezily. Spock frowned at him in disapproval, and Jim smirked.
“On my way,” Bones said.
“You should have informed him of my presence in the event that I am still in heat. There is a 42.7% chance my symptoms have been alleviated, a 48.8% chance my symptoms have only abated momentarily, and a 8.5% chance they have been heightened.”
Jim felt his brain short out at ‘abated momentarily.’ Did that mean that there was a chance they had to have sex again? True, it would mean more awkwardness and he’d have to put Spock through this again, but then, he’d get to fuck Spock again. He started to get hard, just as Bones walked in.
Bones looked at Spock, Spock looked evenly back at Bones, and Bones let out the most relieved sigh Jim had ever heard. “Thank fucking god.”
*
Bones checked over Spock and grumbled about what a pain in the ass Spock was while Spock glibly returned his threats of neutering (“I believe the term is ‘spaying,’, Doctor.”) He declared Spock healthy and normal. Or, well, as normal as any guy with a newly commissioned vagina could expect.
Jim relaxed for the first time in days, lifting the quarantine and enjoying Spock being back at his post, greeting him every day and being his usual Vulcan self. The explanation given for Spock’s sudden cure was an experimental serum that Spock had developed on his own. No one really questioned it, not even Bones, who Jim honestly felt was not looking a gift horse in the mouth on this one. Only Jim, Bones, and Chapel knew about Spock’s vagina, but that was okay because it would be back to normal soon and maybe then things would truly go back to how they were before.
But then, Jim wasn’t really kidding himself. For all Jim’s talk that sex between them wouldn’t change things, things sort of did change, just in ways Jim hadn’t anticipated. For one, Spock kept himself busy, citing that he had duties to catch up on and a dick to get back, but Spock had been busy before and had always managed to make time to eat dinner with Jim. Jim sort of let that one slide because Spock had a right to feel awkward so soon after what happened, and it would only prove to be a problem if this behavior continued once Spock got his junk back and the dust from the fallout settled.
The one thing Jim couldn’t help was his own issues. He now knew what Spock (mostly) looked like naked, knew the sounds he might make during sex and the expression on his face as he came. It was pretty hard acting normally when he’d experienced something he’d been fantasizing about for a while. Jim spent half his time fighting down a hard on during work hours and in his free time his hand was constantly glued to his dick. Yet that wasn’t even the worst of it. Jim had been bowled over by lust before. Maybe not with this focused intensity, but he knew what it was like to constantly want to fuck someone.
But Jim missed Spock, which was crazy since he saw him every day. He couldn’t even put it all off on not hanging out with Spock because he’d been apart from Spock for longer before. No, Jim spent long hours thinking of how amazing Spock was, how perfect and awesome he was. He spent even longer hours imagining what would happen if he showed up at Spock’s quarters and just kissed him. He was starting to become obsessed with Spock, wanting to touch him, to sleep next to him.
It was insane, and Jim was helpless against it. He had himself a full-blown crush on Spock now, all thanks to one incredibly amazing night of sex. Well, to be fair, that had only been the catalyst. Jim knew the difference between lust and affection, and what he was feeling had left the realm of lust plausibility light years behind. Wanting to have sex with Spock again was one thing-wanting to send him flowers was an entire galaxy apart.
Jim was nervous as hell the day Spock was to implement the transporter vagina fix. Only Spock, Jim, and Bones were there. His anxiety proved to be unfounded when Spock stepped from the transporter, a satisfied expression on his face. After Bones gave him a physical (“I’ve never been so happy to see Spock’s penis in my life.”), Spock was completely back to normal. Jim invited him over for a celebratory chess game, and Spock readily agreed, easing Jim’s fear that Spock would continue avoiding him.
“You know, it’s kind of funny,” Jim said, taking one of Spock’s knights. “After all that happened, I’ve never actually seen you naked.”
“May we change the subject?” Spock asked tersely, and Jim shut his mouth unhappily. He really shouldn’t feel so upset that Spock didn’t offer to give him a peek and instead seemed intent on never talking about what happened, but there it was. After Spock left, Jim curled up on his bed, wishing he could so easily forget everything as Spock could.
*
Two weeks later they took a much-needed shore leave on Risa, a layover of five days. Jim allowed the luxury, feeling like his men deserved it after what they’d been through. To be entirely fair, it was also a selfish move, because he planned on talking Spock into taking some leave time and getting in some good bonding on warm sandy beaches. Maybe he’d be able to talk Spock into swimming and Jim could ogle Spock’s bare chest.
A day after the first rotation left, Uhura commed Jim while he was chatting with Sulu in the mess hall.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Uhura demanded, managing to bore holes into Kirk through the handheld screen.
Sulu whistled low and took his tray to sit next to Chekov. So much for guys sticking together.
“I think this chewing out would go better if I knew why I was being chewed out.”
“I might understand why Spock didn’t tell me, because he’s emotionally detached by default, but I thought you’d at least come to me about it.”
“Uhura, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Spock, going to New Vulcan.”
“What?” Jim asked sharply. Uhura stilled, the frustration gone from her face.
“He didn’t tell you. That actually makes sense.”
“Stop being vague and tell me what’s going on.”
She sighed. “I just got the form. One six month sabbatical leave request, approved by Admiral Pike.”
“That fucking bastard,” Jim said, punching his fist on the table. Six months? “He went over my head for this. Why the hell did Pike approve it?”
“Technically, I shouldn’t have gotten this notice until tomorrow, but I have a feeling that Pike forwarded it to us early. Looks like he doesn’t like what’s going on either.”
“I’m going to talk to Spock,” Jim said, standing up.
“He’s left the ship.”
“Left?”
Uhura looked agitated. “Under an hour ago. Captain, do you have an idea why Spock is doing this?”
Oh, he had an idea all right. Jim sat back down, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Sort of, though I wouldn’t have guessed he’d flee over it.”
“Do I want to know what this is about?”
Jim shifted guiltily. “Probably not. I’m guessing he didn’t leave an address where he was staying?”
“I’ve already tried comming him, he’s not answering. I’m going to scan the planet for that rat bastard and find out whatever I can.”
“You do that. I’m beaming to the surface; send me his location as soon as you find it, all right?”
“Aye, Captain.”
The closer he got to the transporter room, the angrier he became. Why was Spock leaving him? Six months was a long god damn time, especially when he didn’t even tell Jim he was leaving. Spock had seemed perfectly fine up until now. This was so unlike Spock, running away instead of facing whatever his problem was. Spock was probably the bravest person he knew. He wondered if he was being unfair and maybe this was some kind of family emergency or something, but Spock would have asked Jim for leave. No, Jim was the problem, he just knew it. Jim nearly fell over in the corridor when he was hit with a reason.
Did Spock know how Jim felt about him?
God, it made sense. Spock didn’t like that his captain had a crush on him, so he left in disgust. But no, that couldn’t be it, could it? Spock wasn’t that kind of guy. Hell, he was nice enough to Chapel even though he clearly found her feelings for him entirely unwanted, and if he could be gracious to her, then he could easily find it in himself to be kind to Jim, his best friend. Jim was getting himself some answers, that was for sure.
*
Jim stood in front of the hotel Uhura had found Spock in. She’d also grimly sent him the passenger list of a transport vessel that was to pass the Vulcan colony, Spock’s name bolded. The ship was to leave early the next morning. Spock had been planning all this, and Jim stuffed the hurt down in his chest as he marched imperiously to the reception desk.
“I need to see a guest at your hotel, a Mr. Spock.”
“First name?” the man asked in a fake, chipper voice.
“It starts with an ‘s’, but hell if either of us could pronounce it.”
The receptionist checked and giggled as he spotted Spock’s name. “Yes, yes, that is quite a tongue teaser. He’s in room-oh dear. I’m sorry, Sir, he has specifically asked that no one disturb him.”
“Oh really?” Jim asked, leaning forward on the counter threateningly. The man tilted back, a smile still plastered on his face as if it never left. “That guest is my first officer, and I’m his captain. I demand to see him.”
“Ah yes! If this is an emergency situation, then by all means.”
“’Emergency situation?’” Jim repeated, infusing the words with enough scorn to make even Cupcake flinch. “That is my first officer. If I want to be an organ grinder and need a monkey stand-in, then that’s what he’ll do. He’ll see me on my order.”
“There must be a mistake then, because the official record lists him as ‘inactive’.”
The man’s hand flew over the screen and Jim cursed internally. Damn that fucking asshole. Of course he’d be able to go inactive that fast what with the Federation bending over backwards for the Vulcan colony. They’d probably let Spock return in the middle of a red alert if he wanted. Oh, it was on, and when Jim got a hold of that Vulcan he was going to-
“No, it looks to be official, that’s strange.”
“Ah, no I suppose it’s not. I sort of let it slip who is transferring and leaving the ship what with all the missions clouding my mind.”
“Oh that is certainly understandable. Should I leave Mr. Spock a note?”
“Yeah, tell him ‘remember the Kobayashi Maru.’”
Because Jim Kirk didn’t believe in a no-win scenario.
It was laughably easy to leave the hotel, find an employee entrance, hack into the hotel’s security and get inside the main kitchens. He had to duck behind counters and make sure no one saw the captain of the Enterprise snooping in a hotel kitchen, but compared to breaking out of a Klingon warbird with nothing but a piece of wire and almost naked save for a pair of pants, this was almost fun.
He spotted a console against a wall, waited until the coast was clear, and went about hacking into the hotel’s room service list. Spock had no room service scheduled, which would probably be true his entire stay, so Jim looked at the serving carts going out and his eyes caught on an attractive array of desserts. Calling up the dishes and where they were headed, he re-routed the cart to Spock’s room, mentally apologizing to whoever would have to wait longer for their desserts. A quick shuffle and he was under the cart just in time for an employee to come in, check the schedule, and wheel Jim straight up to Spock‘s room.
When they arrived, Jim couldn’t hear anything. The employee left the cart in the middle of the room, assuming that the guest had, in fact, been expecting it. When the door slid shut behind them, Jim lifted up the cloth and looked around. The bathroom door’s light was on, so Jim waited patiently until Spock emerged, rolling from the cart and to his feet with a flourish.
“Jim,” Spock said, startled. “I had hoped that your message from the front desk would have a different interpretation.”
“You know, there is another interpretation. I’m more pissed now than I was at my disciplinary hearing and you’re being twice as annoying,” Jim said in a sweet voice, barely containing his anger.
“Do not be angry with me,” Spock said quietly, standing loosely to attention. Damn him, just damn him. It was hard to be pissed at Spock when he looked like a kid caught stealing candy at the store, somehow giving off the appearance of his ears drooping.
“Can I be hurt instead? Spock,” Jim said, stepping closer to Spock. “What the hell, man? We’re best friends and you couldn’t even leave me a note?”
“I was going to conduct a lengthy missive after a rest and meditation.”
“Oh that’s just dandy,” Jim said, instantly fed up again. “Why rush? I’m sure you can fit a manicure and massage in before getting around to it. It’s not like it’s important or anything.”
“I did not intend to hurt you, Jim,” Spock said, so earnestly that Jim couldn’t help but believe him.
“Intended or not, this is pretty fucked up. Look, why are you leaving? I could understand if it was a week or two, but six months? Is it family? Some secret Vulcan ceremony?”
“My reason for leaving is difficult to explain.”
“You’d better start talking or it’ll be difficult pulling my boot from your ass.”
Spock wandered over to the large window that covered an entire wall, looking out over the picture-perfect beach below. His face was shadowed with some deep concern.
“I would not have chosen to tell you this in person. I am leaving because I am…emotionally compromised.”
Those words instantly brought back memories of being nearly choked to death, and Jim blanched.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Jim asked, blunt. Spock stiffened then relaxed again as if remembering that he had no energy to give to the effort.
“In some ways, yes.”
It was like a punch to the gut. If Spock had been more angry, Jim might have been able to work with that, but Spock looked depressed, couldn’t look at Jim directly, couldn’t summon the energy to fight anything.
“God, whatever it is, I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim said, voice small and scratchy, so different than what he wanted to come out. He wanted to sound grand and convincing, but instead just sounded pathetic. Spock actually flinched.
“Apologies are unnecessary. You are not at fault-you are merely the motivation behind my insufficiency.”
Jim relaxed a little. Spock didn’t know about Jim’s feelings and was instead getting upset over something he thought he’d done. This Jim could deal with.
“Then what is it?”
“It is a highly complicated matter-”
“Look, I’m not a Vulcan, so I don’t have two hundred some odd years to wait around for an answer. I’m human; I’ve got half of that and therefore half the patience to wait around for you to just spill it.”
Spock hesitated before nodding in acceptance, straightening to his full height like good posture and a ready stance would help him get through anything.
“I find myself incapable of putting what happened between us out of my mind.”
Jim couldn’t help saying, “You mean the hot sex.”
“Jim,” Spock said reproachfully, and Jim held up both hands in the universal ‘I yield’ gesture. “You said that night that our friendship would easily be able to transcend whatever occurred between us. You have abided by this statement accordingly. I, however, have changed.”
“Changed?” Jim croaked.
“I have not meditated in days. My associational reading is norm minus three. My reaction time is down thirteen percent. I am no longer content with our friendship, and that is unfair to you.”
Jim felt like crawling under the bed and hiding. It felt like every other disappoint in Jim’s life. Eventually, everyone left him, everyone lost interest.
“So, what, the spark’s gone in our friendship? Who could have guessed that a vagina would come between us?”
“Jim,” Spock said, the severity in his voice stopping Jim, but it was Spock’s eyes finally looking at him that made him listen. “I am not content because I want more. I have wanted more for quite some time.”
Well, that sure as hell shut Jim up. He could only stare as Spock continued.
“I am unable to look at you without remembering what you looked like in ecstasy, what my name sounded like issuing from your lips in passion. My feelings are shameful and alarming in their intensity. I am leaving because I need control and I need to distance myself from you so that you will have time to process this information. Then after that, if I am fortunate and you are generous, you might forgive me for this trespass, for not disclosing how I felt before we became intimate.”
Jim could hardly breathe, so tight was his chest. He just wanted to cross the long distance between them, tackle Spock to the bed and show just how generous and forgiving he could be, but this was important and if he was honest with himself, he was still sort of hurt.
“It would take you six months, though? That’s a long time for me, Spock.”
“I was aware. However, six months is not too long when seeing it as a reparation of a friendship. I realize that it would be hard on you, but six months is not forever.”
Isn’t forever. Jim remembered a few months ago when they were at a conference and he couldn’t see or speak to Spock for three days because he was constantly in intense meetings about the Vulcan colony and no communication devices were allowed where Spock was. It had felt like forever, and he’d been surprised at how much he hated it and how he couldn’t just shrug it off. Throughout the days he’d feel like he was missing something. He’d think of a joke Spock would roll his eyes at or an observation about this or that ambassador and would feel lost when he realized that there was no Spock around to tell them to. The worst part was at the end of the day when there was no one to distract him and he was alone in his quarters, wishing he could just talk to Spock about nothing.
Spock had his head bowed. Jim walked right up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Spock all but jumped, surprised that Jim was this close after that revelation.
“You’re right. Friends can get through that. I know if Bones left for six months, I’d miss him like crazy and then spend the first week he’s back talking his ear off. But Spock, by your logic, I’m not your friend, because I can’t be without you that long.”
“Perhaps I can return in half that time,” Spock said, almost desperately, like Jim was torturing him, breaking him.
“You’re not getting it,” Jim said incredulously, grabbing Spock by both shoulders and making Spock look right at him. “I missed you when you had to stay quarantined in your quarters all day, and I still saw you in the evening. Hell, as pathetic and sappy as it sounds, I miss you when you first start walking away. I’m not going to let you fuck off to Vulcan because it’s illogical.”
“Illogical,” Spock said softly.
“Yes. You’re leaving because you think your feelings will go away or be less bothersome, but you see, I don’t know about Vulcans, but when humans love someone and they don’t get to see them for a long time, they do the opposite and cling harder than ever when they get them in their arms again.”
Spock looked floored, like Jim had turned into a whole different species before his eyes.
“Love?”
Jim blushed deeply, trying to deflect. “You know, have romantical feelings and stuff. Just, stay.”
Spock stared at Jim some more, then took Jim’s hands from his shoulders and held them close to his own chest. “Are you certain?”
Jim pretended he was thinking hard. Spock took it seriously, waiting tensely. Jim rolled his eyes, swooped in, and kissed Spock once, pulling back to grin roguishly at him.
“I’d just stow away and go with you to New Vulcan anyway.”
“You would not,” Spock countered in a faraway voice, half invested in the conversation and half transfixed in being close to Jim.
“Fine. But I’d coincidentally take myself a sabbatical as well. Ambassador Spock would house me. Maybe he’d treat me right.”
“That is illogical. Not only are we the same person, but I am younger and more virile.”
Jim laughed. “Oh, you stud!”
“I meant that I am younger with more energy and strength,” Spock said, flushing an adorable light green.
Jim stepped away from Spock, delighted when Spock seemed to lean toward him like a flower following the sun. Jim went over to the dessert cart.
“Come on, I wanna see what all this tastes like on a virile Vulcan. After all, it’s vitally important that I systematically check to make sure every part of you is yours and fully functional.”
Spock stood alone, face perfectly blank. Eventually, he went over to a wall console and called up room service.
“Whatcha ordering?” Jim asked, tasting whipped cream. Mmm, this was going on Spock’s cock. Maybe he’d top it off with a cherry.
“A variety of Vulcan fruits and lubricant.”
Jim snorted. “Gee, I wonder if they’ll be able to figure out what we plan on doing with that combination.”
“I tire of famine,” Spock said, turning to Jim with a familiar and much-welcomed fire. “I wish to feast.”
Spock threw Jim on the bed.
Room service would just have to deal with two horny, sticky gay men impatiently waiting for the lube.
The End
Halfway through the following day, a crewman was apprehended near Spock’s door. To make matters worse, the man had last been conscious at the other end of the deck where Spock’s quarters were and had wandered away from the comm panel he’d been repairing. Jim subsequently ordered that all male crewmembers be posted at least one deck away from Spock. It looked like they’d have to arrange an emergency stopover at Starbase 14 instead of being able to wait out a transporter fix. Jim figured they could let all the men take a collective emergency leave until the problem was resolved. They were six days from the base, however, and Jim wondered just how much longer they could wait at this rate.
That evening, Jim sat at his desk, finishing up some late paperwork before he went over to Spock’s quarters. His communicator beeped and he picked it up distractedly.
“Kirk here.”
No one said anything. Instead, all Jim could hear was rustling like someone had accidentally hailed him from their pocket. He checked the display and froze when he saw it was Spock. Worried, Jim bolted out of his quarters and panicked fully when he saw that the posted security guard had been knocked out. Spock’s quarters were sealed, so Jim keyed in his override code and forced the doors open.
The scene he encountered would give him nightmare fuel for weeks. Three men were holding Spock down, a fourth attempting to unzip Spock’s pants. Spock’s shirt had been ripped from his body and now lay in a shredded heap at the foot of his bed. Spock was struggling against his attackers, putting up a pretty good fight but was losing momentum, weakened from prolonged effort. Spock’s left cheek was stained green from possibly being hit across the face.
Jim wasted no time in taking action. None of the men were security guards, and were thus unarmed. He pulled the first one off Spock and flipped him hard on his back. He easily picked off another holding down Spock’s arm, their attention not on Jim attacking them but mindlessly sticking to the goal of fucking Spock. Spock took his free arm and broke the grip of a third attacker as Jim neatly kicked the second one to the ground, delivering another kick to the first to make sure he stayed down. When Jim was done with that, Spock had already nerve pinched the last one. Jim pulled out his communicator.
“I need a security team to Spock’s quarters now.”
Spock had left the bed and was giving a nerve pinch to the other three groaning on the ground to keep them unconscious. Then there was silence save for heavy breathing. Spock picked up his ruined shirt, sent it through the waste disposal, and retrieved a new one from his wardrobe. Adrenaline pumped through Jim’s veins as he watched Spock right himself, and instead of the restless energy making him get angry at Spock or the world in general, it made him shake and feel sick with relief instead.
A minute or so later, three female security officers burst into the room, sizing up the situation in seconds.
“What should we do with them, Captain?” Lieutenant Beals asked, training a phaser on the four men piled on the floor, her faced lined with age and worry, which said a lot coming from a seasoned officer.
“Take them to the brig, but don’t report it just yet. We had these quarters locked down and I can’t be sure this wasn’t planned.”
“Yes, sir,” Beals said. Two nurses had arrived with stretchers and the guard who had been watching Spock’s quarters was standing dizzily to her feet. One of the nurses ran a dermal regenerator over Spock’s cheek and quietly asked him something-likely if he needed further medical assistance-but Spock shook his head. The guards and nurses managed to get all the men out within a minute.
“Orders, Captain?” Beals asked.
“I’ll confer with Mr. Spock. For now, I want all male crewmembers to be no less than two decks away from this room.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, leaving. Jim locked Spock’s quarters again and sagged against the door.
“How did this happen?” Jim asked, the words being scraped from his throat.
“The men were technicians and had the capability of overriding the system for a brief time.”
“This is impossible. How can they even sense you’re here? We have quarantine measures set up-the ship’s ventilation system is shut off from yours.”
“I believe that there is a unique factor involved. Kedities are not telepaths. It is possible that I may be unconsciously projecting a biological imperative that I cannot control, as my mind does not fully recognize or understand my new physiology.”
“So you’re, what, broadcasting ‘come hither?’”
“Essentially.”
Stupendous. Jim squashed down the urge to freak out and instead focused on getting Spock safe.
“We’ll have to relocate you because your quarters are too central to ship operations. We can set up a quarantine field in cargo bay D-”
“Jim,” Spock said, and Jim stopped at the soft, unsure sound of his voice. “Upon further review, I believe there is a solution.”
“Great, what is it?” Jim eagerly asked, hoping Spock would pull some miracle out of his ass.
“Does your offer of assistance still stand?”
Jim swallowed. “You’re not talking about me helping you learn colorful metaphors, are you?”
“No.”
“Spock-” Jim shook his head and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I know what happened freaked you out, but we’ll do better, I promise.”
“Vulcans do not ‘freak out’, Captain,” Spock said, and Jim managed a tiny smile. “What you proposed is the logical solution. I initially rejected the idea simply based on propriety, not wishing to engage in intercourse when other alternatives were available. However, I have since realized that whatever my moral attitude on the parameters of friendship, there is a moral position I had not considered. My condition is not solely affecting me-it is affecting this entire crew. If I did not have my communicator on my person tonight…those men would have committed a crime. Even if they were not to be charged, they would suffer a guilty conscience. Imagine if you had not been immune, Jim.”
Jim shuddered. He’d be just as mindless an animal as anyone else. He could have…raped Spock. He couldn’t imagine living with that, no matter how much Spock forgave him. Or god, what if it had been Bones? Or Chekov?
“Okay,” Jim said. He didn’t know if he’d ever been so uninterested in sex in his life, and wasn’t that hilarious when he’d been getting off to Spock sex fantasies for a couple of days now.
Spock headed toward the bed.
“Whoa hold on, I’m not exactly in the mood. I mean, we should probably wait a while,” Jim said, eyeing the bed. He couldn’t stop picturing Spock on it, held down, helpless. He hardly ever saw Spock like that.
“It would be illogical to wait. The longer we delay, the more dangerous our situation becomes. Of course, if you have reconsidered, then we can reform our plan.”
Jim studied Spock. His skin was healed and his clothes were righted, but he still seemed disheveled, hands loose at his sides, clasping and unclasping, slightly shifting from left to right. Spock looked worn down, stripped away, nervous. Seeing that made Jim feel strangely calm. Sure, the situation was fucked up and this was not how he would ever picture his first time with Spock, but this would fix everything and really, Spock and Uhura had stayed friends after they’d dated, so their friendship should come out just fine.
“I haven’t reconsidered. You call the shots.”
Spock nodded resolutely, like he was about to fight some bad guys, and it was sort of cute.
“Lights to 5%,” Spock ordered. The light dimmed to where Jim could barely see the outline of furniture.
“Uh, isn’t this is a little dark?” Jim asked, squinting to see what Spock was doing.
“It is sufficient for our activities,” Spock said. Jim did a mental shrug and walked to the bed, starting to feel a little turned on now that he couldn’t even see the bed. He put one knee into the mattress, now able to see Spock unzipping his pants and lowering them. Jim followed his lead, shedding his shirt and pants, figuring that Vulcans might not understand the point of taking someone else’s clothes off. When Jim was completely naked and turned his attention to Spock, he saw that Spock had not actually taken his clothes off but instead had exposed just enough of ass just to accommodate Jim.
It was all wrong. Jim had been imagining this for the past couple of days, had maybe been subconsciously wanting it for much longer than that. He was about to have sex with Spock, which was at once endlessly odd, surreal, and mind-blowingly exciting. It should be fucking amazing with choirs singing and fireworks going off. Instead, he could barely see Spock in the dimness of the room. Spock was face down on the bed, pants pulled down, and giving off the air of this being the last thing he wanted in the universe. For god’s sake, even in the darkness of the room Jim could tell how on edge Spock was.
Jim ran a soothing hand over Spock’s shoulder. Spock flinched, and that broke Jim’s resolve.
“I can’t do this,” he said, sitting at the end of the bed. When he gained enough courage to peer over at Spock, Spock had righted himself, head bowed in what looked like defeat. Jim’s heart panged at the sight of his proud friend dragged so low into something he clearly didn’t want.
“I quite understand, Captain,” Spock said.
“No, you don’t” Jim said harshly, cutting off that line of bullshit. “When I said this was no problem, I meant it. I want to help you, but Spock…I’m not going to force you.”
“Jim-” Spock began in a small voice.
“We can set up a quarantine field, post some female security guards around it, keep the men to the upper decks of the ship. We’ll be at Starbase 14 in four days, so maybe we can hold out until then-”
“Jim, I wish to continue our previous actions.”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.
“Yeah, no. We’ll find another way.”
“I have been illogical,” Spock said, voice gaining strength as he went on. “This is not the ideal solution, but it is the most logical one at our disposal. You have offered yourself with no hesitancy and yet I return that generosity with resistance.”
“Spock,” Jim said quietly, sighing and scooting closer to Spock. He hesitantly lifted a hand and touched Spock’s shoulder. “I offered because I want you to be safe and because you are definitely not the last person on Earth I’d be willing to have sex with. In fact, you rate pretty high up on the list of people I would have sex with.”
Spock sighed and leaned slightly into Jim’s touch. “Would it help if I were to confess that I find you physically attractive?”
All the remaining tension whooshed out of Jim and he ran his hand behind Spock’s shoulder and rubbed small circles into Spock’s warm back.
“We’re friends, right?” Jim said, not really asking but simply stating a fact. “We’ll just…know each other a little better.”
Spock made a small scoffing noise, and Jim grinned.
“I find that to be quite a leap.”
With a lightness he didn’t feel, Jim stopped rubbing and instead pulled gently on Spock’s back, urging Spock forward until their lips met. It was a perfunctory touch, and when Jim drew back, he licked his lips.
“See? First step.”
Jim ordered the lights to 40%, giving the room a brighter but still dim atmosphere. The next order of business was getting Spock out of his clothes. Jim caught Spock’s lips again, introducing a little tongue in the mix. Spock sighed and opened his mouth wider, carefully kissing back like he was carefully conducting an experiment. It was sweet, but they could do better than that.
Jim released Spock’s mouth and yanked his uniform shirt over his head. Wrapping his arms around Spock, he held him tight, naked chest to naked chest, and reclaimed Spock’s mouth. This time the kiss was pure heat, Jim twining his tongue with Spock’s, moaning at how good it felt. Spock seemed to shift into a higher gear, kissing with a new fervor as he moved a hand to the back of Jim’s head to hold him in place as he plundered Jim’s mouth. Now this was more like Jim’s fantasies.
Jim lowered a hand to Spock’s pants, intending to get them off, but Spock released his mouth and stopped his progress. Jim suddenly understood the full extent of Spock’s hesitancy. Jim didn’t know how he’d act in this situation, but he’d be willing to bet that even he would feel strange letting someone see him without his dick. Jim ran a considering hand over Spock’s abdomen, fingers whispering over the thick line of hair there, traveling up and across Spock’s chest. It was pretty unique being less hairy than his bedmate.
“Don’t worry; there’s no mistaking you for a woman here.”
“I understand your meaning, though I am, technically, a female,” Spock mumbled, apparently distracted by Jim’s hand caressing his chest. Jim gave him a shark-like grin and flicked a thumb over his right nipple. Spock let out a huff of air, and Jim calculated how he could get Spock to start making some seriously turned on noises. He started by lowering his mouth to the flicked nipple and teasing it with his tongue. Spock’s breathing hitched, so Jim counted that as an improvement and moved to the other nipple and sucked it into his mouth. A few long seconds of that passed before he moved on, kissing his way to Spock’s neck, breathing in the trace of asenoi oil and what might be cucumber, or at least the Vulcan equivalent of cucumber.
Tentatively, he moved to the front of Spock’s pants, and this time Spock didn’t stop him, possibly too engrossed with Jim gently sucking his neck to care. Jim peeled Spock’s pants and underwear off, Spock helping him along while making sure Jim’s mouth never strayed too far from his throat. Spock kept his legs closed, though, and Jim moved upward and latched onto Spock’s ear, licking it from lobe to pointed tip, feeling Spock shuddering delicately below him.
A pro at multitasking and subterfuge, Jim sneaked a hand over Spock’s hip and slowly lowered it until he was on the inside of Spock’s lower thigh, kneading slowly and getting Spock used to something down there. Jim finally pulled his head back to look questioningly at Spock as he ran his hand higher up the inside of Spock’s thigh. Spock, a quick study, nodded in a barely perceptible manner, then eased his legs open, letting Jim finally see what was causing all this trouble.
Spock’s vagina looked different than Jim had expected. From what he remembered of xenobiology, Vulcan females weren’t that different from human females, so Spock must have the makeup of Kedite genitals. There were no folds of skin, just a light dusting of pubic hair. The skin was flushed light green.
“The vulva of an adult Keidite female is smooth with no labia. The urethra and the vagina are combined, utilizing one vaginal opening.”
How practical of them, Jim thought, a little disappointed. He’d had a half-formed plan to go down on Spock, drive him fucking insane, but there was no clit to be found. Jim gave a mental shrug, hoping that Keidite women felt sexual pleasure at all. Hell, for all Jim knew, there was a good reason the Keidites needed a plant to help them breed-maybe it hurt like hell for them to have sex and few would chose to do it unless plant jizz forced a male on them. Spock would probably grin and bear it like the stubborn bastard he was, so Jim resigned himself to checking Spock every two seconds to make sure he was into this.
Watching Spock carefully, Jim gently slid one finger into him.
Spock cried out.
“Oh god, are you okay?” Jim asked, taking his finger back in an instant.
“I am unharmed, Jim,” Spock said, eyes wide open and pupils dilated.
“Then what the hell was that about?”
“I must apologize for not warning you.”
“Oh god, it hurts, doesn’t it? We can get some local anesthesia for this or something-”
“Jim. I am not in pain.”
“Oh. Then I’ll repeat myself: What the hell was that about?”
“The vaginal tract of a Keidite female is lined with small bundles of nerves. Each one of those bundles is similar in function to one human clitoral gland.”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that on the inside, you’ve got a whole bunch of clits?” Jim said, mouth going dry.
“Essentially, yes. You recall my mentioning that I have difficulty controlling my telepathy? Urination is a simple matter, as my excretory system is mostly my own. However, I find myself unable to control more nuanced functions of my new anatomy.”
“So basically, your brain’s not hooked up right to your new junk, thus you can’t control your reaction to pleasure.”
“Yes. I am sorry that I did not inform you earlier of this inconvenience.”
Inconvenience? More like the best thing ever. Jim smiled assuredly at Spock, moving his hand back into position at Spock’s opening.
“You’re apologizing for the wrong thing.”
“You have yet to witness the full implications of this revelation. It is a rather unsavory display.”
Jim grinned playfully, easing his finger back into Spock. Spock moaned loudly, an arm lashing up and gripping Jim’s shoulder.
“Sounds like fun.”
If Jim had been uninterested before, he was lit up like the Fourth of July now. He carefully pushed his finger in and out of Spock, feeling the tight, impossibly hot clamp, the little bumps inside that were doing their very best to make Spock come out of his skin. Spock was moaning, writhing, trying to push down and skitter away at the same time. Sometimes he would let out a keening cry, biting on his lip to try to keep the noises at bay but failing utterly. Jim almost felt sorry that Spock was unable to control what he was feeling, but that was trumped by the fact that Jim had never seen anything so wanton in his entire life. Sure, he’d been with a couple of screamers, but while their cries were usually fake and obnoxious, Spock’s were genuine and seemed to have a direct path to Jim’s cock.
When Jim added a second finger, Spock’s back arched right off the bed and he practically yelled. God, what was Spock going to do when it was Jim’s dick in there? The thought made Jim press down on his straining erection with his free hand, joining in Spock’s groans.
Spock was comfortably stretched already, so Jim kept up with the finger fucking for just a few more seconds, mostly doing it so he could watch Spock fall apart without falling apart himself, wanting to remember exactly what Spock looked like in pure ecstasy. He was entranced by Spock’s mouth, how it opened and closed as he struggled for air before calling out again, the softness of his parted lips. Jim had never realized how amazing Spock looked. It was sort of a simple fact before, like knowing that a work of art looked pretty. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about how Spock looked underneath him, how he couldn’t breathe when he looked at Spock.
Chasing away these increasingly confusing thoughts, Jim pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at Spock’s entrance. He looked at Spock questioningly, waiting for the go ahead. Spock hesitated briefly, eyebrows drawn together like he was steeling himself for some test of endurance. Finally he nodded, and Jim pushed.
Hot. Tight. Jim let out a heartfelt groan as he sank into Spock’s body. Spock cried out like something was being ripped from him, raising his legs upward and clenching around Jim with a staggering amount of strength. When Jim was buried all the way in, Spock quivering around him, Jim leaned forward and kissed Spock.
“You okay?” Jim whispered against Spock’s lips, trying not to move.
Spock panted, “You are larger than I had anticipated.”
“Mmph, so you’re saying you’re having trouble taking my big, thick cock?”
Spock managed to give him an unimpressed look. Jim waggled his eyebrows.
“You neglected to ask what size I anticipated.”
Jim chuckled. “You’re the anti-dirty talker. You’re supposed to be telling me how big I am, how good it feels to be stretched wide by my cock.”
“Forgive me. Your penis is enormous. I am astonished that it was able to fit. Perhaps it is not too late to employ local anesthesia.”
Jim laughed delightedly, almost enjoying their conversation more than the feel of Spock clenched around him, all this foreplay. Jim could feel it when Spock relaxed, letting the edges of his mouth curl upwards in that half-smile he wore when he was pleased. Jim eased out and in, wiping the amusement from Spock’s face and replacing it with intense pleasure and he moaned loudly.
Things quickly became urgent again as Jim began fucking Spock slowly, building up a firm rhythm. Each time Jim thrust in, Spock moaned deliriously, holding onto Jim’s back like he was drowning. His eyes were closed and his face was turned toward his pillow, breathing damply into it. Jim was nearly matching Spock’s heightened frenzy, eyes locked on where his cock moved in and out of Spock, pumping hard enough now to make Spock’s body rock back with each stroke. Suddenly, Spock let out a scream that built in intensity like a siren, bucking his hips crazily and choking on air, coming. A few seconds from following, Jim gasped out in shock as Spock propelled himself backwards, letting Jim slip out of him. Jim groaned at the loss, tightly gripping his leaking dick so he didn’t spontaneously come. Jim breathed slowly, eventually able to control himself and regain his senses. He turned his attention to Spock and saw that Spock was sitting upright at the head of the bed, his legs closed again and still coming, hips jerking as powerful spasms lit through him. Jim gripped himself again, feeling like he was strangling his dick, but knew that he would come from the sight alone if he didn’t control himself.
He didn’t think it could happen, but Jim was irrationally jealous of Spock’s vagina. Christ, if Jim had that, he would never leave his quarters.
Gradually Spock stilled, hair in disarray and taking in big gulps of air, eyes blown wide and appearing almost lost. Jim crawled toward Spock and touched his knee. Spock looked at him with slightly unfocused eyes.
“I-I apologize. The intensity was beyond my ability to control.”
“It’s okay,” Jim assured, moving to sit beside Spock. He didn’t quite know what to do besides sit there, because he bet Spock felt weird enough without Jim cradling him in his arms like he was a virgin being deflowered. He settled on pressing his shoulder against Spock’s in silent, manly camaraderie.
“I am not sure of my refractory period, as I never made a second attempt immediately after orgasm.”
“You’ll probably be the same as most girls everywhere.”
“And that is?”
“You know, ready to go right after, maybe with a little wait time but-was Uhura different?”
“I would not know, as we have never had intercourse.”
Jim whipped his head around to stare at Spock. “You mean you dated Uhura and never had sex with her?”
“I have not, Captain,” Spock said in such an innocent and unconcerned voice that Jim started to suspect something.
“Spock, have you ever had sex with anyone?”
“Negative.”
God, Jim was going to hyperventilate. “You’re telling me that this is your first time?”
“That is correct,” Spock said, still in that completely rational and unassuming tone.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I did not think it relevant.”
“’Not relevant?’ Spock, it’s pretty damn important.”
“Would this information had changed your mind had your known it prior to our coupling?”
Great, he was getting the logic treatment in bed. “Of course not. It’s just that I like to know things like that.”
“Vulcans do not view virginity the same way humans do. In fact, there is no word in the Vulcan language for virginity. The concept is individualized, some viewing virginity as the act of penetration while others view it as achieving orgasm.”
“Well, it’s important to me. Don’t get me wrong-I’m not that poetic about virginity, but I still think your first time should at least be something memorable, and having to fuck to stop a mating fever isn’t my idea of momentous.”
“You still believe that I am here against my will?” Spock asked, sounding almost surprised.
“Your first time shouldn’t be because you have no better choice. It should be the best choice.”
Spock went silent. Jim looked away, awkward as hell. He jumped slightly when he felt Spock touch his hand. Spock lifted the hand, running his fingers over Jim’s palm, and Jim shuddered a little, surprised at how good it felt.
“If you had been anyone else, I would have chosen the stricter quarantine procedure before even considering this measure.”
Jim’s heart swelled. “Well, you say that now, a few orgasms later.”
“Pliant as I may be, the sentiment is there regardless. Are you ready to proceed?”
“I can hammer nails in with this, so whenever you are.”
“I find it highly doubtful that you could use your erect penis as a blunt instrument,” Spock said, customary mocking tone giving way to curiosity and interest. His hand hovered inches above the subject of their conversation. “May I?”
“Spock, believe me when I say that you don’t need to ask.”
Spock nodded, curling his fingers around Jim’s cock, giving a nice, long stroke. Jim jerked in Spock’s grasp and moaned, eyes falling shut automatically. Spock’s hand was big and strong, jerking Jim slowly, possibly studying the damn thing. Jim cracked one eye open and groaned when he saw how hungry Spock looked as his eyes followed the movements of his hand. Jim suddenly wanted Spock to devour his cock, suck him dry, but unfortunately he’d shoot with the first puff of air from Spock’s mouth, so he reluctantly pulled Spock’s hand away.
“Show’ll be over too quick,” Jim said apologetically, but Spock didn’t seem concerned as he was busy getting on his knees and straddling Jim’s lap.
Before Jim could wrap his head around what Spock was going for, Spock grabbed his cock and guided it inside him again like he’d done this a hundred times before. Jim could barely hold off from coming right then and there. This time when Spock moaned, he did it in Jim’s ear, a fucking surround sound of holy fucking shit, that’s hot. Spock was still for only a moment before his hips started to do a little rock and roll beat right there.
Maybe it was the position, maybe it was the fact that Spock had already come a few times, maybe it was confidence gained from their earlier conversation, but Spock was no longer laying back and simply taking it. He was completely in control now, rising and falling with purpose, one arm pressed against the wall by Jim’s head and the other holding Jim’s shoulder, pinning him there. Jim just stared, completely overwhelmed and finding that he really, really, really loved Spock dominating him.
“Fuck,” Jim gasped.
He moved his legs so they were planted on the bed and fucked up into Spock. Spock lost some of his momentum at that, emitting a strangled cry each time Jim pounded into him, lowering his head to Jim’s shoulder and gasping impossibly hot, moist breath into Jim’s neck. Jim’s legs quickly tired from the strain and he let Spock take over. Spock renewed his efforts, grinding on Jim’s cock, his desperate moans increasing in volume as he approached another orgasm. Jim kept his eyes open, realizing that Spock was not looking at Jim directly. In fact, Jim was pretty sure Spock hadn’t look at him when they were fucking earlier either, and for some reason that bothered Jim. It was like Spock was trying to hide, even as he was up there essentially calling the shots.
“Hey,” Jim said, gently pushing on Spock’s face until he had to look at him. “Stop holding back. Let go, baby.”
Apparently, Spock had been holding back. Jim had almost forgotten that Spock was strong enough to snap him in half, but was instantly reminded of this crucial fact when Spock pulled Jim from the wall and onto his back without slipping out and with the ease of repositioning a pillow. Spock lowered his body closer to Jim’s, held himself up with both hands braced on the bed, and slammed down. Jim howled. Spock was fucking him like the Enterprise was a minute from self-destructing and he wanted to come before he died. Again and again he pounded himself on Jim’s dick, so wet now that Jim could smell him and could hear the wet slap of skin against skin as Spock rode him.
The best part was that Spock was looking at him now, eyes burning with intensity. Jim felt flayed open by look of naked want on Spock’s face, feeling like he was being stripped bare and shivering under it. Jim was almost there, and he was almost afraid to come because he might just die from it, unable to breathe properly and sure that people weren’t meant to experience this much pleasure. As he felt the familiar beginnings of orgasm, Jim decided that dying was just fine by him because Spock was coming, practically quaking on top of Jim, shouting.
“Spock,” Jim called out, wild and wrecked, coming. Spock made helpless noises against Jim’s sternum as Jim bucked over and over, filling Spock up with hot come. Eventually Jim spent all he had, but now it felt almost too much because Spock was still coming, was pressing Jim painfully into the bed, voice gone hoarse from shouting.
Finally, Spock was done. He lay on top of Jim as the both tried to catch their breaths. Jim felt Spock shivering like he was cold, even though the room was boiling hot. Realizing that he was crushing Jim, Spock groaned a little as the pulled off and repositioned himself so that he was half draped over Jim. Jim had never been a big cuddler, but after a fucking session like that, he wanted to cling to Spock like a second skin, wanted to keep that closeness.
The longer they lay there, the more awkward things became. How exactly do you act after having one of the best fucks of your life from your best friend? He couldn’t exactly kiss and whisper dirty things to Spock (though that did sound appealing), so Jim settled for a lame,
“There, that wasn’t bad at all, was it?”
Spock separated a little and sat up on one elbow to look down at Jim. Jim pillowed his head in one arm, affecting an air of calmness.
“We should be successful,” Spock agreed.
Something occurred to Jim and his eyes widened. “You didn’t think to take birth control, did you?”
Spock blushed slightly at the implication. “Unnecessary. My ovaries do not contain egg cells for fertilization.”
“Well, you win the prize for the last sentence I expected to hear today,” Jim said, feeling a small knot loosen in his chest. “Though being your baby’s daddy wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. Our children would be both smart and beautiful.”
“I will utilize the bathroom facilities first, if you are amenable.”
Jim furrowed his eyebrows at a note of detachment in Spock’s voice. “It’s your bathroom-go nuts.”
Spock left the bed, and Jim got one nice look at Spock’s bare ass as he bent over to retrieve his clothes, then Spock went into the bathroom, the door shutting with a hiss that seemed like punctuation. The room suddenly got colder. So much for post-coital cuddles.
Jim sat up on the bed, feeling like he was in some sort of waking dream. Did he just have mind blowing sex with Spock? Jim smiled a bit dopily. Yep, he’d fucked Spock all right. He could still smell sex in the air and if he wasn’t so out of it, he’d want another go right then and there from the surge of arousal that thought put into him. He could hear the sonic shower powering down, and, stumbling around with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, he blindly groped for his clothes. A minute later Spock breezed from the bathroom, every hair perfectly in place, uniform pressed, and to top it all off, a neutral expression like he expected to go back to work that very minute. Jim sat dumbly at the edge of Spock’s bed, naked with his uniform over his crotch, and felt remarkably like a used whore.
Spock’s nostrils flared slightly and he ordered the ventilation system on.
“You may make use of my bathroom,” Spock said, not unkindly, and Jim softened a little.
“Thanks.”
Spock was stripping the bed linens as Jim entered the bathroom, and Jim tried not to feel disappointed. What, was Spock supposed to sleep in sheets with sweat and come all over them? Jim shook his head and looked in the mirror, amazed at how fucked out he looked. There were no marks, but Jim’s skin was flushed and glistening with sweat and his hair looked like a chicken had run through it. Shrugging, Jim hopped in the sonic shower, sighing contentedly as the familiar musical hum filled his ears and the gentle vibrations cleansed his skin.
When he finished, he reentered Spock’s room, and it was like nothing had happened. Spock was seated at his desk writing on a PADD and the room looked and smelled like it always did. Jim straightened his uniform shirt and shyly went to sit in front of Spock. Spock looked up with a serene expression, placing the PADD down in deference to his captain.
“Well, I guess now we have to see if it…took,” Jim said.
“Yes. There is that possibility.”
Jim wanted to ask what possibility, but then it dawned on him-this might not have worked at all. After all, Jim wasn’t a Keidite. Obviously Spock understood that, so why had this not occurred to Jim before now? And also, it said more about Spock’s bravery that he knew it might not work but gave it a try anyway. Jim hoped like hell this wasn’t all for nothing, because he didn’t want to have that kind of guilt on his shoulders and still be terrified over Spock’s safety.
Jim’s communicator was still in his pocket, so he pulled it out and commed sickbay.
“McCoy here.”
“Hey Bones, I need you to come by Spock’s quarters.”
“…the hobgoblin isn’t there, right?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jim said breezily. Spock frowned at him in disapproval, and Jim smirked.
“On my way,” Bones said.
“You should have informed him of my presence in the event that I am still in heat. There is a 42.7% chance my symptoms have been alleviated, a 48.8% chance my symptoms have only abated momentarily, and a 8.5% chance they have been heightened.”
Jim felt his brain short out at ‘abated momentarily.’ Did that mean that there was a chance they had to have sex again? True, it would mean more awkwardness and he’d have to put Spock through this again, but then, he’d get to fuck Spock again. He started to get hard, just as Bones walked in.
Bones looked at Spock, Spock looked evenly back at Bones, and Bones let out the most relieved sigh Jim had ever heard. “Thank fucking god.”
*
Bones checked over Spock and grumbled about what a pain in the ass Spock was while Spock glibly returned his threats of neutering (“I believe the term is ‘spaying,’, Doctor.”) He declared Spock healthy and normal. Or, well, as normal as any guy with a newly commissioned vagina could expect.
Jim relaxed for the first time in days, lifting the quarantine and enjoying Spock being back at his post, greeting him every day and being his usual Vulcan self. The explanation given for Spock’s sudden cure was an experimental serum that Spock had developed on his own. No one really questioned it, not even Bones, who Jim honestly felt was not looking a gift horse in the mouth on this one. Only Jim, Bones, and Chapel knew about Spock’s vagina, but that was okay because it would be back to normal soon and maybe then things would truly go back to how they were before.
But then, Jim wasn’t really kidding himself. For all Jim’s talk that sex between them wouldn’t change things, things sort of did change, just in ways Jim hadn’t anticipated. For one, Spock kept himself busy, citing that he had duties to catch up on and a dick to get back, but Spock had been busy before and had always managed to make time to eat dinner with Jim. Jim sort of let that one slide because Spock had a right to feel awkward so soon after what happened, and it would only prove to be a problem if this behavior continued once Spock got his junk back and the dust from the fallout settled.
The one thing Jim couldn’t help was his own issues. He now knew what Spock (mostly) looked like naked, knew the sounds he might make during sex and the expression on his face as he came. It was pretty hard acting normally when he’d experienced something he’d been fantasizing about for a while. Jim spent half his time fighting down a hard on during work hours and in his free time his hand was constantly glued to his dick. Yet that wasn’t even the worst of it. Jim had been bowled over by lust before. Maybe not with this focused intensity, but he knew what it was like to constantly want to fuck someone.
But Jim missed Spock, which was crazy since he saw him every day. He couldn’t even put it all off on not hanging out with Spock because he’d been apart from Spock for longer before. No, Jim spent long hours thinking of how amazing Spock was, how perfect and awesome he was. He spent even longer hours imagining what would happen if he showed up at Spock’s quarters and just kissed him. He was starting to become obsessed with Spock, wanting to touch him, to sleep next to him.
It was insane, and Jim was helpless against it. He had himself a full-blown crush on Spock now, all thanks to one incredibly amazing night of sex. Well, to be fair, that had only been the catalyst. Jim knew the difference between lust and affection, and what he was feeling had left the realm of lust plausibility light years behind. Wanting to have sex with Spock again was one thing-wanting to send him flowers was an entire galaxy apart.
Jim was nervous as hell the day Spock was to implement the transporter vagina fix. Only Spock, Jim, and Bones were there. His anxiety proved to be unfounded when Spock stepped from the transporter, a satisfied expression on his face. After Bones gave him a physical (“I’ve never been so happy to see Spock’s penis in my life.”), Spock was completely back to normal. Jim invited him over for a celebratory chess game, and Spock readily agreed, easing Jim’s fear that Spock would continue avoiding him.
“You know, it’s kind of funny,” Jim said, taking one of Spock’s knights. “After all that happened, I’ve never actually seen you naked.”
“May we change the subject?” Spock asked tersely, and Jim shut his mouth unhappily. He really shouldn’t feel so upset that Spock didn’t offer to give him a peek and instead seemed intent on never talking about what happened, but there it was. After Spock left, Jim curled up on his bed, wishing he could so easily forget everything as Spock could.
*
Two weeks later they took a much-needed shore leave on Risa, a layover of five days. Jim allowed the luxury, feeling like his men deserved it after what they’d been through. To be entirely fair, it was also a selfish move, because he planned on talking Spock into taking some leave time and getting in some good bonding on warm sandy beaches. Maybe he’d be able to talk Spock into swimming and Jim could ogle Spock’s bare chest.
A day after the first rotation left, Uhura commed Jim while he was chatting with Sulu in the mess hall.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Uhura demanded, managing to bore holes into Kirk through the handheld screen.
Sulu whistled low and took his tray to sit next to Chekov. So much for guys sticking together.
“I think this chewing out would go better if I knew why I was being chewed out.”
“I might understand why Spock didn’t tell me, because he’s emotionally detached by default, but I thought you’d at least come to me about it.”
“Uhura, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Spock, going to New Vulcan.”
“What?” Jim asked sharply. Uhura stilled, the frustration gone from her face.
“He didn’t tell you. That actually makes sense.”
“Stop being vague and tell me what’s going on.”
She sighed. “I just got the form. One six month sabbatical leave request, approved by Admiral Pike.”
“That fucking bastard,” Jim said, punching his fist on the table. Six months? “He went over my head for this. Why the hell did Pike approve it?”
“Technically, I shouldn’t have gotten this notice until tomorrow, but I have a feeling that Pike forwarded it to us early. Looks like he doesn’t like what’s going on either.”
“I’m going to talk to Spock,” Jim said, standing up.
“He’s left the ship.”
“Left?”
Uhura looked agitated. “Under an hour ago. Captain, do you have an idea why Spock is doing this?”
Oh, he had an idea all right. Jim sat back down, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Sort of, though I wouldn’t have guessed he’d flee over it.”
“Do I want to know what this is about?”
Jim shifted guiltily. “Probably not. I’m guessing he didn’t leave an address where he was staying?”
“I’ve already tried comming him, he’s not answering. I’m going to scan the planet for that rat bastard and find out whatever I can.”
“You do that. I’m beaming to the surface; send me his location as soon as you find it, all right?”
“Aye, Captain.”
The closer he got to the transporter room, the angrier he became. Why was Spock leaving him? Six months was a long god damn time, especially when he didn’t even tell Jim he was leaving. Spock had seemed perfectly fine up until now. This was so unlike Spock, running away instead of facing whatever his problem was. Spock was probably the bravest person he knew. He wondered if he was being unfair and maybe this was some kind of family emergency or something, but Spock would have asked Jim for leave. No, Jim was the problem, he just knew it. Jim nearly fell over in the corridor when he was hit with a reason.
Did Spock know how Jim felt about him?
God, it made sense. Spock didn’t like that his captain had a crush on him, so he left in disgust. But no, that couldn’t be it, could it? Spock wasn’t that kind of guy. Hell, he was nice enough to Chapel even though he clearly found her feelings for him entirely unwanted, and if he could be gracious to her, then he could easily find it in himself to be kind to Jim, his best friend. Jim was getting himself some answers, that was for sure.
*
Jim stood in front of the hotel Uhura had found Spock in. She’d also grimly sent him the passenger list of a transport vessel that was to pass the Vulcan colony, Spock’s name bolded. The ship was to leave early the next morning. Spock had been planning all this, and Jim stuffed the hurt down in his chest as he marched imperiously to the reception desk.
“I need to see a guest at your hotel, a Mr. Spock.”
“First name?” the man asked in a fake, chipper voice.
“It starts with an ‘s’, but hell if either of us could pronounce it.”
The receptionist checked and giggled as he spotted Spock’s name. “Yes, yes, that is quite a tongue teaser. He’s in room-oh dear. I’m sorry, Sir, he has specifically asked that no one disturb him.”
“Oh really?” Jim asked, leaning forward on the counter threateningly. The man tilted back, a smile still plastered on his face as if it never left. “That guest is my first officer, and I’m his captain. I demand to see him.”
“Ah yes! If this is an emergency situation, then by all means.”
“’Emergency situation?’” Jim repeated, infusing the words with enough scorn to make even Cupcake flinch. “That is my first officer. If I want to be an organ grinder and need a monkey stand-in, then that’s what he’ll do. He’ll see me on my order.”
“There must be a mistake then, because the official record lists him as ‘inactive’.”
The man’s hand flew over the screen and Jim cursed internally. Damn that fucking asshole. Of course he’d be able to go inactive that fast what with the Federation bending over backwards for the Vulcan colony. They’d probably let Spock return in the middle of a red alert if he wanted. Oh, it was on, and when Jim got a hold of that Vulcan he was going to-
“No, it looks to be official, that’s strange.”
“Ah, no I suppose it’s not. I sort of let it slip who is transferring and leaving the ship what with all the missions clouding my mind.”
“Oh that is certainly understandable. Should I leave Mr. Spock a note?”
“Yeah, tell him ‘remember the Kobayashi Maru.’”
Because Jim Kirk didn’t believe in a no-win scenario.
It was laughably easy to leave the hotel, find an employee entrance, hack into the hotel’s security and get inside the main kitchens. He had to duck behind counters and make sure no one saw the captain of the Enterprise snooping in a hotel kitchen, but compared to breaking out of a Klingon warbird with nothing but a piece of wire and almost naked save for a pair of pants, this was almost fun.
He spotted a console against a wall, waited until the coast was clear, and went about hacking into the hotel’s room service list. Spock had no room service scheduled, which would probably be true his entire stay, so Jim looked at the serving carts going out and his eyes caught on an attractive array of desserts. Calling up the dishes and where they were headed, he re-routed the cart to Spock’s room, mentally apologizing to whoever would have to wait longer for their desserts. A quick shuffle and he was under the cart just in time for an employee to come in, check the schedule, and wheel Jim straight up to Spock‘s room.
When they arrived, Jim couldn’t hear anything. The employee left the cart in the middle of the room, assuming that the guest had, in fact, been expecting it. When the door slid shut behind them, Jim lifted up the cloth and looked around. The bathroom door’s light was on, so Jim waited patiently until Spock emerged, rolling from the cart and to his feet with a flourish.
“Jim,” Spock said, startled. “I had hoped that your message from the front desk would have a different interpretation.”
“You know, there is another interpretation. I’m more pissed now than I was at my disciplinary hearing and you’re being twice as annoying,” Jim said in a sweet voice, barely containing his anger.
“Do not be angry with me,” Spock said quietly, standing loosely to attention. Damn him, just damn him. It was hard to be pissed at Spock when he looked like a kid caught stealing candy at the store, somehow giving off the appearance of his ears drooping.
“Can I be hurt instead? Spock,” Jim said, stepping closer to Spock. “What the hell, man? We’re best friends and you couldn’t even leave me a note?”
“I was going to conduct a lengthy missive after a rest and meditation.”
“Oh that’s just dandy,” Jim said, instantly fed up again. “Why rush? I’m sure you can fit a manicure and massage in before getting around to it. It’s not like it’s important or anything.”
“I did not intend to hurt you, Jim,” Spock said, so earnestly that Jim couldn’t help but believe him.
“Intended or not, this is pretty fucked up. Look, why are you leaving? I could understand if it was a week or two, but six months? Is it family? Some secret Vulcan ceremony?”
“My reason for leaving is difficult to explain.”
“You’d better start talking or it’ll be difficult pulling my boot from your ass.”
Spock wandered over to the large window that covered an entire wall, looking out over the picture-perfect beach below. His face was shadowed with some deep concern.
“I would not have chosen to tell you this in person. I am leaving because I am…emotionally compromised.”
Those words instantly brought back memories of being nearly choked to death, and Jim blanched.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Jim asked, blunt. Spock stiffened then relaxed again as if remembering that he had no energy to give to the effort.
“In some ways, yes.”
It was like a punch to the gut. If Spock had been more angry, Jim might have been able to work with that, but Spock looked depressed, couldn’t look at Jim directly, couldn’t summon the energy to fight anything.
“God, whatever it is, I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim said, voice small and scratchy, so different than what he wanted to come out. He wanted to sound grand and convincing, but instead just sounded pathetic. Spock actually flinched.
“Apologies are unnecessary. You are not at fault-you are merely the motivation behind my insufficiency.”
Jim relaxed a little. Spock didn’t know about Jim’s feelings and was instead getting upset over something he thought he’d done. This Jim could deal with.
“Then what is it?”
“It is a highly complicated matter-”
“Look, I’m not a Vulcan, so I don’t have two hundred some odd years to wait around for an answer. I’m human; I’ve got half of that and therefore half the patience to wait around for you to just spill it.”
Spock hesitated before nodding in acceptance, straightening to his full height like good posture and a ready stance would help him get through anything.
“I find myself incapable of putting what happened between us out of my mind.”
Jim couldn’t help saying, “You mean the hot sex.”
“Jim,” Spock said reproachfully, and Jim held up both hands in the universal ‘I yield’ gesture. “You said that night that our friendship would easily be able to transcend whatever occurred between us. You have abided by this statement accordingly. I, however, have changed.”
“Changed?” Jim croaked.
“I have not meditated in days. My associational reading is norm minus three. My reaction time is down thirteen percent. I am no longer content with our friendship, and that is unfair to you.”
Jim felt like crawling under the bed and hiding. It felt like every other disappoint in Jim’s life. Eventually, everyone left him, everyone lost interest.
“So, what, the spark’s gone in our friendship? Who could have guessed that a vagina would come between us?”
“Jim,” Spock said, the severity in his voice stopping Jim, but it was Spock’s eyes finally looking at him that made him listen. “I am not content because I want more. I have wanted more for quite some time.”
Well, that sure as hell shut Jim up. He could only stare as Spock continued.
“I am unable to look at you without remembering what you looked like in ecstasy, what my name sounded like issuing from your lips in passion. My feelings are shameful and alarming in their intensity. I am leaving because I need control and I need to distance myself from you so that you will have time to process this information. Then after that, if I am fortunate and you are generous, you might forgive me for this trespass, for not disclosing how I felt before we became intimate.”
Jim could hardly breathe, so tight was his chest. He just wanted to cross the long distance between them, tackle Spock to the bed and show just how generous and forgiving he could be, but this was important and if he was honest with himself, he was still sort of hurt.
“It would take you six months, though? That’s a long time for me, Spock.”
“I was aware. However, six months is not too long when seeing it as a reparation of a friendship. I realize that it would be hard on you, but six months is not forever.”
Isn’t forever. Jim remembered a few months ago when they were at a conference and he couldn’t see or speak to Spock for three days because he was constantly in intense meetings about the Vulcan colony and no communication devices were allowed where Spock was. It had felt like forever, and he’d been surprised at how much he hated it and how he couldn’t just shrug it off. Throughout the days he’d feel like he was missing something. He’d think of a joke Spock would roll his eyes at or an observation about this or that ambassador and would feel lost when he realized that there was no Spock around to tell them to. The worst part was at the end of the day when there was no one to distract him and he was alone in his quarters, wishing he could just talk to Spock about nothing.
Spock had his head bowed. Jim walked right up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Spock all but jumped, surprised that Jim was this close after that revelation.
“You’re right. Friends can get through that. I know if Bones left for six months, I’d miss him like crazy and then spend the first week he’s back talking his ear off. But Spock, by your logic, I’m not your friend, because I can’t be without you that long.”
“Perhaps I can return in half that time,” Spock said, almost desperately, like Jim was torturing him, breaking him.
“You’re not getting it,” Jim said incredulously, grabbing Spock by both shoulders and making Spock look right at him. “I missed you when you had to stay quarantined in your quarters all day, and I still saw you in the evening. Hell, as pathetic and sappy as it sounds, I miss you when you first start walking away. I’m not going to let you fuck off to Vulcan because it’s illogical.”
“Illogical,” Spock said softly.
“Yes. You’re leaving because you think your feelings will go away or be less bothersome, but you see, I don’t know about Vulcans, but when humans love someone and they don’t get to see them for a long time, they do the opposite and cling harder than ever when they get them in their arms again.”
Spock looked floored, like Jim had turned into a whole different species before his eyes.
“Love?”
Jim blushed deeply, trying to deflect. “You know, have romantical feelings and stuff. Just, stay.”
Spock stared at Jim some more, then took Jim’s hands from his shoulders and held them close to his own chest. “Are you certain?”
Jim pretended he was thinking hard. Spock took it seriously, waiting tensely. Jim rolled his eyes, swooped in, and kissed Spock once, pulling back to grin roguishly at him.
“I’d just stow away and go with you to New Vulcan anyway.”
“You would not,” Spock countered in a faraway voice, half invested in the conversation and half transfixed in being close to Jim.
“Fine. But I’d coincidentally take myself a sabbatical as well. Ambassador Spock would house me. Maybe he’d treat me right.”
“That is illogical. Not only are we the same person, but I am younger and more virile.”
Jim laughed. “Oh, you stud!”
“I meant that I am younger with more energy and strength,” Spock said, flushing an adorable light green.
Jim stepped away from Spock, delighted when Spock seemed to lean toward him like a flower following the sun. Jim went over to the dessert cart.
“Come on, I wanna see what all this tastes like on a virile Vulcan. After all, it’s vitally important that I systematically check to make sure every part of you is yours and fully functional.”
Spock stood alone, face perfectly blank. Eventually, he went over to a wall console and called up room service.
“Whatcha ordering?” Jim asked, tasting whipped cream. Mmm, this was going on Spock’s cock. Maybe he’d top it off with a cherry.
“A variety of Vulcan fruits and lubricant.”
Jim snorted. “Gee, I wonder if they’ll be able to figure out what we plan on doing with that combination.”
“I tire of famine,” Spock said, turning to Jim with a familiar and much-welcomed fire. “I wish to feast.”
Spock threw Jim on the bed.
Room service would just have to deal with two horny, sticky gay men impatiently waiting for the lube.
The End