Fic: An Opening Ceremony, Part IV (STXI, K/S)
Title: An Opening Ceremony, Part IV
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: K/S
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sex and object insertion
Word Count: ~1500
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme: Kirk is a virgin -- like, a LEGIT virgin, and the whole crew finds out. What I'd really like to see is a fic in which Kirk has built up a reputation accidentally, but has always been interrupted, and then, by the time he's made Captain, he decides that being a good officer and a good man is more important than "fixing" his problem. Cue alien ritual requiring a virgin, and Kirk being the only one available.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
< Part I < Part II < Part III
In the three years he'd served on the Enterprise with Captain Kirk, Spock had experienced varying combinations of emotions which he knew to be logically incompatible, but which were undeniable nonetheless. There had been fondness and indignation, dread and anticipation, rage and fear and inappropriate humour. This was not even the first time he had felt this particular combination of embarrassment and desire.
But never before had he had Kirk spread out naked and inviting before him while the confused murmurs of gossiping aliens swirled about like a sea separated from them only by the extremely thin cloth of the tent.
The cumulative effect was unsettling, to say the least. However, Spock would, as always, do his duty.
Gripping the plant in one trembling hand, he got down on his knees in between Jim's spread legs. The sight of the strong, muscled thighs made him swallow hard, and Jim's tight stomach was all but vibrating with tension. Impulsively he put his free hand over it, and Jim's penis gave a little jump.
Spock started, pulled his hand back as if burned. He felt lost, as if he'd fallen into an Old Earth coral reef with no tricorder. It was overwhelming. There was too much to take in -- too many shifting shapes and hollows, too many shades of bronze and gold and blue, each arc of the hip-bone drawing his gaze like a sculpture, each gleaming brown hair on the treasureline pushing him further into mesmerising, dizzying desire.
Spock blinked. There was a curious sort of tickle in the back of his head. He prodded absently at it, trying to remember what to do.
Do what feels right.
Yes. What felt right. He glanced down at Jim's face.
Jim was smiling up at him, eyes full of amused appreciation, but his breathing was ragged. Spock realised with a sudden stab of pride that Jim was aroused by his touch and his presence, was responding to Spock, and would respond to him in a way he had never done for anyone else before.
With renewed resolve he set the plant down and reached for the tube at Jim's side. Guiding Jim's legs gently out of the way, he dipped a finger in the clear, syrup-thick lubricant, and slowly traced the circumference of Jim's hole with the tip.
The feel of the tiny ridges and wrinkles of skin made his mouth run dry.
"Wow, Spock," Jim choked out, sounding as unsteady as Spock felt. "You don't waste any time, do you?"
Spock didn't answer, but continued to make soft, deliberate circles around the opening, until the tension in Jim's body changed and he started pushing shallowly into Spock's hand. Then he coated his index finger in the warm lube and held the tip against Jim's entrance, applying a small amount of pressure.
Jim tensed up, and then relaxed all of a sudden. Spock pressed in very gradually, stroking a quivering thigh with his other hand as Jim took deep and careful breaths.
"You are doing well, Jim," he said quietly. "Is this tolerable?"
"Yeah," Jim panted, canting his hips a little. "Yeah, go."
So Spock pushed further in, feeling the muscles give, feeling Jim's hot hole stretch and clench over his second knuckle. He'd intended to pause, but "More," Kirk said shortly, and Spock obeyed, caution giving way to controlled excitement as Kirk's head fell back and he let out an unmistakable groan of pleasure.
"Yes," Spock said suddenly, surprising himself.
Jim let out a small laugh at that, craning his neck to catch Spock's eye. "Getting into it, huh?"
"Yes," he admitted, oddly moved by Kirk's matter-of-fact tone. It was strange to speak to him so normally while Spock had his finger inside him. But not unpleasant. "I hope I may say the same for you?"
"Do that thing that you just did again and you definitely may. Geez, Spock, you talk too-- yarrgh."
"You were saying, Captain?"
"Guhh," said Kirk, and Spock felt several sorts of pleasure -- some sharp, some warm and comfortable -- flash through him all at once as he nudged the tip of his finger against the small bump of Jim's inner gland.
Then, very slowly, determined not to rush things in spite of the buzz of anticipation he could sense from beneath Jim's skin -- and despite the intrusive excitement bleeding in from the crowd outside -- he worked in a second finger, listening for the pace of Jim's breathing, imagining he could feel of the ridges of Spock's fingerprints as they scraped softly against the smooth walls of his channel.
After a time, Spock judged that Jim was sufficiently prepared to accommodate the slender plant. He withdrew his hand reluctantly. Jim was breathing harshly, and he sat up and watched with lust-clouded eyes as Spock picked up the lube and poured it freely over the spongy head of the whtt.
"God, Spock," he said hoarsely, "God, this is crazy. Hurry."
"Yes, Jim." Desire made him clumsy, but he made sure that the plant was completely coated. "Soon."
Jim moaned again and crawled closer to Spock on the rug, lying down again and spreading his legs so wantonly that Spock wanted to throw the plant aside and suck at Jim's hole till he came.
With a great effort he mastered himself. Bringing the plant up, he butted the slick head against the place where his fingers had been poised not long before. Jim's mouth was half-open and his face was flushed pink, but he did not take his eyes off Spock as he forced the small knobs and bumps on the plant into Jim's strong body. Jim's throat worked convulsively, but he did not make a sound. His penis strained, bouncing lewdly with every rut of Jim's hips. It was hard and red and extremely aroused, but Jim was pushed up on his elbows and could not raise his hand to relieve himself. The realisation sent a surge of triumph through Spock's belly.
Automatically he brought his free hand to his lips, wetting his fingers so he could curl them around Jim's cock. Jim keened and shuddered violently, and Spock clamped down hard on his own out-of-control emotions, slamming his eyes shut against the sight of the stiff, slim head of wheat squeezed by Jim's spasming rectum, of Jim's penis swelling livid in his hand.
He tried to remind himself that Jim was a virgin, that he had to be careful, take things slow, but Jim was having none of it. "Move, damnit," he gasped, and Spock, almost helpless with desire, dumbly rotated the buried stalk of wheat, feeling it twist and resist in Jim's lush, clinging channel. The wet, squelching noise it made caused his own penis to leak in needy sympathy, and Jim let out a long, low, tortured-sounding groan.
Spock gritted his teeth. He would not last much longer. Gathering his scattered wits together, he determined an angle and tilted the plant precisely so the head of the stalk would bump against Jim's prostate, and then began to thrust in earnest.
"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, fuck, Spock!" Jim shouted so loudly that the buzz of the crowd went silent all of a sudden.
Spock froze for a second in utter mortification, but then Jim's hands were tightening around his wrist and his hips were pumping hard against the stalk and into Spock's hand, the pale alien plant twitching and jerking in his small hole. Jim's face twisted in pleasure as he bit down on his lower lip, beautiful and obscene and far too much to bear.
With a sob, Spock pushed the plant hard, grinding it deep into Jim's body.
Jim screamed, and Spock came, his own penis untouched, the sight of spattered semen on Jim's belly exploding behind his eyes into white light.
*
When he came to again they were collapsed side by side on the woven mat, Jim's gasping breaths loud and hot and humid in his ear.
Spock tried to speak, and found himself unable.
There were a million different emotions and sensations to be processed and analysed, but for now all Spock could think was that if that had been Jim's first time with a partner, he might not survive what Jim would be like with experience.
His reflections were interrupted when Jim rolled over on his side and propped himself up on an elbow.
"So, Spock," he grinned widely, sounding only slightly winded. "Now that that's done, can we have sex for real?"
*
Years later, whenever a reporter asked them how they'd first gotten together, Kirk would hasten to reply.
"That's easy," he would say with a breezy laugh. "It was in our third year, after a particularly trying mission, on board the Enterprise."
"No, Captain," Spock would contradict him firmly, and favour the reporter with a distant, enigmatic gaze. "It was during an official opening ceremony, on the colony of Pla-qeth V."
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: K/S
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sex and object insertion
Word Count: ~1500
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme: Kirk is a virgin -- like, a LEGIT virgin, and the whole crew finds out. What I'd really like to see is a fic in which Kirk has built up a reputation accidentally, but has always been interrupted, and then, by the time he's made Captain, he decides that being a good officer and a good man is more important than "fixing" his problem. Cue alien ritual requiring a virgin, and Kirk being the only one available.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
< Part I < Part II < Part III
In the three years he'd served on the Enterprise with Captain Kirk, Spock had experienced varying combinations of emotions which he knew to be logically incompatible, but which were undeniable nonetheless. There had been fondness and indignation, dread and anticipation, rage and fear and inappropriate humour. This was not even the first time he had felt this particular combination of embarrassment and desire.
But never before had he had Kirk spread out naked and inviting before him while the confused murmurs of gossiping aliens swirled about like a sea separated from them only by the extremely thin cloth of the tent.
The cumulative effect was unsettling, to say the least. However, Spock would, as always, do his duty.
Gripping the plant in one trembling hand, he got down on his knees in between Jim's spread legs. The sight of the strong, muscled thighs made him swallow hard, and Jim's tight stomach was all but vibrating with tension. Impulsively he put his free hand over it, and Jim's penis gave a little jump.
Spock started, pulled his hand back as if burned. He felt lost, as if he'd fallen into an Old Earth coral reef with no tricorder. It was overwhelming. There was too much to take in -- too many shifting shapes and hollows, too many shades of bronze and gold and blue, each arc of the hip-bone drawing his gaze like a sculpture, each gleaming brown hair on the treasureline pushing him further into mesmerising, dizzying desire.
Spock blinked. There was a curious sort of tickle in the back of his head. He prodded absently at it, trying to remember what to do.
Do what feels right.
Yes. What felt right. He glanced down at Jim's face.
Jim was smiling up at him, eyes full of amused appreciation, but his breathing was ragged. Spock realised with a sudden stab of pride that Jim was aroused by his touch and his presence, was responding to Spock, and would respond to him in a way he had never done for anyone else before.
With renewed resolve he set the plant down and reached for the tube at Jim's side. Guiding Jim's legs gently out of the way, he dipped a finger in the clear, syrup-thick lubricant, and slowly traced the circumference of Jim's hole with the tip.
The feel of the tiny ridges and wrinkles of skin made his mouth run dry.
"Wow, Spock," Jim choked out, sounding as unsteady as Spock felt. "You don't waste any time, do you?"
Spock didn't answer, but continued to make soft, deliberate circles around the opening, until the tension in Jim's body changed and he started pushing shallowly into Spock's hand. Then he coated his index finger in the warm lube and held the tip against Jim's entrance, applying a small amount of pressure.
Jim tensed up, and then relaxed all of a sudden. Spock pressed in very gradually, stroking a quivering thigh with his other hand as Jim took deep and careful breaths.
"You are doing well, Jim," he said quietly. "Is this tolerable?"
"Yeah," Jim panted, canting his hips a little. "Yeah, go."
So Spock pushed further in, feeling the muscles give, feeling Jim's hot hole stretch and clench over his second knuckle. He'd intended to pause, but "More," Kirk said shortly, and Spock obeyed, caution giving way to controlled excitement as Kirk's head fell back and he let out an unmistakable groan of pleasure.
"Yes," Spock said suddenly, surprising himself.
Jim let out a small laugh at that, craning his neck to catch Spock's eye. "Getting into it, huh?"
"Yes," he admitted, oddly moved by Kirk's matter-of-fact tone. It was strange to speak to him so normally while Spock had his finger inside him. But not unpleasant. "I hope I may say the same for you?"
"Do that thing that you just did again and you definitely may. Geez, Spock, you talk too-- yarrgh."
"You were saying, Captain?"
"Guhh," said Kirk, and Spock felt several sorts of pleasure -- some sharp, some warm and comfortable -- flash through him all at once as he nudged the tip of his finger against the small bump of Jim's inner gland.
Then, very slowly, determined not to rush things in spite of the buzz of anticipation he could sense from beneath Jim's skin -- and despite the intrusive excitement bleeding in from the crowd outside -- he worked in a second finger, listening for the pace of Jim's breathing, imagining he could feel of the ridges of Spock's fingerprints as they scraped softly against the smooth walls of his channel.
After a time, Spock judged that Jim was sufficiently prepared to accommodate the slender plant. He withdrew his hand reluctantly. Jim was breathing harshly, and he sat up and watched with lust-clouded eyes as Spock picked up the lube and poured it freely over the spongy head of the whtt.
"God, Spock," he said hoarsely, "God, this is crazy. Hurry."
"Yes, Jim." Desire made him clumsy, but he made sure that the plant was completely coated. "Soon."
Jim moaned again and crawled closer to Spock on the rug, lying down again and spreading his legs so wantonly that Spock wanted to throw the plant aside and suck at Jim's hole till he came.
With a great effort he mastered himself. Bringing the plant up, he butted the slick head against the place where his fingers had been poised not long before. Jim's mouth was half-open and his face was flushed pink, but he did not take his eyes off Spock as he forced the small knobs and bumps on the plant into Jim's strong body. Jim's throat worked convulsively, but he did not make a sound. His penis strained, bouncing lewdly with every rut of Jim's hips. It was hard and red and extremely aroused, but Jim was pushed up on his elbows and could not raise his hand to relieve himself. The realisation sent a surge of triumph through Spock's belly.
Automatically he brought his free hand to his lips, wetting his fingers so he could curl them around Jim's cock. Jim keened and shuddered violently, and Spock clamped down hard on his own out-of-control emotions, slamming his eyes shut against the sight of the stiff, slim head of wheat squeezed by Jim's spasming rectum, of Jim's penis swelling livid in his hand.
He tried to remind himself that Jim was a virgin, that he had to be careful, take things slow, but Jim was having none of it. "Move, damnit," he gasped, and Spock, almost helpless with desire, dumbly rotated the buried stalk of wheat, feeling it twist and resist in Jim's lush, clinging channel. The wet, squelching noise it made caused his own penis to leak in needy sympathy, and Jim let out a long, low, tortured-sounding groan.
Spock gritted his teeth. He would not last much longer. Gathering his scattered wits together, he determined an angle and tilted the plant precisely so the head of the stalk would bump against Jim's prostate, and then began to thrust in earnest.
"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, fuck, Spock!" Jim shouted so loudly that the buzz of the crowd went silent all of a sudden.
Spock froze for a second in utter mortification, but then Jim's hands were tightening around his wrist and his hips were pumping hard against the stalk and into Spock's hand, the pale alien plant twitching and jerking in his small hole. Jim's face twisted in pleasure as he bit down on his lower lip, beautiful and obscene and far too much to bear.
With a sob, Spock pushed the plant hard, grinding it deep into Jim's body.
Jim screamed, and Spock came, his own penis untouched, the sight of spattered semen on Jim's belly exploding behind his eyes into white light.
*
When he came to again they were collapsed side by side on the woven mat, Jim's gasping breaths loud and hot and humid in his ear.
Spock tried to speak, and found himself unable.
There were a million different emotions and sensations to be processed and analysed, but for now all Spock could think was that if that had been Jim's first time with a partner, he might not survive what Jim would be like with experience.
His reflections were interrupted when Jim rolled over on his side and propped himself up on an elbow.
"So, Spock," he grinned widely, sounding only slightly winded. "Now that that's done, can we have sex for real?"
*
Years later, whenever a reporter asked them how they'd first gotten together, Kirk would hasten to reply.
"That's easy," he would say with a breezy laugh. "It was in our third year, after a particularly trying mission, on board the Enterprise."
"No, Captain," Spock would contradict him firmly, and favour the reporter with a distant, enigmatic gaze. "It was during an official opening ceremony, on the colony of Pla-qeth V."