Teach Me Tonight (Prologue)
Title: Teach Me Tonight
Author: ladyblahblah
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Rating: NC-17, like, right away
Disclaimer: I actually had the opportunity to buy the Trek franchise at a garage sale recently, but I waited too long and Paramount got to it first. Drat the luck. Now I own nothing and don't even make any money from this.
A/N: This is porn. That's all it is. An excuse for smut. Pure, unadulterated filth. There's nothing even vaguely resembling plot here. Just . . . forewarning you. Also unbeta'd and posted at 1:30 in the morning without a read through, so . . . yeah. Spock's incredibly formal speech patterns can be blamed on margarks and ninjaboots . (Gaila's last name shamelessly jacked from the phenomenal captanddeastar 's fic So Wise We Grow. If you haven't read it, go do it now. You'll thank me later.)
Summary: During sex, Jim is so intent on pleasing his partner that he never actually reaches orgasm himself. Spock is out to change all that
“Jim.”
Spock’s eyes fall closed as his head drops back, his hands fisted in the rumpled sheets. His skin is flushed a delicate shade of green, and his spine is arching off the bed in a way that goes straight to Jim’s cock. As often as he’s fantasized about what Spock would look like in the moments before orgasm, the reality is so much better it’s unbelievable.
He’s gripping Spock’s hips out of habit more than anything; he knows perfectly well that Vulcan control is the only thing keeping him from choking on the cock that’s filling his mouth, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing ever. The noises slipping from Spock’s throat are making his head spin, and yeah, that’s something else he hadn’t expected. As many times as he’s thought about this-and oh, he has, an almost embarrassing number of times-he’s always imagined that Spock would be the quiet type. Maybe a little bit of labored breathing, but more or less silent. Controlled. Instead he feels as though he could get drunk on the moans, the gasps and whimpers that Spock can’t seem to hold back.
Spock is close now, Jim can tell. He pulls out all the stops, desperate to see this beautiful creature come undone beneath his hands, his mouth. He dips lower, drawing Spock in until Jim’s lips are nestled at the base of that hard, thick cock, the ridges fluttering helplessly against his tongue. It’s like nothing Jim’s ever felt before; it’s intoxicating, and he simply has to pull up to trace the sensitive skin between with the tip of his tongue before sinking back down. Spock’s hands bury themselves in his hair, holding him in place as, with a final broken gasp, he empties himself down Jim’s throat.
Jim keeps his mouth on him as his Spock collapses back onto the bed, jaw slack and fingers still loosely tangled in Jim’s hair. It’s only reluctantly that Jim lets the softening cock slip from between his lips, his mouth seeking out the stretch of Spock’s stomach.
“Fuck, Spock,” he murmurs against warm skin. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you come.” He can’t keep his hands still now; they slide down over strong thighs, crisp hair tickling his palms as he trails his tongue from navel to hipbone.
“I am . . . gratified that you think so,” Spock says, his breath hitching in a way that makes Jim hide a smug smile against his ribs.
“And the sounds you make.” He swipes the flat of his tongue across a flat nipple and receives a choked-off moan in response. “God, yes, like that. I never thought of you as the noisy type.”
Spock’s fingers still for a moment before continuing their lazy journey over Jim’s shoulders. “Do you mean to imply that you have given consideration to how I might behave during sexual intercourse?”
Jim would be more embarrassed about blushing if Spock’s skin weren’t flushing a faint green, as well. “Maybe once or twice. A day.” He doesn’t say the rest out loud-that he’s wanted this for so long that even with the taste of Spock’s seed in his mouth he still can’t quite believe this is really happening. Can’t believe that he’s allowed to skate his fingers over Spock’s skin, to lean up and capture those ridiculously full lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I always figured you’d be quiet,” he says as he nibbles a trail across Spock’s jaw. “Didn’t think you’d be willing to give up any of that amazing self-control.”
“Maintaining control at the expense of conveying one’s enjoyment to a partner is illogical,” Spock says. He wraps a hand around the back of Jim’s neck and pulls him back for another kiss. “Vocalization is an expedient method of signaling that a particular form of contact has engendered a positive reaction, thus increasing the likelihood of its being repeated.”
Jim groans and buries his face in Spock’s shoulder. “It really shouldn’t turn me on so much to hear you talk like that,” he mutters. It does, though, and it’s only the latest in a long list of Spock’s qualities that have that effect. “And what about the noises you were making when I came in here, hmm?” He licks a long stripe up Spock’s neck. “Those weren’t about ‘conveying one’s enjoyment to a partner’, were they?”
“No.” Jim pulls back just enough to see Spock raise an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. “But they were an expedient method of gaining your attention.”
Jim raises an eyebrow right back at him. “You’re saying you called out my name with the intent purpose of getting me in here to see you getting yourself off?”
Spock’s lips twitch again. “Perhaps.”
Jim groans, unable to help himself. “Well, you’ve got me here now. And I’m going to spend all damn night making you feel good,” he breathes against Spock’s skin before he nips at the sensitive slope of his shoulder. “You’re never going to want me to let you leave this bed.”
And after Spock is sated and sleeping, Jim thinks hazily as the Vulcan squirms deliciously beneath him, Jim is going to have the best wank of his entire life just remembering. There’s a part of him-which part shouldn’t come as a surprise-that wants to lock himself in the fresher right now, wrap a fist around his own aching cock and replay every last one of those ridiculously sexy sounds Spock made. But there’s no way he’s going anywhere until Spock is completely boneless. His own pleasure can wait; he’s more than used to that by now.
“Jim?” Spock’s hands are in his hair again, pulling him up until Spock can frown into his eyes. “Why do you intend to procure your sexual release by your own hand?”
“What?” Jim recoils slightly. “How the hell did you . . . oh,” he says helplessly as realization sets in. He’s in bed with a touch-telepath, he suddenly remembers, and they’re not exactly lacking for skin-to-skin contact at the moment. His eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. “Shit.”
“Jim?” Spock sounds genuinely puzzled. “Is this a common Human sexuality quirk of which I am unaware?”
Jim can feel himself turning bright red. “No, it’s not . . . exactly . . . it doesn’t matter. Like I said, I just wanna make you feel good.” He tries to lean down for another kiss, but Spock’s hands hold him firm.
“I was under the impression that a certain amount of reciprocity is considered standard.” The fingers of one hand drift down to do something diabolically clever at the back of Jim’s neck. “It would please me greatly to assist you with your own release.”
“Oh, god,” Jim moans. “I . . . it’s not that I don’t want that, Spock; I do. Fuck, I really, really do. But I can’t.” His voice is less than steady, and he still can’t look at Spock. This is it, the point where Spock realizes he’s a freak who’s not worth another minute of his time.
“Jim.” Spock sits up, taking Jim with him, his hands never losing contact with Jim’s skin the entire time. “Your fears are irrational.” When Jim finally manages to open his eyes, it’s to find Spock gazing at him the way he might look at a particularly challenging experiment. “Your previous thoughts would indicate that you are, in fact, capable of reaching orgasm. Is it, then, the idea of my touch in particular that makes you so sure that-”
“No!” Jim hastens to assure him. “No, absolutely not. The thought of you touching me . . .” His eyes slip closed again for a moment as a shiver wracks his body. “I want that. So much I don’t think I could really tell you how much. But I just . . . don’t do that. With other people, I mean.”
Spock regards him seriously. “You have never achieved orgasm during sexual congress with another person.” It’s not really a question, but Jim has to clarify anyway.
“Once.” The memory still stings after all this time; the laughter of the girl he’d been foolish enough to trust, the mockery of his classmates when word had spread. “But not for a really long time.”
Spock very nearly frowns. “I . . .” He hesitates, visibly considering his next words. “I had been given to understand that you were engaged in a sexual relationship with Cadet Gaila Vro during your tenure at the Academy. Surely, with her pheromones and . . . experience-”
“We didn’t have a ‘sexual relationship’,” Jim says, acutely embarrassed. He’s not sure how he ended up having one of the most awkward conversations of his life-and that’s saying something-when he’s shirtless in bed with his very naked First Officer. He has the feeling that the entire situation has veered rather distressingly out of his control. “We never even had sex; Uhura walked in before we got that far.” He shakes his head sharply. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He tries a cocky smile. “I like making other people feel good. It’s fine this way.”
“No, Jim,” Spock says softly, cutting through Jim’s bravado like the bullshit it is. “It is not. You have informed me that your previous partners have been so focused on their own needs that they have not bothered to attempt to satisfy yours. Nothing about that is remotely acceptable.”
“It’s not like that,” Jim protests, even as something warm unfurls inside of him at Spock’s words. “It’s just-”
He cuts off when a sigh-an honest to god sigh-escapes Spock’s lips. “You are being obstinate.”
Jim’s cock twitches at the tone of his voice. It’s what he privately thinks of as Spock’s Professor Vulcan voice, and he hasn’t heard it since the first few months of their mission when they were still feeling their way around a tentative new friendship. His reaction to it now is completely ridiculous . . . and undeniable. Before he can say anything, however, Spock’s hands close around Jim’s upper arms, and a moment later Jim finds himself flipped onto his back with the Vulcan hovering over him.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“You seem to require instruction on the benefits of a mutually reciprocal sexual encounter.” Jim’s breath catches as Spock’s hands drop to the fastenings at the front of Jim’s trousers. “As your previous partners showed no interest in doing so, it would appear to fall to me to see to your education.”
“So. Um.” Jim tries to marshal the last of his swiftly retreating thoughts. “You’re going to . . .”
“Make you come.” Spock pulls the trousers down Jim’s legs and cocks an eyebrow at him. “Please save any further questions for the end of the lesson.” As his underwear is unceremoniously stripped away, Jim would swear that there’s something like a smirk behind those deep brown eyes.
“Shall we begin?”
>>Lesson the First
Author: ladyblahblah
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Rating: NC-17, like, right away
Disclaimer: I actually had the opportunity to buy the Trek franchise at a garage sale recently, but I waited too long and Paramount got to it first. Drat the luck. Now I own nothing and don't even make any money from this.
A/N: This is porn. That's all it is. An excuse for smut. Pure, unadulterated filth. There's nothing even vaguely resembling plot here. Just . . . forewarning you. Also unbeta'd and posted at 1:30 in the morning without a read through, so . . . yeah. Spock's incredibly formal speech patterns can be blamed on margarks and ninjaboots . (Gaila's last name shamelessly jacked from the phenomenal captanddeastar 's fic So Wise We Grow. If you haven't read it, go do it now. You'll thank me later.)
Summary: During sex, Jim is so intent on pleasing his partner that he never actually reaches orgasm himself. Spock is out to change all that
“Jim.”
Spock’s eyes fall closed as his head drops back, his hands fisted in the rumpled sheets. His skin is flushed a delicate shade of green, and his spine is arching off the bed in a way that goes straight to Jim’s cock. As often as he’s fantasized about what Spock would look like in the moments before orgasm, the reality is so much better it’s unbelievable.
He’s gripping Spock’s hips out of habit more than anything; he knows perfectly well that Vulcan control is the only thing keeping him from choking on the cock that’s filling his mouth, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing ever. The noises slipping from Spock’s throat are making his head spin, and yeah, that’s something else he hadn’t expected. As many times as he’s thought about this-and oh, he has, an almost embarrassing number of times-he’s always imagined that Spock would be the quiet type. Maybe a little bit of labored breathing, but more or less silent. Controlled. Instead he feels as though he could get drunk on the moans, the gasps and whimpers that Spock can’t seem to hold back.
Spock is close now, Jim can tell. He pulls out all the stops, desperate to see this beautiful creature come undone beneath his hands, his mouth. He dips lower, drawing Spock in until Jim’s lips are nestled at the base of that hard, thick cock, the ridges fluttering helplessly against his tongue. It’s like nothing Jim’s ever felt before; it’s intoxicating, and he simply has to pull up to trace the sensitive skin between with the tip of his tongue before sinking back down. Spock’s hands bury themselves in his hair, holding him in place as, with a final broken gasp, he empties himself down Jim’s throat.
Jim keeps his mouth on him as his Spock collapses back onto the bed, jaw slack and fingers still loosely tangled in Jim’s hair. It’s only reluctantly that Jim lets the softening cock slip from between his lips, his mouth seeking out the stretch of Spock’s stomach.
“Fuck, Spock,” he murmurs against warm skin. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you come.” He can’t keep his hands still now; they slide down over strong thighs, crisp hair tickling his palms as he trails his tongue from navel to hipbone.
“I am . . . gratified that you think so,” Spock says, his breath hitching in a way that makes Jim hide a smug smile against his ribs.
“And the sounds you make.” He swipes the flat of his tongue across a flat nipple and receives a choked-off moan in response. “God, yes, like that. I never thought of you as the noisy type.”
Spock’s fingers still for a moment before continuing their lazy journey over Jim’s shoulders. “Do you mean to imply that you have given consideration to how I might behave during sexual intercourse?”
Jim would be more embarrassed about blushing if Spock’s skin weren’t flushing a faint green, as well. “Maybe once or twice. A day.” He doesn’t say the rest out loud-that he’s wanted this for so long that even with the taste of Spock’s seed in his mouth he still can’t quite believe this is really happening. Can’t believe that he’s allowed to skate his fingers over Spock’s skin, to lean up and capture those ridiculously full lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I always figured you’d be quiet,” he says as he nibbles a trail across Spock’s jaw. “Didn’t think you’d be willing to give up any of that amazing self-control.”
“Maintaining control at the expense of conveying one’s enjoyment to a partner is illogical,” Spock says. He wraps a hand around the back of Jim’s neck and pulls him back for another kiss. “Vocalization is an expedient method of signaling that a particular form of contact has engendered a positive reaction, thus increasing the likelihood of its being repeated.”
Jim groans and buries his face in Spock’s shoulder. “It really shouldn’t turn me on so much to hear you talk like that,” he mutters. It does, though, and it’s only the latest in a long list of Spock’s qualities that have that effect. “And what about the noises you were making when I came in here, hmm?” He licks a long stripe up Spock’s neck. “Those weren’t about ‘conveying one’s enjoyment to a partner’, were they?”
“No.” Jim pulls back just enough to see Spock raise an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. “But they were an expedient method of gaining your attention.”
Jim raises an eyebrow right back at him. “You’re saying you called out my name with the intent purpose of getting me in here to see you getting yourself off?”
Spock’s lips twitch again. “Perhaps.”
Jim groans, unable to help himself. “Well, you’ve got me here now. And I’m going to spend all damn night making you feel good,” he breathes against Spock’s skin before he nips at the sensitive slope of his shoulder. “You’re never going to want me to let you leave this bed.”
And after Spock is sated and sleeping, Jim thinks hazily as the Vulcan squirms deliciously beneath him, Jim is going to have the best wank of his entire life just remembering. There’s a part of him-which part shouldn’t come as a surprise-that wants to lock himself in the fresher right now, wrap a fist around his own aching cock and replay every last one of those ridiculously sexy sounds Spock made. But there’s no way he’s going anywhere until Spock is completely boneless. His own pleasure can wait; he’s more than used to that by now.
“Jim?” Spock’s hands are in his hair again, pulling him up until Spock can frown into his eyes. “Why do you intend to procure your sexual release by your own hand?”
“What?” Jim recoils slightly. “How the hell did you . . . oh,” he says helplessly as realization sets in. He’s in bed with a touch-telepath, he suddenly remembers, and they’re not exactly lacking for skin-to-skin contact at the moment. His eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. “Shit.”
“Jim?” Spock sounds genuinely puzzled. “Is this a common Human sexuality quirk of which I am unaware?”
Jim can feel himself turning bright red. “No, it’s not . . . exactly . . . it doesn’t matter. Like I said, I just wanna make you feel good.” He tries to lean down for another kiss, but Spock’s hands hold him firm.
“I was under the impression that a certain amount of reciprocity is considered standard.” The fingers of one hand drift down to do something diabolically clever at the back of Jim’s neck. “It would please me greatly to assist you with your own release.”
“Oh, god,” Jim moans. “I . . . it’s not that I don’t want that, Spock; I do. Fuck, I really, really do. But I can’t.” His voice is less than steady, and he still can’t look at Spock. This is it, the point where Spock realizes he’s a freak who’s not worth another minute of his time.
“Jim.” Spock sits up, taking Jim with him, his hands never losing contact with Jim’s skin the entire time. “Your fears are irrational.” When Jim finally manages to open his eyes, it’s to find Spock gazing at him the way he might look at a particularly challenging experiment. “Your previous thoughts would indicate that you are, in fact, capable of reaching orgasm. Is it, then, the idea of my touch in particular that makes you so sure that-”
“No!” Jim hastens to assure him. “No, absolutely not. The thought of you touching me . . .” His eyes slip closed again for a moment as a shiver wracks his body. “I want that. So much I don’t think I could really tell you how much. But I just . . . don’t do that. With other people, I mean.”
Spock regards him seriously. “You have never achieved orgasm during sexual congress with another person.” It’s not really a question, but Jim has to clarify anyway.
“Once.” The memory still stings after all this time; the laughter of the girl he’d been foolish enough to trust, the mockery of his classmates when word had spread. “But not for a really long time.”
Spock very nearly frowns. “I . . .” He hesitates, visibly considering his next words. “I had been given to understand that you were engaged in a sexual relationship with Cadet Gaila Vro during your tenure at the Academy. Surely, with her pheromones and . . . experience-”
“We didn’t have a ‘sexual relationship’,” Jim says, acutely embarrassed. He’s not sure how he ended up having one of the most awkward conversations of his life-and that’s saying something-when he’s shirtless in bed with his very naked First Officer. He has the feeling that the entire situation has veered rather distressingly out of his control. “We never even had sex; Uhura walked in before we got that far.” He shakes his head sharply. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He tries a cocky smile. “I like making other people feel good. It’s fine this way.”
“No, Jim,” Spock says softly, cutting through Jim’s bravado like the bullshit it is. “It is not. You have informed me that your previous partners have been so focused on their own needs that they have not bothered to attempt to satisfy yours. Nothing about that is remotely acceptable.”
“It’s not like that,” Jim protests, even as something warm unfurls inside of him at Spock’s words. “It’s just-”
He cuts off when a sigh-an honest to god sigh-escapes Spock’s lips. “You are being obstinate.”
Jim’s cock twitches at the tone of his voice. It’s what he privately thinks of as Spock’s Professor Vulcan voice, and he hasn’t heard it since the first few months of their mission when they were still feeling their way around a tentative new friendship. His reaction to it now is completely ridiculous . . . and undeniable. Before he can say anything, however, Spock’s hands close around Jim’s upper arms, and a moment later Jim finds himself flipped onto his back with the Vulcan hovering over him.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“You seem to require instruction on the benefits of a mutually reciprocal sexual encounter.” Jim’s breath catches as Spock’s hands drop to the fastenings at the front of Jim’s trousers. “As your previous partners showed no interest in doing so, it would appear to fall to me to see to your education.”
“So. Um.” Jim tries to marshal the last of his swiftly retreating thoughts. “You’re going to . . .”
“Make you come.” Spock pulls the trousers down Jim’s legs and cocks an eyebrow at him. “Please save any further questions for the end of the lesson.” As his underwear is unceremoniously stripped away, Jim would swear that there’s something like a smirk behind those deep brown eyes.
“Shall we begin?”
>>Lesson the First