Fic: An Opening Ceremony, Part II (STXI, K/S)
Title: An Opening Ceremony, Part II
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: K/S
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: ~1800
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
"Gaila," said Jim, all arms and legs and flailing in her doorway. "Help!"
The Orion frowned. "Is this about the ptt-ptah? Because if it is, I know you know I'm not a virgin."
"How is everyone else able to say that with a straight face?" Jim groused, and bounced down on her bed. "Anyway, help. I'm the virgin, and I'm doing the ptt-thingy, and Gaila, it's going to be Spock. Help!"
Gaila's jaw dropped, wide. She was a pretty girl, but it was unflattering anyway.
Jim supposed it was fairly surprising news, given his magnificent and completely false reputation as a ladies' man. In fact, come to think of it, he was a little impressed with himself at how easily and non-dysfunctionally that had all come out. It was as if somehow, now that Spock knew, it wasn't such a soul-destroying secret after all. Who'da thunk?
"You know, it kind of makes sense," Gaila said slowly, putting her face back into shape. "It explains why you were such an overbearing douche, back then."
Jim pouted a bit. Gaila liked him, damnit! "Back then?" he prompted.
"Yes, back then. You're a model captain now, happy?"
"Yes," he said as obnoxiously as possible. "Or I will be, if you'd help me out with Spock."
"He's agreed to be your ish-tar?”
Jim nodded rather than answer, because he didn't trust himself not to squeal with delight if he did.
"Wow, Jim - that's big. In fact, that's wonderful!” she said, red curls bobbing a bit in excitement. Jim nodded vigorously some more. His cheeks were starting to ache from all the grinning. “So, what's the problem then?”
Well, that stopped some of the incessant smiling. “The 'problem' is obvious, isn't it? Given the situation.” I'm James T. Kirk, don't blush, don't blush.
“Hrmm,” Gaila said thoughtfully. “Actually, given what everybody thought - given what I thought when we were messing around - I really don't think it was. Obvious, that is. That you're a virgin.”
Jim cringed a little at the v-word. “Thanks for the clarification”
“So how did it happen, anyway? Or not happen, as the case may be.” Gaila snickered a little at her own cleverness. Funnily enough, it actually made Jim feel a little better.
“Well, I didn't plan on it, that's for sure. I think--” Hmm, now that he thought about it... “I think I usually managed to piss them off or offend them somehow before I ever made it past second base.”
Gaila snorted. “Classic self-sabotage it is, then. With a side serving of intimacy issues.”
Jim lifted his head and glared at her, just to make sure she hadn't turned into a grouchy Georgian doctor when he wasn't looking. Nope, still green and gorgeous. Bones was a horrible influence on his ship.
“On the bright side, though, at least it means there's probably nothing wrong with your technique.”
“Probably?” he asked hopefully.
“Fine,” said Gaila, giving in to the puppy eyes. “I hate to admit this out loud, but your technique really wasn't bad. I couldn't tell, in fact.” And then, very grudgingly, “Maybe you're a natural.”
Jim preened. This was excellent news, especially considering who it was coming from. "You really didn't know?"
Gaila rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't, you're very good at bluffing, well done," she deadpanned.
"I am, aren't I?" He was pretty awesome.
"You're the expert. Now go bother your new boyfriend and leave me to my beauty sleep."
Jim was halfway down the hall to Spock's quarters before he realised that Spock hadn't actually agreed to be his boyfriend.
*
The captain was pacing back and forth in front of the door to Spock's room. The bulkheads on the ship were soundproof, so Spock was not entirely sure how he had come by that piece of information, but he knew it for a certainty nonetheless.
Jim pacing usually meant that he was unduly agitated over some small matter. Spock put aside the very fancifully-worded cultural briefing Ambassador P'o-bh had provided, and got up to open the door.
Jim's startled look was oddly satisfying.
“Spock!” he yelped, hopping around in mid-step. “I was just about to--” His eyes darted around wildly, as if looking for inspiration. Spock took pity on him.
“Won't you come in, Captain?”
“I -- yes. Thank you, Mr Spock.”
Spock felt his eyebrows rise at the unusually formal address. Kirk came to a halt in the centre of the room, where he rested his weight first on one leg and then on the other, clenching and unclenching his hands.
Spock permitted himself a tiny, inward smile. When the captain was truly fearful he was intense and deadly as a phaser beam, a concentrated blast of pure, unswerving energy. This level of fidgeting, on the other hand, was more likely to betoken a highly illogical, but often unaccountably endearing insecurity.
Once Jim had asked Spock if he thought he was getting "fat". Spock had not dignified the question with more than a withering stare, but Jim had looked somewhat reassured.
Spock waited as Jim looked at everything but him. He looked at the ceiling, and then at the head, and then at Spock's firepot, and then simply looked uncertain.
Then he heaved a great sigh, and said to the carpet, “Spock... I don't know if I can do this.”
Spock was slightly surprised. Kirk was clearly speaking of the ptt-ptah, but had they not settled the issue to their shared satisfaction? “I have already reassured you once on this matter,” he pointed out. He arched a brow. “You were not impressed.”
Kirk gave a weak chuckle, but didn't look at him.
“Jim?” he prompted.
“Spock.”
“What are your concerns?”
Kirk twitched. Spock often used that very phrase, with the exact same intonation, to open negotiations with disgruntled parties. Some of which had gone fine; others... not so much.
“My concerns? Boy, where do I begin,” he muttered. He risked a glance at Spock. The Vulcan was looking at him expectantly.
“Perhaps with the most immediate?” Spock suggested.
"You mean, like how the heck I'm supposed to know what I'm supposed to do in an alien sex ritual?"
Spock was maddeningly unfazed. "If that is the problem, it should be easily rectified, as I have the Ambassador's cultural brief right here. Shall I make you a copy?"
Kirk groaned. "No, just give me the basics."
"Very well," said Spock, switching into Computer mode. "'The ptt-ptah ceremony is a late Third Period ritualisation of a far more primitive festival. In it, the virgin, or ptah-pleth, represents the land, while the ish-tar represents the sower. The so-called 'great stalk' is implanted in the ptah-pleth in the 'action of ploughing' --" Kirk coughed. Spock's face was poker-straight "-- which is followed by the 'scattering of the seed' over the land. The ceremony appears very similar to the fertility rituals of the majority of agrarian cultures, including several from your own Earth.”
How nice. “Great, Spock, that's great.”
“You do not sound particularly enthused.” Spock's tone was light but his forehead were creased in a small frown. Jim could never resist that look of concern. He found himself answering Spock's unvoiced question.
“It's just that it sounds so... clinical. Like a social science lesson. Not like I was hoping it would be.”
“And how did you hope it would be?” Spock's voice was a little lower than usual.
Jim shrugged. “Spontaneous? I don't know." A large part of him couldn't believe they were even discussing this. Talking about sex was one thing, but feelings and shit? There didn't seem to be enough screaming and running away for this to actually be happening. "I just wish it was less... performed. Less ridiculous. More real. Like it means something.”
“It means a great deal to the people of this planet.”
“Yeah,” Jim said quietly. “I know. But I'm selfish - you know that. It'll be my first time. I want it to mean something to me, too.” He hesitated, and then thought, what did he have to lose? “And to you.”
Spock tilted his head and looked almost tender.
“There will be other times,” he said softly. “If you wish it.”
Something tight loosened just a little inside of Jim. He leaned forward, resisting the fierce urge to grab Spock by the hand. “Do you mean that, Spock? When you say something like that to a guy like me ... you don't get to take it back.”
Spock tightened his lips in that prissy Vulcan way of his. “I have never indulged in the human pastime of saying things which I do not mean.”
“So... you and me, huh?” He needed to hear it. “Together?”
Spock's eyes held his, steady and sure. "Together," he agreed.
Jim let out a whoop, punched the air, and commenced a lusty victory dance around the room. In his imagination, that was. He was still Captain of the Enterprise, after all. He settled for giving Spock an illogical, face-splitting grin, and rubbing his hands together in actual Glee.
“Right. Right then,” he said when his heart had stopped pounding in his ears. Back to business. “So what is it that I'm supposed to do in this ritual? Lie back and think of the Federation?”
“You will be thinking of the planetary rotations of Pla-qeth and the climatic changes that will result, as well as of whtt, the main food crop of this colony. But essentially, you are correct.”
Kirk not quite smothered a laugh. “Can I kiss you, Spock?”
“The brief was not explicit.”
“Screw the brief. You know what I meant. I meant now. Just - just for you and me.”
Jim knew he was a cocky bastard, but never in a cosmic year would he have guessed that he'd have the courage to be so sincere, so stripped away.
It was something about Spock, he thought, something about the way the man could huff and bitch and disapprove at Kirk like a champion, but when it came down to the wire he was always there, and whatever Kirk threw at him, he'd never back down or run away.
The reason, Kirk realised, that he could ask such bold questions, was that they weren't really questions at all. He knew what the answer would be. Could hear the words in his head, in fact, the very intonation. Spock would part his lips a just little - right there - and then he would say --
“That would be most pleasant. It should not interfere with the ceremony, as long as ejaculation--”
Kirk jumped him, right on cue.
Part III >
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: K/S
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: ~1800
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
"Gaila," said Jim, all arms and legs and flailing in her doorway. "Help!"
The Orion frowned. "Is this about the ptt-ptah? Because if it is, I know you know I'm not a virgin."
"How is everyone else able to say that with a straight face?" Jim groused, and bounced down on her bed. "Anyway, help. I'm the virgin, and I'm doing the ptt-thingy, and Gaila, it's going to be Spock. Help!"
Gaila's jaw dropped, wide. She was a pretty girl, but it was unflattering anyway.
Jim supposed it was fairly surprising news, given his magnificent and completely false reputation as a ladies' man. In fact, come to think of it, he was a little impressed with himself at how easily and non-dysfunctionally that had all come out. It was as if somehow, now that Spock knew, it wasn't such a soul-destroying secret after all. Who'da thunk?
"You know, it kind of makes sense," Gaila said slowly, putting her face back into shape. "It explains why you were such an overbearing douche, back then."
Jim pouted a bit. Gaila liked him, damnit! "Back then?" he prompted.
"Yes, back then. You're a model captain now, happy?"
"Yes," he said as obnoxiously as possible. "Or I will be, if you'd help me out with Spock."
"He's agreed to be your ish-tar?”
Jim nodded rather than answer, because he didn't trust himself not to squeal with delight if he did.
"Wow, Jim - that's big. In fact, that's wonderful!” she said, red curls bobbing a bit in excitement. Jim nodded vigorously some more. His cheeks were starting to ache from all the grinning. “So, what's the problem then?”
Well, that stopped some of the incessant smiling. “The 'problem' is obvious, isn't it? Given the situation.” I'm James T. Kirk, don't blush, don't blush.
“Hrmm,” Gaila said thoughtfully. “Actually, given what everybody thought - given what I thought when we were messing around - I really don't think it was. Obvious, that is. That you're a virgin.”
Jim cringed a little at the v-word. “Thanks for the clarification”
“So how did it happen, anyway? Or not happen, as the case may be.” Gaila snickered a little at her own cleverness. Funnily enough, it actually made Jim feel a little better.
“Well, I didn't plan on it, that's for sure. I think--” Hmm, now that he thought about it... “I think I usually managed to piss them off or offend them somehow before I ever made it past second base.”
Gaila snorted. “Classic self-sabotage it is, then. With a side serving of intimacy issues.”
Jim lifted his head and glared at her, just to make sure she hadn't turned into a grouchy Georgian doctor when he wasn't looking. Nope, still green and gorgeous. Bones was a horrible influence on his ship.
“On the bright side, though, at least it means there's probably nothing wrong with your technique.”
“Probably?” he asked hopefully.
“Fine,” said Gaila, giving in to the puppy eyes. “I hate to admit this out loud, but your technique really wasn't bad. I couldn't tell, in fact.” And then, very grudgingly, “Maybe you're a natural.”
Jim preened. This was excellent news, especially considering who it was coming from. "You really didn't know?"
Gaila rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't, you're very good at bluffing, well done," she deadpanned.
"I am, aren't I?" He was pretty awesome.
"You're the expert. Now go bother your new boyfriend and leave me to my beauty sleep."
Jim was halfway down the hall to Spock's quarters before he realised that Spock hadn't actually agreed to be his boyfriend.
*
The captain was pacing back and forth in front of the door to Spock's room. The bulkheads on the ship were soundproof, so Spock was not entirely sure how he had come by that piece of information, but he knew it for a certainty nonetheless.
Jim pacing usually meant that he was unduly agitated over some small matter. Spock put aside the very fancifully-worded cultural briefing Ambassador P'o-bh had provided, and got up to open the door.
Jim's startled look was oddly satisfying.
“Spock!” he yelped, hopping around in mid-step. “I was just about to--” His eyes darted around wildly, as if looking for inspiration. Spock took pity on him.
“Won't you come in, Captain?”
“I -- yes. Thank you, Mr Spock.”
Spock felt his eyebrows rise at the unusually formal address. Kirk came to a halt in the centre of the room, where he rested his weight first on one leg and then on the other, clenching and unclenching his hands.
Spock permitted himself a tiny, inward smile. When the captain was truly fearful he was intense and deadly as a phaser beam, a concentrated blast of pure, unswerving energy. This level of fidgeting, on the other hand, was more likely to betoken a highly illogical, but often unaccountably endearing insecurity.
Once Jim had asked Spock if he thought he was getting "fat". Spock had not dignified the question with more than a withering stare, but Jim had looked somewhat reassured.
Spock waited as Jim looked at everything but him. He looked at the ceiling, and then at the head, and then at Spock's firepot, and then simply looked uncertain.
Then he heaved a great sigh, and said to the carpet, “Spock... I don't know if I can do this.”
Spock was slightly surprised. Kirk was clearly speaking of the ptt-ptah, but had they not settled the issue to their shared satisfaction? “I have already reassured you once on this matter,” he pointed out. He arched a brow. “You were not impressed.”
Kirk gave a weak chuckle, but didn't look at him.
“Jim?” he prompted.
“Spock.”
“What are your concerns?”
Kirk twitched. Spock often used that very phrase, with the exact same intonation, to open negotiations with disgruntled parties. Some of which had gone fine; others... not so much.
“My concerns? Boy, where do I begin,” he muttered. He risked a glance at Spock. The Vulcan was looking at him expectantly.
“Perhaps with the most immediate?” Spock suggested.
"You mean, like how the heck I'm supposed to know what I'm supposed to do in an alien sex ritual?"
Spock was maddeningly unfazed. "If that is the problem, it should be easily rectified, as I have the Ambassador's cultural brief right here. Shall I make you a copy?"
Kirk groaned. "No, just give me the basics."
"Very well," said Spock, switching into Computer mode. "'The ptt-ptah ceremony is a late Third Period ritualisation of a far more primitive festival. In it, the virgin, or ptah-pleth, represents the land, while the ish-tar represents the sower. The so-called 'great stalk' is implanted in the ptah-pleth in the 'action of ploughing' --" Kirk coughed. Spock's face was poker-straight "-- which is followed by the 'scattering of the seed' over the land. The ceremony appears very similar to the fertility rituals of the majority of agrarian cultures, including several from your own Earth.”
How nice. “Great, Spock, that's great.”
“You do not sound particularly enthused.” Spock's tone was light but his forehead were creased in a small frown. Jim could never resist that look of concern. He found himself answering Spock's unvoiced question.
“It's just that it sounds so... clinical. Like a social science lesson. Not like I was hoping it would be.”
“And how did you hope it would be?” Spock's voice was a little lower than usual.
Jim shrugged. “Spontaneous? I don't know." A large part of him couldn't believe they were even discussing this. Talking about sex was one thing, but feelings and shit? There didn't seem to be enough screaming and running away for this to actually be happening. "I just wish it was less... performed. Less ridiculous. More real. Like it means something.”
“It means a great deal to the people of this planet.”
“Yeah,” Jim said quietly. “I know. But I'm selfish - you know that. It'll be my first time. I want it to mean something to me, too.” He hesitated, and then thought, what did he have to lose? “And to you.”
Spock tilted his head and looked almost tender.
“There will be other times,” he said softly. “If you wish it.”
Something tight loosened just a little inside of Jim. He leaned forward, resisting the fierce urge to grab Spock by the hand. “Do you mean that, Spock? When you say something like that to a guy like me ... you don't get to take it back.”
Spock tightened his lips in that prissy Vulcan way of his. “I have never indulged in the human pastime of saying things which I do not mean.”
“So... you and me, huh?” He needed to hear it. “Together?”
Spock's eyes held his, steady and sure. "Together," he agreed.
Jim let out a whoop, punched the air, and commenced a lusty victory dance around the room. In his imagination, that was. He was still Captain of the Enterprise, after all. He settled for giving Spock an illogical, face-splitting grin, and rubbing his hands together in actual Glee.
“Right. Right then,” he said when his heart had stopped pounding in his ears. Back to business. “So what is it that I'm supposed to do in this ritual? Lie back and think of the Federation?”
“You will be thinking of the planetary rotations of Pla-qeth and the climatic changes that will result, as well as of whtt, the main food crop of this colony. But essentially, you are correct.”
Kirk not quite smothered a laugh. “Can I kiss you, Spock?”
“The brief was not explicit.”
“Screw the brief. You know what I meant. I meant now. Just - just for you and me.”
Jim knew he was a cocky bastard, but never in a cosmic year would he have guessed that he'd have the courage to be so sincere, so stripped away.
It was something about Spock, he thought, something about the way the man could huff and bitch and disapprove at Kirk like a champion, but when it came down to the wire he was always there, and whatever Kirk threw at him, he'd never back down or run away.
The reason, Kirk realised, that he could ask such bold questions, was that they weren't really questions at all. He knew what the answer would be. Could hear the words in his head, in fact, the very intonation. Spock would part his lips a just little - right there - and then he would say --
“That would be most pleasant. It should not interfere with the ceremony, as long as ejaculation--”
Kirk jumped him, right on cue.
Part III >