Title: In Which the Enterprise Crew Plays I've Never (6/6)
Title: In Which the Enterprise Crew Plays I've Never (6/6)
Author: Liz
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Standing in the middle of Spock's room, naked save for the regulation pants that clung to his legs, Jim was almost impossibly attractive.
Notes/Warnings: To anyone still following for this - so sorry for the wait, and hope ya enjoy. <3
- - -
Chekov, McCoy, Scotty, and Sulu were seated together in the mess hall, poking half-heartedly at their breakfast. Although nothing on their plates was moving, each man - with the exception of Chekov, who was his normal perky self - looked as though there were tentacles crawling around in his stomach.
McCoy muttered something unhappy, as though unable to find anything coherent. There was silence for a long moment, until Chekov raised his head, looking far less hungover than he had any right to be.
“Vell?” He glanced around expectantly, his voice practically chipper, and McCoy outright glared at him. “Vat do ve theenk?”
There was an odd gleam to his eye, and everyone blinked.
“About what, Pav?”
Sulu was the first to speak, his voice softer than normal, and McCoy quickly looked at him with suspicion. Instead of answering the question, Chekov just blushed slightly, smiling at Sulu with an unbelievably endearing expression.
His eyes almost boggling from his head, Scotty cautiously set down his sandwich - something that had rarely happened before. “Gentlemen,” he began hesitantly, looking back and forth between them, “You… did you…”
But Sulu and Chekov made no response, completely oblivious to him. There might as well have been little hearts floating around their heads, and McCoy stared at them both in shock, an expression of pain crossing his face.
“Oh, mercy,” he whispered, paling slightly. “You two, really?”
Chekov shot him a dirty look, then took Sulu’s hand across the table, ignoring the noticeable blush that spread across the pilot’s face. “I am talking about de keptin and Mr. Spock, of course,” he continued haughtily, completely ignoring McCoy's comment. “Do you theenk they did eet?”
Interrupted mid-bite, Scotty actually choked on his sandwich, and McCoy yelped, putting his hands over his ears. Even Sulu winced, looking a little disconcerted.
“I mean,” Chekov continued, as though unaware of everyone’s unhappiness, “If they deed do eet -“
McCoy cut him off with a pained noise, his expression almost fearful. “I don’t want to think about it.” His hands were still firmly in place on his ears, and Scotty quickly nodded in agreement. “My head already hurts -”
“Vell, I want to theenk about eet,” Chekov muttered, his expression set at stubborn. “If dey have finally hooked up, den eet was my drinking game dat made eet possible.”
With those words, Chekov outright smirked, seeming quite pleased with himself, and Scotty and McCoy shared twin looks of despair.
Sulu, however, was simply beaming at Chekov. “Whatever you say, Pav,” he said softly, affection clearly written all over his face. “You know best.”
As they made love eyes at each other across the table, McCoy's face went from pale to green, and he actually stood up. “Excuse me while I to go hypo myself,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at Chekov, and turned to leave.
Laughing, Chekov reached out and tugged on McCoy's hand, trying to get him to sit again, oblivious to the flush that was sneaking across the doctor’s skin.
“Ve vill behave, doctor, do not worry.”
Scotty gave the pair one last dubious look, but went back to eating his sandwich.
“Sure ya will,” Bones muttered unhappily, letting himself be seated again. “Like I believe that.”
As they continued to eat their breakfast, Bones stoically ignored what was happening, Chekov and Sulu snuck glances at each other, and Scotty focused all his attention on the sandwich at hand. There was no more talk about Spock and Kirk, and everyone - other than Chekov - seemed quite grateful for this.
Of course, unbeknownst to the four men, Chekov had every right to be pleased with himself.
- - -
“Clothes, Spock,” Jim was gasping, tugging somewhat frantically at Spock’s shirt. “Too many of them.”
As Jim’s fingers brushed against his skin, sending an echo of need throughout his body, Spock firmly slammed down his mental barriers, hoping he'd be able to keep them in place. Such a connection during sex would be frighteningly intimate, and Spock didn’t want to expose either of them to that just yet.
“Naked is good, Spock, come on.”
His hands shaking slightly, Spock stepped back and hurried to comply, wondering where his veneer of calm had gone. He hesitated before removing his shirt, distracted by the sight of Jim’s wet lips, every nerve in his body screaming to have them on his skin.
“Spock.”
Spock blinked, and raised his gaze to Jim’s achingly blue eyes.
“You really are beautiful.”
Feeling himself flush several shades of green, Spock immediately glanced away, unable to deal with the cartwheels his stomach was indulging in.
“No, come on, look at me, please -”
There was a needy tone to Jim’s voice, and Spock’s rebellious legs made another attempt to give out. Swallowing hard, he raised his eyes, and Jim must have seen what he wanted, because he pulled Spock close.
“Just trust me, alright? Let yourself go, just for a bit, and let me take care of you.”
“Jim, I have already given my consent. Whatever you want -”
“No, no, forget about me. What do you want?”
Spock stared at him helplessly, his mind providing images of Jim on his knees, on his back, on top of Spock, with not a stitch of clothing between them -
“Spock?”
“I would like you to remove your clothes.”
The request came without warning, and Spock felt his skin burn, unable to believe he’d just said that.
He was about to speak again, perhaps to apologize for his brash words, but Jim was already yanking his shoes and socks off, jumping awkwardly from foot to foot, cursing as he tried to keep his balance. Spock felt his lips twitch just slightly, realizing that, despite the unusual circumstances, this was still very much Jim in front of him.
The humour left as Jim yanked his shirt clean off his body, leaving him bare-chested and beautiful, a slight sheen of sweat sparkling on his skin. Spock felt his already high temperature climb to impressive levels, and he knew that his fingers were twitching.
"Spock?"
Standing in the middle of Spock’s room, naked save for the regulation pants that clung to his legs, Jim was almost impossible attractive, and Spock took a moment to breathe deeply. He slowly stepped forward, leaving mere inches between them, then shivered as Jim took his hands again, their fingers sliding together.
“Feel like finishing the job?”
Both the touch and words sent a surge of heat through him, and Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s fingers, realizing how very much he would like them both to be naked.
“Spock?”
Although Vulcans did not like to kneel, Spock figured he could make an exception.
With a last long look at Jim, hoping to convey that he was not doing this lightly, Spock slid to his knees, cautiously bringing his hands to Jim’s hips. He locked eyes with Jim, and watched as Jim squirmed, an enticing flush travelling across his skin.
“Spock,” Jim managed shakily, staring down at him, his eyes wide. “You -”
If the lost look on Jim’s face was any indication, Spock was temporarily in control again, and it gave him a small measure of comfort. He dug his fingers into Jim’s hips, wanting to feel skin instead of fabric.
“You wish these to be gone, Jim?”
Jim only seemed capable of nodding, and Spock set his clever fingers to work, pulling Jim’s pants down with little trouble. By the time they had pooled on the floor, Jim was breathing heavily, and Spock cautiously let his fingers trail along the front of Jim’s underwear.
There was a strangled sound from above him.
“Up, get up here -”
There were hands on Spock’s shoulders, fingers digging into his shirt, but Spock found he didn’t want to move quite yet.
“In a moment,” he said softly, tracing the front of Jim’s underwear again, fascinated despite himself. Jim made another strangled noise, but said nothing, and Spock realized he had permission to explore.
Remembering what Uhura had once done to him, Spock leaned forward and rested his mouth over the bulge he found, his fingers digging into the bare skin of Jim’s legs. When Jim gasped something indiscernible, Spock breathed cautiously against the material, wanting to draw more of those sounds -
“Spock, get up here.”
Jim’s voice was breathless, and Spock let himself be pulled to his feet, his hands held in a death grip.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
When Spock shook his head, his skin tingling at the rasp in Jim’s voice, Jim kissed him roughly, pulling him close and holding tight. Spock kissed him back, his head almost spinning as Jim’s tongue darted into his mouth, then flicked against his lips.
“Clothes off, come on -”
Suddenly realizing how quickly this was becoming something he no longer had any hope of controlling, Spock felt a new surge of unease travel through body. Jim must have sensed Spock’s concern, for he pressed a soothing kiss against the corner of Spock’s mouth.
“I said I’d catch you,” he said softly, and Spock felt a shiver at the promise there. “You don’t always have to control yourself.”
“I am a Vulcan -”
“You’re also half-human.” Jim stroked his fingers along Spock’s hand, obviously having noticed how much Spock enjoyed that, and smiled as Spock shifted slightly. “I’m asking you to enjoy this with both parts of you. I know you can.”
And that was such quintessential Jim. Always asking for more than anyone thought they were capable of giving - and always there to help as they stumbled their way to somewhere they’d never thought to reach.
Reminding himself that, if there was anyone in the universe he could trust, it was this man, Spock slowly nodded.
With a blinding smile, Jim squeezed Spock’s hands, navigating him backwards until Spock’s knees bumped against the edge of the bed. Once there, Jim began nibbling at Spock's lips, teasingly slipping his fingers under the bottom edges of Spock’s shirt, and trailing them along soft skin.
Spock inhaled sharply, his body not knowing what to do with the new sensation, and Jim locked eyes with him, an obvious question there. When Spock remained silent, his mind racing to find the right words, Jim just smirked and dropped to his knees, pressing a kiss to that bare strip of skin.
Spock found himself clinging to Jim’s shoulders, trying to process the image in front of him. His body quivering all over, Spock concentrated on keeping his mental shields firm, fighting with every inch of his being to stay in control.
Then, achingly slow, Jim nibbled his way up Spock’s body, and Spock couldn’t stop a shaky exhalation. His fingers tightened on Jim’s shoulders, and Jim murmured contentedly as he licked across Spock’s collarbone, pulling Spock’s shirt over his head.
Dropping it to the floor, Jim stepped back and stared at him, and Spock fought the irrational urge to wrap his arms around himself. He calmly held Jim’s gaze, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t silently freaking out inside.
“You really don’t get it.”
Jim said the words softly, and Spock blinked at him, not understanding.
“Spock, you could have me wrapped around your little finger in a heartbeat.”
Spock stared at him, familiar with the expression, and well aware of what an important statement it was. There was something in Jim’s eyes that he had never seen before - something far beyond lust and affection, that he couldn’t quite figure out.
“You’re beautiful - so much so that sometimes it hurts to look at you. You’re dangerously intelligent, and I love being around you, more than anyone else on this ship.”
An illogical assortment of words, but Spock could hear the aching honesty there, and he realized that he was holding his breath.
“I’m telling you this because you deserve to understand that this means something to me.” Jim shook his head, seeming genuinely confused, and Spock watched a frown crease his face. “And right now, I’m trying to figure out why I’m not running as fast as I can.”
There was a long silence, and the two men stared at each other, neither seeming sure what to do. Jim looked a little lost, and Spock found himself wishing that he could take that expression away, wanting to see nothing but a happy spark in Jim’s eyes.
Watching Jim shift awkwardly from foot to foot, Spock thought of how Jim looked at him, as though Spock was the only person in the room. The way he gently teased Spock over his need for logic, and always defended him against danger, even when Spock didn’t need help.
The look on Jim’s face as he had clutched Spock’s hands in his, and the sounds he had made when Spock got courageous enough to touch back.
The idea of a relationship with this man was suddenly intoxicating, and Spock realized how much he wanted this to work. Jim was one of the few people to have ever shown a genuine interest in him, beyond the somewhat morbid fascination that most humans had with Vulcans, and Spock found himself wanting more of that.
As illogical as it was, he wanted this opportunity. Jim was offering Spock something he would probably never find anywhere else, and Spock didn’t want to lose that before he even had it.
Taking a deep breath, still trying to censor the need in his eyes, Spock slipped his fingers into his own waistband, carefully undoing the buttons there. He let the pants drop to the floor, followed by his underwear, then stood completely still, watching as an enticing flush travelled from Jim’s face to his chest.
“I am not running either, Jim.”
Jim couldn’t seem to speak, so Spock pulled him close, every inch of him quivering as their skin slid together.
“If you are willing to take this risk, then I am as well.”
As Jim slammed their lips together, clutching Spock with bruising intensity, Spock knew that he’d never even imagined being kissed like this. Jim seemed to want to crawl inside him, and Spock found that he had no objections, breathing heavily as he returned the attention.
“Lie down.”
His heart beating out of his chest, Spock lay back on the bed, and Jim quickly squirmed out of his underwear. Spock barely had a chance to look before Jim was stretched out across him, miles of beautiful skin sliding against his, and some of Spock’s higher brain functions seemed to shut down.
With a stifled noise, his system overwhelmed by sudden new sensation, Spock found his hands clutching at Jim’s arms. He realized that any control of the situation was rapidly slipping away from him, and quickly added another layer to his mental blocks, desperately trying to concentrate over the feel of his body flying apart.
“You’re stunning, you know.”
Spock couldn’t even formulate a reply, his breath still stolen by Jim’s clever lips.
“Stay still.”
After pressing a hard kiss against Spock’s lips, Jim squirmed down his body, licking and nibbling as he went, sending tendrils of sensation shooting across Spock’s skin. He stopped just above Spock’s cock, his tongue darting out to wet swollen lips, and Spock had to shut his eyes, breathing through the staggering jolt of arousal that skimmed along his nerves.
“Any objections, Mr. Spock?”
A swirl of fond irritation cut through Spock’s senses. “This is a poor time for bad humour, Jim.”
A slight chuckle was Jim’s response, followed by a clever hand wrapped around him, and Spock’s hips almost came off the bed. He grabbed at the sheets beneath him, wondering how Jim’s touch could feel so much more overwhelming than his own, and wished desperately that Jim would actually move his hand, would do something besides just holding him -
“Jim,” he managed, hearing the strain in his own voice, “If you simply intend to lie there -”
Then there was nothing but wet heat, wrapped around him with startling intensity, and Spock heard himself make a ridiculous noise. He quickly clamped down on his lip, wanting to keep those sounds inside, but Jim was sucking with considerable enthusiasm, and Spock found himself lost. Vulcan that he was, his human characteristics still ran strongly through his veins, and his overwhelemed body had no defence against this sensual assault.
“Jim,” he managed, his voice shaky, not knowing whether he wanted more, or for Jim to stop and give Spock his control back -
Jim only hummed something in response, and Spock gave up his attempts to speak, unable to do anything but enjoy. Jim’s clever lips were everywhere, and Spock had never felt like this before - like every inch of him was ready to shatter, with no hope for a soft landing.
“Come on, Spock,” Jim murmured seductively, pulling back to lick down the length of Spock’s cock, twisting his tongue gently against the sensitive skin. “You’re gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous like this, and I want to see you lose it -”
Jim’s lips wrapped around him, pulling him deep again as gentle fingers cupped his testicles, and Spock finally shattered, a supernova flaring across his vision. For a few blessed moments, he knew nothing but pure pleasure, a white haze licking at the edges of his broken vision.
“Spock?”
Spock came down panting, Jim’s hair clutched tightly in his fingers, his limbs twice their normal weight. When he tried to speak, he could find nothing coherent, his body suspended in some beautiful detached state.
“Er, think I could have my hair back?”
Spock managed to pry his fingers loose, but was still unable to find words.
“What was that, right at the end?”
A feeling of dread suddenly settled in his stomach, cutting through the afterglow, and Spock cautiously opened his eyes.
“When you came, I was nearly knocked on my own ass.”
There was nothing but dazed lust in Jim’s expression, and Spock felt a surge of relief, though he still regretted losing control of his mental barriers. It didn’t seem to have done any harm - quite the opposite, if Jim’s stuttered breathing was any indication - but Spock still took a moment to be thankful.
“I didn’t realize your touch telepathy worked like that,” Jim was saying shakily, stroking his fingers along Spock’s arms. “Did you - did you keep up shields of some kind, the entire time?”
Spock managed a nod, and watched as a flush travelled across Jim’s face.
“Sometime - can we, without the shields -”
Jim’s voice was unbearably raspy, and Spock silenced him with a kiss, reaching down to wrap a hand around Jim’s hard cock. It jumped slightly at his touch, and Jim groaned something, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Jim,” Spock said softly, wanting Jim to experience as much pleasure as Spock had, “A Vulcan does not often allow a telepathic connection during sex. He does so only with someone he completely trusts.”
Jim was gasping quietly as Spock stroked, and Spock felt a new surge of need travel throughout his own body. Watching Jim’s lips open in a struggle for air, eyelashes fluttering against beautiful skin, Spock realized he would do anything to keep this.
“I believe you may be one such person.”
Jim’s body tensed at the words, and Spock dropped his barriers, letting everything flow through to Jim, wanting Jim to know how beautiful he was. Jim came with a shout, curling over and digging his fingers into Spock’s skin, and Spock pulled him close, feeling Jim shake against him.
“That, Jim, is what sex with a Vulcan can feel like.”
Jim was breathing brokenly, clutching at Spock with impressive strength. “Indeed,” he gasped out, still looking utterly dazed. “I… I think I quite approve.”
Spock allowed the tiniest hint of a smile, pleased that Jim had been anything but freaked out. “We are not needed on the Bridge for another six hours. Shall we get some rest?”
“I can stay here?”
Spock shifted to the side of the bed without hesitation, moving one of his pillows over, and leaving Jim plenty of space. His breathing still uneven, Jim curled up beside him, their hands brushing together, and Spock took a moment to reflect on what had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
Although he hadn’t been ready to admit his loneliness to himself, Spock had gone to Jim’s room seeking friendship. Instead, he had ended up with the captain in his bed, and Spock decided that he quite approved of these circumstances.
“So,” Jim murmured softly, his head buried in a pillow, as Spock gently dragged a finger along Jim’s palm. “This is how Vulcans kiss, isn’t it?”
Spock froze, positively stunned that Jim had been so perceptive.
“I thought so.” There was a hint of smugness to Jim’s tone. “Any time I touch your hands, you practically fall over.”
Spock found himself glaring, even though Jim wasn’t looking. “I do no such -”
Jim suddenly scooted towards him, quirking a smile and curling their hands together. For a blissful moment, he rubbed their fingers against each other, and Spock couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering shut.
“See?”
“Jim, you are far too amused by this.”
His voice was just shy of shaky, and Jim cracked another grin. “I’ll be using this knowledge in the future, you know.”
“As long as we are not on the bridge,” Spock answered lightly, feeling his heart skip at the thought of doing this again, “You are more than welcome to do so.”
With a quiet laugh, Jim pressed a kiss against Spock’s fingers, then curled up beside him, still holding their hands together. Spock took one last look at Jim’s face, then closed his eyes, the oddest feeling of contentment trying to make itself known.
“Jim,” he murmured, sleep tugging at his sense, “Thank you for convincing me that this was a good idea.”
Although Jim said nothing, his grip on Spock’s hand tightened, a sensation of warmth and utter contentment sliding from Jim's body to Spock's own, and that was more than enough.