(no subject)
Title: Resistance.
Author: Razzle
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG
Summary: James Kirk has a weak spot. A pesky, human weakspot that any green-blooded man would find… fascinating.
AN: Unbetad. I make no apologies for this being as fluffy as a tribble.
It was not the first time Kirk’s bed had accommodated Spock. It was far from their first time naked intimate in one another’s company and yet they were both aware that there was still much left to learn. Hence they found themselves, stripped and enthusiastic; exploring each other’s bodies with barely-restrained delight.
Spock dedicated himself to his study of his partner’s form and preferences with the same commitment he applied to the most delicate or intricate experiment and with the same methodical pattern of plan, hypothesis, experiment and conclusion. And Jim was, as he ever was, rather like a puppy with a new toy, throwing himself into the task without limits or restraint; all unshakeable confidence, trial and error and improvement.
It could have been disastrous, with two such different approaches to the progression of their relations. However, for some reason, it worked rather spectacularly. While Kirk was busy assaulting Spock with every trick he knew, discarding them as easily when they failed to have the desired effect, Spock was monitoring and assimilating his new lover’s responses to every small action. The ultimate outcome was the same; intense, welcome and often somewhat unexpected climax.
It was not their first time, but they still had a great quantity left to experience. At this point they were in no hurry, lying satisfied in their own sweat, (‘I would prefer you refrained from referring to it as ‘filth’, Jim’) and merely enjoying each other; the sight, smell and presence of one so welcome.
Spock watched the path of his own movements as long, pale fingers explored the warm flesh of Jim’s torso; mapping curves and ridges, tracing the valleys between bulges of finely defined muscles. The Vulcan watched for the way the skin tensed gently at his touch; the little goosebumps that pinched his skin in his fingers’ wake.
These were reactions he expected, he had observed through repetition and would continue striving to attain. What he didn’t expect was Jim to squirm away from him, folding in half and crying out in surprise. Somehow, though, he seemed to remain in good spirits, letting out a strangled laugh as he practically kicked the startled Vulcan away from him.
“Was that unpleasant?” Spock asked, confident that he had not hurt his lover but most surprised by the reaction. Kirk shook his head.
“No, I’m fine,” Jim giggled. “You got my ticklish spot.”
“Ticklish?” Spock mused. “A curious trait, wherein gentle stimulation to specific, sensitive locations on the skin surface has the effect of causing involuntary twitching movements and unprecedented amusement.” He drew short fingernails across the surface of Jim’s stomach; causing a shudder and a most unmanly giggle as the human squirmed away. “This is being ticklish?”
Kirk nodded through repeated miniature aftershocks.
“Yes, that’s being ticklish, now cut it out!”
Spock’s brow tightened.
“Captain,” he admonished. “For the sake of completeness, I am obliged to study this reaction further.”
“Bullshit,” Kirk replied, the last syllable dragging out in vibrato as Spock’s hand left the bed and the human shoved himself away, twitching involuntarily.
“Jim, I did not intend to touch you,” Spock said, as if there was something not quite right with the captain’s mind.
“Oh, no, I don’t trust you now,” Kirk said, his whole body curving away, his ass and one leg making a break for freedom. “I’ve seen that look before; you scientists, you can’t let anything go, you have to keep poking at it.”
Spock pulled himself to sitting; the soft red blankets pooling rather fetchingly around his waist.
“I will admit, I do find that I have the strangest urge to repeat the action. With or without…”
He trailed off, averting his gaze and flushing an attractive shade of green. Kirk slid a little closer, albeit carefully.
“Spock, what is it? Come on, you can tell me.”
“Jim, you know I would never hurt you… now,” he said awkwardly, both of them well aware of the period in their history when that was less true. As Kirk nodded in confirmation, Spock went on, “You are aware that I would never force anything upon you or coerce you into any act with which you were not comfortable…” Jim rolled his eyes
“Spock…”
“…your devoted servant, if you will…”
“Yes, Spock, what’s your point?” he interjected. Spock sighed.
“I have the most overwhelming urge to secure you to the bed with my body and… is there a verb form specific to engaging this ticklish reaction?”
“To tickle,” Kirk supplied, amused enough to let the corner of his mouth twitch and yet wary enough to scoot another couple of inches back. “You want to pin me down and tickle me.” Spock inclined his head briefly.
“A logical term,” he said approvingly. “Indeed, I find I have the strongest desire to tickle you… without mercy… even once you have specifically asked me to stop.” He sounded so remorseful that Kirk couldn’t help but laugh.
“I think that’s pretty natural,” he said, settling back under the sheets, just about within bolting distance. “Most people seem to feel like that. I’m not even that ticklish, except in certain places. But still, whenever someone finds out that you’re ticklish, they can’t control themselves! They just can’t keep their hands off you.”
Spock’s expression quickly changed from repentance to agitation.
“People try and force this kind of attention upon you?” he asked, as close to scandalised as a Vulcan could sound. “Evidently I will have to be on a more attentive guard if I am to defend you from their salacious intentions.”
“No, Spock, it isn’t like that, I don’t need…” Jim caught himself and stopped mid sentence, cutting his eyes at the Vulcan. “Are you playing me?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not at all, Jim,” Spock claimed, and it wasn’t the first time Kirk cursed Spock’s exceptional deadpan delivery. “I am concerned that such susceptibility could compromise your security.”
Jim smirked at him for a second, then reached behind himself, casually picked up a pillow and hit his Vulcan around the head with it.
“There is no call for assault,” Spock reproved.
“I’ll give you assault,” Kirk said, narrowing his eyes and clambering over to straddle Spock, scuffing up his hair and prodding him in the playful mimicry of an attack. Spock barely reacted, already used to Jim’s random act of mock-aggression. He brought his hands to rest on the curve of Kirk’s naked hips and let his thumbs trace circles on the smooth clefts that ran toward his groin. The captain wore himself out in less than a minute and relaxed into his lap.
“You are extraordinary,” Spock observed. “As a species. From a scientific standpoint.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jim replied, with an extraordinary smile. “What say you we go scrape off the filth and go mind the store?"
“As you wish, Jim,” Spock said softly, contradicting himself rather delightfully by reaching up to pull his lover down into a kiss. But there was something possessing him, now, even as he enjoyed the slow, increasingly familiar caresses as their lips moved leisurely together. His concentration wavered, his hand drifting away from Kirk’s hip, fingers uncurling, extending delicately and, without conscious involvement, drew a delicate line straight down his captain’s ribs.
The squeal, the squirm and the scandalised look he received brought him a tremendous, lascivious pleasure and the difficult realisation that he might, just might, have the beginnings of a problem.
T'End.
Author: Razzle
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG
Summary: James Kirk has a weak spot. A pesky, human weakspot that any green-blooded man would find… fascinating.
AN: Unbetad. I make no apologies for this being as fluffy as a tribble.
It was not the first time Kirk’s bed had accommodated Spock. It was far from their first time naked intimate in one another’s company and yet they were both aware that there was still much left to learn. Hence they found themselves, stripped and enthusiastic; exploring each other’s bodies with barely-restrained delight.
Spock dedicated himself to his study of his partner’s form and preferences with the same commitment he applied to the most delicate or intricate experiment and with the same methodical pattern of plan, hypothesis, experiment and conclusion. And Jim was, as he ever was, rather like a puppy with a new toy, throwing himself into the task without limits or restraint; all unshakeable confidence, trial and error and improvement.
It could have been disastrous, with two such different approaches to the progression of their relations. However, for some reason, it worked rather spectacularly. While Kirk was busy assaulting Spock with every trick he knew, discarding them as easily when they failed to have the desired effect, Spock was monitoring and assimilating his new lover’s responses to every small action. The ultimate outcome was the same; intense, welcome and often somewhat unexpected climax.
It was not their first time, but they still had a great quantity left to experience. At this point they were in no hurry, lying satisfied in their own sweat, (‘I would prefer you refrained from referring to it as ‘filth’, Jim’) and merely enjoying each other; the sight, smell and presence of one so welcome.
Spock watched the path of his own movements as long, pale fingers explored the warm flesh of Jim’s torso; mapping curves and ridges, tracing the valleys between bulges of finely defined muscles. The Vulcan watched for the way the skin tensed gently at his touch; the little goosebumps that pinched his skin in his fingers’ wake.
These were reactions he expected, he had observed through repetition and would continue striving to attain. What he didn’t expect was Jim to squirm away from him, folding in half and crying out in surprise. Somehow, though, he seemed to remain in good spirits, letting out a strangled laugh as he practically kicked the startled Vulcan away from him.
“Was that unpleasant?” Spock asked, confident that he had not hurt his lover but most surprised by the reaction. Kirk shook his head.
“No, I’m fine,” Jim giggled. “You got my ticklish spot.”
“Ticklish?” Spock mused. “A curious trait, wherein gentle stimulation to specific, sensitive locations on the skin surface has the effect of causing involuntary twitching movements and unprecedented amusement.” He drew short fingernails across the surface of Jim’s stomach; causing a shudder and a most unmanly giggle as the human squirmed away. “This is being ticklish?”
Kirk nodded through repeated miniature aftershocks.
“Yes, that’s being ticklish, now cut it out!”
Spock’s brow tightened.
“Captain,” he admonished. “For the sake of completeness, I am obliged to study this reaction further.”
“Bullshit,” Kirk replied, the last syllable dragging out in vibrato as Spock’s hand left the bed and the human shoved himself away, twitching involuntarily.
“Jim, I did not intend to touch you,” Spock said, as if there was something not quite right with the captain’s mind.
“Oh, no, I don’t trust you now,” Kirk said, his whole body curving away, his ass and one leg making a break for freedom. “I’ve seen that look before; you scientists, you can’t let anything go, you have to keep poking at it.”
Spock pulled himself to sitting; the soft red blankets pooling rather fetchingly around his waist.
“I will admit, I do find that I have the strangest urge to repeat the action. With or without…”
He trailed off, averting his gaze and flushing an attractive shade of green. Kirk slid a little closer, albeit carefully.
“Spock, what is it? Come on, you can tell me.”
“Jim, you know I would never hurt you… now,” he said awkwardly, both of them well aware of the period in their history when that was less true. As Kirk nodded in confirmation, Spock went on, “You are aware that I would never force anything upon you or coerce you into any act with which you were not comfortable…” Jim rolled his eyes
“Spock…”
“…your devoted servant, if you will…”
“Yes, Spock, what’s your point?” he interjected. Spock sighed.
“I have the most overwhelming urge to secure you to the bed with my body and… is there a verb form specific to engaging this ticklish reaction?”
“To tickle,” Kirk supplied, amused enough to let the corner of his mouth twitch and yet wary enough to scoot another couple of inches back. “You want to pin me down and tickle me.” Spock inclined his head briefly.
“A logical term,” he said approvingly. “Indeed, I find I have the strongest desire to tickle you… without mercy… even once you have specifically asked me to stop.” He sounded so remorseful that Kirk couldn’t help but laugh.
“I think that’s pretty natural,” he said, settling back under the sheets, just about within bolting distance. “Most people seem to feel like that. I’m not even that ticklish, except in certain places. But still, whenever someone finds out that you’re ticklish, they can’t control themselves! They just can’t keep their hands off you.”
Spock’s expression quickly changed from repentance to agitation.
“People try and force this kind of attention upon you?” he asked, as close to scandalised as a Vulcan could sound. “Evidently I will have to be on a more attentive guard if I am to defend you from their salacious intentions.”
“No, Spock, it isn’t like that, I don’t need…” Jim caught himself and stopped mid sentence, cutting his eyes at the Vulcan. “Are you playing me?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not at all, Jim,” Spock claimed, and it wasn’t the first time Kirk cursed Spock’s exceptional deadpan delivery. “I am concerned that such susceptibility could compromise your security.”
Jim smirked at him for a second, then reached behind himself, casually picked up a pillow and hit his Vulcan around the head with it.
“There is no call for assault,” Spock reproved.
“I’ll give you assault,” Kirk said, narrowing his eyes and clambering over to straddle Spock, scuffing up his hair and prodding him in the playful mimicry of an attack. Spock barely reacted, already used to Jim’s random act of mock-aggression. He brought his hands to rest on the curve of Kirk’s naked hips and let his thumbs trace circles on the smooth clefts that ran toward his groin. The captain wore himself out in less than a minute and relaxed into his lap.
“You are extraordinary,” Spock observed. “As a species. From a scientific standpoint.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jim replied, with an extraordinary smile. “What say you we go scrape off the filth and go mind the store?"
“As you wish, Jim,” Spock said softly, contradicting himself rather delightfully by reaching up to pull his lover down into a kiss. But there was something possessing him, now, even as he enjoyed the slow, increasingly familiar caresses as their lips moved leisurely together. His concentration wavered, his hand drifting away from Kirk’s hip, fingers uncurling, extending delicately and, without conscious involvement, drew a delicate line straight down his captain’s ribs.
The squeal, the squirm and the scandalised look he received brought him a tremendous, lascivious pleasure and the difficult realisation that he might, just might, have the beginnings of a problem.
T'End.