“Doctor, if you are unwell,
there are medical personnel that possess the necessary training to assess your
condition. My medical skills are sufficient in case of an emergency, but hardly
the best course available to you here aboard the
McCoy winced at the dry tone of voice. For some reason, it almost always made him immediately irritated. Jim Kirk might have the reputation for being cocky, but Spock was every bit as full of himself as far as McCoy was concerned.
“I didn’t ask you here to get your medical advice,” McCoy kept his temper in check. He had, after all, requested that Spock join him in his quarters for a private conversation.
One of Spock’s eyebrows lifted archly. McCoy thought, rather ungenerously, that single brow was more expressive than the rest of Spock’s body parts combined.
“Indeed,” Spock replied. “From your appearance, I had presumed otherwise.”
“My appearance?” McCoy repeated. “What the hell is wrong with my appearance?”
“Your skin is several shades paler than its normal hue,” Spock willingly explained. “Except for the area under your eyes, which is noticeably darker. In short, Doctor, your physical demeanor is what I believe humans refer to as ‘haggard.’”
“Well, of course I’m haggard,” McCoy contradicted the way he’d demanded an explanation for Spock’s statement about his appearance. “Anyone in my situation would be.”
McCoy sloshed brandy into two glasses. He handed one to Spock, who took it, but did not drink. McCoy himself took a gulp, wincing at the burn of the alcohol.
“I presume from your comment that it not your physical state itself for which you need my assistance,” Spock continued. “I can only conclude that my aid is being solicited with regards to the reason that you are in this condition?”
“You got that right.” McCoy muttered.
Spock’s eyebrow lifted higher. “Would it not be more appropriate for you to have this discussion with the captain?”
“The captain?” McCoy snorted. “Jim’s the reason that I’m worn out.”
If the doctor had thought Spock’s face expressionless before, he was wrong. As soon as McCoy had implied that their captain was at fault, it was like a curtain came down over Spock’s face. If McCoy hadn’t known better, he would have thought that Spock was angry.
Good. Maybe that meant his crazy idea would work after all.
“Explain, Doctor,” Spock demanded in a clipped tone.
McCoy put his glass down with a thump. “Okay, you asked for it.” He took a deep breath. “You’re aware, no doubt, of Jim’s reputation.”
Spock relaxed minutely. “You will have to be more specific, Doctor. Captain Kirk, for all his brief tenure in that position, has a number of reputations.”
The comment caused McCoy to smile. “Fair enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m talking about his reputation with pursuing romantic entanglements.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Spock seemed reluctant to reply. “It is my understanding that he pursued Lieutenant Uhura when they were both cadets.”
McCoy was surprised that Spock brought Uhura up. The half-Vulcan’s break-up with the young woman had been rather public.
“Her and half the academy,” McCoy agreed.
It was Spock's turn to set his unused glass down with a thump. “Doctor, I uncertain as to how Captain Kirk’s frequent engagement in coital activities has to do with your current physical condition.”
McCoy smiled, although he was careful to keep the smugness out of it. Spock was visibly uncomfortable talking about Jim’s sex life. It was all McCoy could do not to crow ‘gotcha.’
“Have you been aware of Jim
engaging in any coital activities since taking on the captaincy of the
Spock was silent for several moments as he considered. “No, I cannot say that I have observed anything from the captain that could be construed as a human mating ritual.”
“And that says it all,” McCoy declared. “Jim is captain now, which puts most of the crew off-limits with regards to sexual activities.”
That comment actually prompted a frown out of the Vulcan. “It is my understanding that there exist self-gratification techniques that a human can utilize when the need for sexual gratification builds to discomfort and there is no suitable mate at hand.”
McCoy snorted. “Masturbation? For a man like Jim Kirk? I don’t think so.” His face softened as he considered the man they were talking about. Jim had been his friend for three years. As much as he gave the younger man crap, there were things about Jim Kirk that McCoy knew that Spock didn’t. “And it’s not just about the sex, either.”
Spock stood and turned his back to McCoy, his hands behind his back. He would have managed to look much calmer had the clasp of those hands not been so tight. “Although I have been a participant in a relationship with a member of your race, Doctor, the intricacies of such matters often eludes me.”
“For some humans, sex is more than about physical needs,” McCoy explained. “For some people, knowing that they are sexually desired is a means of seeking approval; of proving that they are worthy of consideration.”
Spock turned slowly around. “And this is the case with Captain Kirk?”
McCoy shrugged. “He didn’t have the happiest of childhoods, Spock. Jumping from bed to bed is one way for Jim to know that he’s wanted.”
“I fail to see the significance of this conversation to the point at hand,” Spock made an attempt to derail the conversation by trying to turn it back to the original subject.
Unfortunately for Spock, that played right into McCoy’s hands.
“You wanted to know why I’m tired,” McCoy stated. “Think about it a minute, Spock. Jim’s the captain, which means all but the senior crew are off-limits. We’ve had damn few opportunities for shore leave too. Who does Jim have to turn to for sexual release?”
Spock’s face went utterly blank and McCoy continued.
“Even those few times we have shore leaves or an away mission, Starfleet watches Jim’s every move. They made him the youngest captain in Starfleet history, but they don’t completely trust him.” A hint of anger crept into McCoy’s voice, although he wasn’t sure if it was because Starfleet had burdened Jim with command at such an early age or that they were second guessing themselves. “Any hint that Jim’s gone back to his wild ways and they’ll strip that from him.”
“And so you. . . accommodate. . . him?” Spock asked. There wasn’t much expression in his face, but his eyes snapped.
“It’s more than that,” McCoy felt himself blush. “Jim’s a friend. More than a friend.”
Spock headed towards the door. “Doctor, I fail to see the issue at hand. Captain Kirk requires sexual release and you have no issue with providing it. There appears to be no need for assistance from anyone, especially from me.”
McCoy reached out and grabbed Spock’s arm. With his Vulcan heritage giving him more strength than a mere human, Spock could have shrugged him off, but he chose to stop.
“The hell there isn’t need for your assistance!” McCoy stated bluntly. “Jim’s younger than me, more fit than me and has a hellacious amount of steam to blow off.”
Spock looked down from where McCoy’s hand rested on his arm, up to McCoy’s gaze. “Doctor, are you implying that you require my aide in keeping the captain sexually satisfied?”
McCoy let go of Spock and gave a satisfied sigh. “I’m not implying at all, man. Jim’s running me into the ground. I’m practically begging.”
Spock’s eyebrow went up almost to his hairline, which told McCoy he’d definitely shocked the Vulcan. Just as well, since nothing else would’ve convinced the man that he was telling the truth; logic only went so far. And as much verbal dancing around that Jim and Spock did, McCoy knew there was a lot more than a deep rivalry between them.
“Doctor, I am unable to assist you in this matter. I suggest that you look elsewhere,” Spock stated shortly before shaking off McCoy’s arm and leaving.
McCoy glared at the door and muttered, “Now what?”
Because he damn sure wasn’t going to ask Chekov or Sulu. No, he just had to find a way to convince Spock so that all of them got what they needed, even if it wasn’t what Spock thought he wanted. Or, in his case, what he shouldn’t want.
* * * *
As Spock walked down the corridor leading from McCoy’s room, his heart raced unevenly in his chest, speeding his respiration and causing a rise in his blood pressure. This, in turn, prompted perspiration to gather on his palms and forehead, though he refused to wipe at either, well aware of his dignity as he passed the occasional crewmember.
Not until he was safely in his quarters did Spock allow himself the too-human gesture of wiping his hands on his pants and then his forehead on his sleeve. Leaning on the door as if to assure himself that it wouldn’t open should McCoy follow, Spock’s mind raced around what the doctor had suggested. He was uncertain if it would involve all three of them at once, or perhaps he and the doctor taking turns on alternating shifts. Both scenarios were ludicrous.
Spock pushed off the door and walked to his meditation corner, automatically lighting the candles and then sitting cross-legged in front of them. He closed his eyes and deliberately turned the proposition over in his mind, refusing to run from it. If he didn’t confront this head on, it would slip his control at the worst possible moment.
A sexual relationship with the Captain was, logically, not the worst idea in the world. Spock knew from the many stories he’d overheard that the Captain was, indeed, possessing of a highly active libido. He’d been termed both a Lothario and a Don Juan, though he wasn’t entirely certain that there was a distinction despite reading both works of fiction. What he did understand was that if Jim still required that level of stimulation, it was no wonder McCoy had been looking a little ‘ragged around the edges,’ as Uhura had commented a few days previous.
If he were to enter into such an arrangement with Jim and McCoy, then the Captain would gain stability and, one would hope, a measure of calm from being satisfied on a regular basis.
On the other hand, he’d
supposedly been just as satisfied in the academy and it hadn’t stopped him from
stealing aboard the
Spock’s eyes opened and he allowed a grimace of annoyance upon realizing that he was half-hard just from thinking about the possible arrangement. While it was true that he admired Jim on many levels, he was often just as irritating as when he’d sabotaged the Maru simulation. Jim’s propensity for leaping into danger and throwing himself in the path of certain doom to save his crew was simultaneously admirable and heart-stopping. Spock had started seeing a couple of white hairs on his head in the last few weeks and they’d only served together for six months. He shuddered to think of what things would be like in three or five years, if the man lived so long.
Knowing he was getting nowhere through meditation, Spock stood and blew out the candles thinking that a more physical meditation was in order. He walked down to the gym and found it unoccupied, which was good because he did not feel like holding back. He changed into appropriate clothing and then returned to the area designated for alien workouts. The equipment there was far more durable than those for the human implement of the crew.
“Hey, Spock! I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”
Spock nearly flinched at Jim’s voice, his thin layer of calm unraveling fast when the object of his thoughts appeared as if summoned. Turning, he eyed the smaller man with as much calm as he could, noting the form-fitting unitard that cut off just above the knees and contoured to the strong plane of Jim’s chest. “I require some…exertion…this evening.”
Jim grinned broadly and then winked at him. “Can’t turn off that big brain of yours, huh? I know, why don’t we do some sparring?”
“I do not believe that would be a good idea, Captain,” Spock replied formally. “I was about to go through some purely Vulcan workouts.”
Jim’s grin shifted into an outright smirk as he challenged, “Afraid I might beat you, Spock?”
And as if he were ten years old again, Spock wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk from Jim’s face. Drawing up to his full height, he replied, “That, will not happen,” and walked towards the boxing ring.
* * * *
Despite popular belief, Jim actually did a lot of thinking, especially before he took action. He simply managed to think quicker than most, which made it seem as though he wasn’t carefully considering something before he did it. Not to mention that sometimes he took action anyway, even though it might place him in peril. The latter was something that Leonard McCoy had berated him about often, at great length and volume.
As soon as Jim saw Spock enter the rec room, he knew the Vulcan was upset about something. More than upset, actually, Spock looked downright pissed. Most people would walk away from a Vulcan so obviously near losing control.
Jim Kirk wasn’t most people.
For a brief moment after he’d verbally baited Spock into joining him for sparring, Jim regretted what he’d done. Even months after the fact, he remembered Spock’s hands around his throat and knew very well just how strong the Vulcan was. Even so, as he watched Spock stride away from him, Jim ogled the way Spock’s tight unitard hugged the powerful Vulcan body. Jim grinned. Maybe he’d get his ass kicked, but it would be worth it.
“Shall we begin?” Spock asked as soon as Jim entered the ring.
Jim positioned himself and assumed a crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet so that he was ready to move. “Any time you’re ready.”
The words were barely out of Jim’s mouth before Spock attacked. Jim was a little startled, since Spock was usually content with defensive moves, at least when they’d sparred in the past. This time, though, Spock came out of his corner, hands already moving as he flicked a couple of blows at Jim’s face.
The fight was on.
At first it was a fair match. Spock had the advantage of superior Vulcan strength and a slightly longer reach. Jim had illogic on his side, allowing him to attempt maneuvers that Spock wasn’t prepared for. Spock, however, clearly wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Jim got in a couple of blows that he wouldn’t normally been able to land.
“You okay?” Jim panted a question as he danced out of reach.
“My physical condition is within acceptable parameters, given the current level of exertion,” Spock replied. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Jim grinned at him and Spock raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see the humor in my comment.”
“Only you would spew off a mouthful like that when all you had to do was say that you were fine,” Jim replied, enjoying the opportunity to tease his first officer.
Jim thought it was an innocent comment, certainly similar to banter that they’d exchanged on previous occasions. Maybe Spock was in a particularly bad mood, though, because the Vulcan’s efforts redoubled.
The next few minutes of the match consisted of a furious exchange of blows, with Jim barely able to keep ahead of the Vulcan. Finally, the infamous Kirk luck let him down. Spock feinted a blow with his hands, but instead crouched at the last moment and used a leg to sweep Jim’s feet out from underneath him.
With a soft ‘oof,’ Jim ended up on his back on the mat, with Spock pinning him down.
“Do you concede?” Spock demanded, eyes dark.
Jim grinned. “You forget, I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”
He twisted and managed to throw Spock off. The two men ended up in opposite corners again, circling each other warily. For a few moments, neither man saw an opening in the other’s stance. Again, though, Spock acted first, launching himself forward for a new attack.
The next several minutes was a blur for Jim, full of blows to be made and other blows to be blocked; he was moving on pure instinct by then. There were muffled grunts as one landed, although Jim couldn’t tell which of them made the sound. Eventually Jim realized that he was grinning from ear to ear. There was a certain joy in a purely physical fight and feeling your body respond to years of training.
The thought, though, proved a distraction and one that cost Jim. One minute, he was reflecting on the beauty of the sparring match, the next he was on his back again, Spock once more on top of him. The Vulcan had apparently learned his lesson because this time he was pressed far more tightly on top of Jim.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Jim quipped. He moved as unobtrusively as he could, trying to find a weakness in Spock’s hold on him.
Spock’s grip on Jim’s shoulders tightened. “Do you concede this time, Captain?”
“Captain?” Jim frowned. “I thought told you to call me Jim when we’re not on duty.”
His first officer took a deep breath. “That would not be wise.”
“Why not?” Jim tried a little more vigorously to get loose, hoping the conversation would distract the other man.
As Jim wiggled, though, he brushed up against something entirely unexpected. His eyes widened as Jim stared up at the other man. Was that an erection that he felt pressed against his inner thigh? One that didn’t come from him?
Spock had been watching Jim’s face carefully and immediately let go when he saw the captain’s expression change. A delicate green blush painted his cheeks as he quickly got to his feet. “Forgive me. . . . Jim.”
Jim wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, although he seemed to remember Bones mumbling something about Spock, something that had made Jim laugh at the time. Maybe Bones had been right. In any case, Jim was not going to let Spock out of the ring before they discussed it. He already knew the Vulcan well enough to know that if he let Spock get away before talking about what had just happened, they never would.
Moving quickly, Jim got to his feet and managed to catch up to Spock before the Vulcan got away.
“Wait just a minute. . . .” Jim ordered, grabbing Spock’s shoulder roughly and pulling the Vulcan to a stop.
Unfortunately for Jim, he either startled Spock or the intensity of the fight still lingered with the other man. For whatever reason, instead of speaking, Spock’s fist launched at Jim, striking him solidly on the jaw with his fist.
The last thing Jim thought before he lost consciousness was that Bones was going to kill him.
* * * *
“You know, when I suggested the two of you get together, this isn’t what I had in mind.”
Spock ignored the doctor’s dry tone altogether and watched as McCoy ran a tricorder over Jim’s still-prone body, replying stiffly, “We did not, as you suggested, ‘get together,’ other than to spar.”
McCoy’s eyebrows went up as he commented, “Sparring usually means holding your punches instead of treating your opponent like a marauding Klingon.”
Jim chose that moment to groan and start to come around, a hand going to his bruised and swollen jaw. Blue eyes blinked open and he mumbled, “Wha’appened?”
“Spock’s fist happened,” McCoy answered, shaking his head “C’mon, you. You’ve got a mild concussion I want to take control of before that thick skull of yours caves in.”
“‘S’my jaw, not m’head,” Jim muttered.
Spock took one arm while McCoy took the other and between them, got Jim to his feet. Once the Captain was upright, Spock told him, “I apologize for my overreaction, Jim. I…lost control.”
Jim’s grin was lopsided as he replied, “My own fault. Shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”
“How’d you grab him?” McCoy questioned, smirking a little.
Spock gathered from the way that Jim snickered, that the Captain would be fine. Reaching that conclusion, he stepped out from under his arm and said, “If that will be all, I’ll leave you to recover, Jim. Good night, gentlemen.”
As he walked to the changing area, he heard Jim belatedly ask, “Wait, did you say you suggested we get together?” and couldn’t help a faint twitch of his lips before repressing the grin at the doctor’s stammered answer before the doors closed.
It was some two hours later that Spock was in his quarters when the door chime sounded. Looking up from his datapad, Spock enquired, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Spock.”
Eyebrow arching at Jim’s response, Spock set aside the pad and walked over to the door, opening it with a swipe of the hand. He was relieved to find only a small bruise along the jaw and no swelling from the violent contact.
“Can I come in?”
Spock almost frowned at the subdued question, instead nodding and stepping aside. “Of course, Jim.”
Jim walked into the center of the room and faced him with an uncertain expression in place. It wasn’t one Spock often witnessed and made the other man look even younger. Rubbing the back of his head, Jim finally said, “I’m sorry if Bones made you uncomfortable earlier, Spock, he shouldn’t have ah, propositioned you like that.”
Spock hadn’t thought Jim would bring up the subject; obviously a wrong assumption on his part. Most humans, even promiscuous ones such as Jim, had difficulty actually talking about sex in a rational conversation. “I understand Dr. McCoy’s quandary. And it is only natural to seek out assistance when one is overwhelmed.”
Jim’s mouth shifted into a faint smirk as he echoed, “I’m overwhelming, huh?”
“You can be…strong willed,” Spock allowed.
Chuckling, Jim agreed, “I’ve heard worse, that’s for sure. But back to the subject, don’t worry about Bones. I won’t be putting him through the wringer anymore. Or, not as heavily anyhow. I didn’t pay close enough attention to him and I should’ve. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“And how will you rectify the situation?”
“I can control myself, Spock.”
Spoken as dry as the desert on Vulcan. Thoughtful, Spock confirmed, “I know you can, Captain, but the saying, “As goes the Captain, so goes the ship,” springs to mind. If you are unhappy or uncomfortable, so will the crew be.”
Jim snorted. “Being horny never killed anyone. I’ll manage.”
Spock nodded slowly and replied, “I’m sure you will.”
“Well, I’ll say good night, then. Just wanted to clear that up,” Jim said, walking back to the door. “Sorry to disturb you.”
Offering a faint smile, Spock assured, “It is never a disturbance, Jim. Sleep well.”
They both reached the door at the same time and Jim half-turned towards him. Glancing up at him, Jim gazed at him with a strangely sharp expression before observing, “Of course, it wasn’t my dick hard against your body.”
Spock instantly flushed, unable to control his physiological response. Before he could even attempt to do so, Jim grabbed him by his night shirt and hauled him in close, sealing their mouths together in a kiss that completely caught him off-guard. Instinct prompted Spock’s arms to lock around Jim and push him against the wall, the thrill of primitive, possessive urges surging through his body within seconds. He was fairly certain that Jim hadn’t any idea of what he’d just unleashed, but rational thought fled before he could explain.
Jim made a muffled noise and pushed back against Spock. The sound was pleasing, even as the movement inflamed him. Spock shoved Jim against the wall again and pinned him there with a knee between the human’s legs. Spock’s tongue mimicked the movement, pushing forward until Jim’s mouth opened for him. Spock gave himself wholly to the kiss.
Pulling back only as the body underneath him became completely pliant, Spock looked into Jim’s face. The pupil of Jim’s eyes had dilated and for once the younger man’s eyes were almost as dark as Spock’s. In fact, not only were they dark, but they were glassy too. It was Spock’s experience that Jim Kirk was always focused, even if that focus was on making mischief or the verbal banter he seemed to enjoy so much. To see the intellectually formidable Kirk so dazed was pleasing.
A shadow on Jim’s jaw distracted Spock and he realized it was the remnant of the bruise that Spock had inflicted earlier when they’d been sparring. Rather than guilt at his loss of control, Spock found that he enjoyed having his mark on Kirk’s face. In fact, he felt an immediate need to place another one on Kirk’s body. Spock gently nipped at the bruise and when Jim gasped at the sensation, lowered his mouth to the side of Jim’s neck. He trailed a thin trickle of sweat until he found a sensitive spot that suited his needs and then Spock bit down.
“Sp-spock,” Jim sputtered.
Words were not appreciated. Spock growled low in his throat and wrapped a hand around the back of Jim’s neck, holding the younger man in place while he sucked and bit at Jim’s neck. Jim’s hips arched forward, but Spock’s knee kept him against the wall, the Vulcan shamelessly using his superior strength to keep Jim in the position he wanted. He had one hand free, so when Jim started writhing, Spock thrust it in between Jim’s legs.
Jim was still wearing the thin exercise unitard and Spock could easily detect the human’s arousal. Even so, the cloth was between Spock and Jim’s skin and that was too much distance for Spock. As suddenly as he’d begun marking Jim, Spock left off. Jim sagged away from the wall as Spock separated from him, but that only made it easier for Spock to grab the neck of the unitard and rip down. Within moments, all that was left were rags on the floor.
Jim Kirk was gloriously nude in front of Spock.
Spock was grateful for his eidetic memory; his eyes only took seconds to drink in the sight, but he knew he would remember it for a lifetime. As Jim opened his mouth to speak, Spock kissed him deeply again and then carefully tossed the younger man onto the bed.
“Whoa,” was all Jim had a chance to say.
Having already been dressed in his nightshirt, Spock easily divested himself of the garment and hastened to join Jim on the bed. Once there, he covered Jim’s body with his own. When Jim opened his mouth to comment, Spock took advantage of that to press a deep kiss on his new bed partner. Jim Kirk was the perfect example of what humans referred to as ‘glib’ and Spock had no intentions of letting words get in the way.
The two men grappled on the bed, kissing and groping with wild abandon. It was rather like sparring and not just because of the physical exertion. Spock relished the feel of bare skin sliding against bare skin, the two surfaces becoming slick as Jim started to perspire. Every time the human opened his mouth to gasp or to say something, Spock simply covered it with his own. It was the first time he had successfully silenced Jim Kirk, although as expedient as the method was, Spock doubted he would ever have the opportunity to use it on the bridge.
Spock eventually felt his body’s pleasure grow to the point to where it started to become painful. It was past time to take their joining to the next level. The realization came during one of the times when Kirk was perched on top of Spock and Spock took the opportunity to slide one finger into Jim’s anal orifice while they were kissing.
Spock hissed the tight heat he found there.
Jim moaned softly and wiggled against Spock’s hand, causing the digit to go in a little deeper. Even in the depths of his desire, Spock noticed a slight grimace cross the human’s face. Most of Spock’s considerable mind was given over to the pursuit of the current physical pleasure, but a measure of his intellect was aware that the two of them would need assistance in order to join more fully.
Twisting his body, Spock flipped them, pinning Jim underneath him once more. The position allowed Spock to fumble at the bedside table for the vial of oil he kept there. He often found its light scent an aid for meditation, but it could serve a different purpose tonight. Hand shaking, Spock spilled some over his fingers and returned them to the opening to Jim’s body.
The Vulcan’s patience wore thin as time was needed to coax first two and then three fingers inside of Jim’s body. The human writhed against him, but Spock only allowed quick gasps between kisses and those solely for the purposes of breathing. Finally, Jim’s body accepted three fingers without too much physical resistance.
Breathing almost as hard as his human counterpart, Spock used the last of the oil to slick his erection as he finally released Jim’s mouth. Jim watched him avidly as Spock positioned himself over him. Spock put one hand underneath each of Jim’s knees and with something close to tenderness, spread them up and back. It was an awkward position for Jim, but left him complete accessible to Spock, which was exactly what he wanted.
Moving his hips forward, Spock positioned his cock at Jim’s opening and pressed forward. Jim cried out wordlessly and arched his back, allowing for easier penetration. Spock didn’t stop. He thrust forward slowly but steadily until he was fully sheathed. Only then did he allow Jim’s legs to rest on his shoulders.
The sensation of heat and tightness that Spock had felt earlier when his finger penetrated Jim was nothing to having his penis inside the other man. Spock’s eyes closed momentarily and when he opened them again, it was to see Jim looking at him once more with that wonderfully dazed expression. Spock leaned forward and kissed him deeply again. It only last a moment, though, as the friction of the movement aroused an undeniable need to thrust.
Spock held himself over Jim by bracing his arms against the bed. Jim’s hands twisted in the covers and Spock methodically thrust in and out. The movements were slow and even at first, but became more ragged as Spock gradually lost control. His body completely took over, answering an instinctive need to find completion. Spock was barely aware of the body underneath him, rocking in time with Spock’s thrusts.
Just as Spock felt his orgasm approach, he leaned forward again, Jim grunting as he was bent in an even more exaggerated position. Instead of kissing Jim, however, Spock’s mouth latched onto the mark he’d made earlier on Jim’s neck. Spock was beyond coherent thought, but as he bit down, he projected his feelings of possession towards Kirk.
Spock actually cried out as orgasm took him. He was aware of his body spasming inside of Jim’s, but the next he knew, he was prone on top of the human. Spock lay still for several minutes, waiting for his respiratory actions to slow. Only when he felt himself slide out of Jim’s body did Spock change position. He moved off of Jim and lay next to him.
Jim was not awake and Spock was unable to determine if the human was sleeping or unconscious. It was unusual for Jim Kirk to be so still and Spock took the opportunity to study the other man. As he did, Spock wasn’t entirely sure he liked what he saw.
When Jim Kirk entered Spock’s quarters a short time before, there had been one faint bruise on his jaw. Now that their coital activity had reached completion, Spock detected numerous bruises on the human’s body. Worse, there was a large red splotch on the side of his neck, which contained visible teeth marks.
Spock’s mind cast back over the last few minutes. While it was true that Jim had, as humans would put it, made the first move, Spock had not given the human much chance to speak during their encounter. In fact every time that Jim had attempted to vocalize something, Spock had deterred his efforts by covering Jim’s mouth with his own.
His actions, coupled with the marks on Jim’s body, led to only one logical conclusion.
Spock rose from the bed, his muscles protesting the movement. He ignored the stiffness and made his way to the communicator on the wall.
“Spock to Dr. McCoy,” Spock said into the device. There was a noticeable lag before McCoy answered.
“Damnit, Spock, this better be good,” McCoy’s voice contained its characteristic tone of ill humor.
“Captain Kirk requires your medical attention, doctor,” Spock told him. “You will find him in my quarters.”
McCoy’s exasperation was clear. “Don’t tell me, you two were sparring again.”
“No,” Spock answered him as dispassionately as he could. “I believe that I just raped the captain.”
* * * *
Even though sleep still clogged his mind, McCoy knew his hearing was fine. He just couldn’t believe what had just been said. “Say again?”
“I would prefer not to, Doctor. Please come to my quarters. And while I am under control now, you may avail yourself of a security detail, should you wish.”
McCoy rubbed his eyes as he rolled out of bed and got dressed, cursing under his breath the entire time. What the hell had happened in the scant hour that Jim had left the infirmary? Obviously he’d gone to see Spock, but there was no way that he believed the Vulcan even remotely capable of raping anyone, let alone Jim.
Still, a niggling sense of worry sped his movements and he grabbed his emergency kit and jogged down the hall towards Spock’s quarters. It wasn’t all that far to go since they were both senior officers, but long enough to get his nerves all twisted up. McCoy banged on the door and it immediately opened.
Stepping inside, he automatically catalogued the room and its occupants. He found bits of fabric on the floor, the remains of Jim’s workout clothing. Spock stood as far from Jim as possible, in the corner like an errant schoolboy. Jim was out cold on the bed, sheets draped discreetly up to his waist but not hiding the bruises that adorned most of his body. Anger shot through McCoy at the sight, mixed with not a little jealousy, but he forced himself to take a slow breath and stalk the rest of the way to the bed.
He sat on the mattress and ran a tricorder over Jim, relieved when it showed only minor contusions and a small tear in Jim’s rectum that wasn’t even bleeding. McCoy definitely noticed the bite mark, but then, Jim had been known to lay a few of his own territorial imperatives on McCoy in the past. There was no real sign of rape that he could see, given the faint smile on Jim’s face and the not-quite REM sleep indicated by the tricorder.
Looking over at Spock, he was surprised to find tension coiled in every part of the Vulcan’s body, nothing hidden from sight save his groin area, which was covered by a surprisingly small pair of underwear. Did Vulcans like lingerie?
Shoving the inane question aside, McCoy glanced back at Jim and carded his fingers through the soft, short hair and said quietly, “Jim. Jim, wake up now.”
Jim mumbled and then muttered something unflattering before his eyes opened to lock on him. Then he frowned. “Wait. Wasn’t I in Spock’s room?”
“Still are, loverboy,” McCoy replied dryly. “Next time, try not to scare the Vulcan by passing out on him. Give the poor man some warning.”
Eyebrows rising in surprise, Jim sat up and then grimaced. “Ow.”
Snorting, McCoy teased, “And now you know how I feel most of the time. Spock, he’s fine.”
Jim made a face at him and glanced at Spock, all levity fading as he took in the other’s tension. He carefully got off the bed and walked awkwardly over, asking, “Spock? What’s wrong?”
“I thought…” Spock’s words trailed off with uncharacteristic uncertainty.
McCoy wasn’t surprised. No matter what Spock’s erroneous conclusions maintained, Jim didn’t act one bit like he’d been raped. Because he hadn’t been, though Spock clearly still felt that had transpired.
Jim put a hand on Spock’s arm and prompted, “Thought what? What’s going on?”
While the situation probably called for tact of some sort, McCoy knew both men well enough to realize that only bluntness would clear the air. Sighing, he announced, “Spock thought he’d raped you.”
Jim’s jaw dropped, his expression aghast as he exclaimed, “What? Spock, you can’t be serious.”
“I assure you, Captain, I wish that I were not. I was…overly forceful and you sustained injuries during the…encounter.”
Mouth closing, Jim took a full minute to decide what to say. McCoy laid even odds as to which tack he would take.
Jim finally said, in a very firm tone, “What happened between us was completely consensual sex, Spock. Moreover, I started the whole thing if you’ll remember. As for the injuries, well, Bones can tell you the number of times I’ve done a job on him. Although, I have a new respect for the ease he has in taking me, that’s for damn sure. Never did that before.”
McCoy smirked. “I told you it was good.”
Rolling his eyes McCoy’s way, Jim continued, “Logically, if I’d had any objection to what you were doing, do you really think I wouldn’t put up a fight?”
It was Spock’s turn to open and close his mouth without speaking.
Jim gave a little sigh before promising, “I will always let you know, in no uncertain terms, if you’re doing something I don’t like. If you’re in the middle of a, uh, Vulcan thing, I’ll just kick you in the nuts. That should derail you just fine. It will, right, Bones?”
McCoy nodded and confirmed, “Oh yeah.”
“There, you see? Problem solved,” Jim finished, smiling shyly up at Spock.
Holding his breath, Jim rarely used that particular smile, McCoy wasn’t surprised when Spock actually smiled faintly in return. It was the ‘heartbreaker’ smile, the one that said, ‘please,’ and ‘you’re the best,’ and ‘little boy,’ all in one. McCoy was tempted to actually classify it as some kind of interrogation weapon because he was sure no one could stand against it. Not with those blue eyes staring up so winsomely.
And while not immune to it, Spock was also not oblivious to it on a psychological level as he replied dryly, “Do not think that I am unaware of your attempt at manipulation with that expression.”
Jim grinned outright at that and said, “That’s okay. Bones knows all about it too, but he still can’t resist it. So c’mon. I need to get some sleep.”
“You and me both,” McCoy retorted. “The next time one of you calls me after I’m in bed, someone better be on death’s door. And I’m going to start charging for all these after-hours visits, by the way.”
Jim laughed. “Like hell you are. Hey wait, where you going?”
McCoy’s eyebrows lifted and he turned back, away from the door. “To bed. Weren’t we just talking about that?”
Jim frowned and looked from him to Spock before asking, “Aren’t you going to sleep here, with us?”
McCoy sucked in a shocked breath so fast, he nearly swallowed his tongue. It was one thing to suggest Jim and Spock have some extra curricular activities together and quite another to jump into bed with both of them. He looked at Spock for guidance, since Jim was obviously not going to be any help in the matter. The Vulcan just made a small movement of his shoulders.
The Vulcan equivalent of, ‘I don’t know, what do you want to do?’ McCoy thought, acidly.
The problem was, he didn’t know what he wanted to do.
* * * *
Payback was a bitch. Or in this case, a green-blooded, pointy-eared hobgoblin.
Jim still couldn’t believe that Bones had acted as a pimp, trying to procure Spock’s ‘services’ for him. At first, Jim had been angry. He could handle his own sex life, thank you very much. Then he’d been ashamed as he realized how far Bones must have been pushed for him to take such an action. Once his eyes were opened, Jim resolved to stop taking McCoy for granted and to not take advantage of their friendship by being so relentless in getting his own physical needs taken care of.
Mostly, though, Jim had been intrigued about the idea of Spock. . . and sex.
Sure, he’d often admired Spock’s attractiveness. Jim wasn’t blind, after all. It had simply never occurred to him that maybe Spock would be open to taking their burgeoning camaraderie to another level. Once Bones admitted what he’d done, though, Jim couldn’t stop thinking about it. After, of course, he’d raked McCoy over the coals for propositioning Spock on Jim’s behalf.
Jim had gone to Spock’s quarters with the purest of intentions. He’d truly meant to simply apologize for Bones’ suggestion to Spock. The ensuing discussion had flamed his interest, mainly because he had an intense desire to wipe that bland expression right from Spock’s face. Kissing Spock had been an impulse, but one of his better ones, given the outcome.
Bones had suggested Spock as an outlet for Jim, at least that was what Jim had thought when he found out about it. He couldn’t help but notice Bones noticing Spock’s scanty attire, though, and Jim had to wonder if Bones had an interest as well. Leonard McCoy loved to complain, but Jim had learned that Bones’ grumblings often were a cover for something else. Given how much Bones grumbled about Spock, at the very least it could be said that the Vulcan was on McCoy’s mind. A lot.
And so Jim had invited Bones to stay with them. Although Jim enjoyed watching Bones’ reaction, he kept that from showing on his face. The offer was more than an attempt at payback, although that was a definite benefit. The idea of the three of them together just felt. . . right.
“Are you out of your fool mind?” Bones snapped once he’d finally managed to stop gaping at Jim. “I said I needed to sleep, not to be a piece of bread in a Jim Kirk sandwich.”
Jim grinned. “You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “I hate to break it to you, Jim, but not everything revolves around your libido.” McCoy bent to his emergency kit and pulled out a small instrument.
“What’s that?” Jim eyed it warily as Bones approached him with the thing. He still had misgivings about the doctor coming at him with medical instruments in hand.
“Oh, grow up,” Bones muttered. He grabbed Jim’s jaw and titled it up. “As much as I’d love to witness the bridge crew’s reaction to you showing up with a hickey big enough to go into orbit around, it doesn’t exactly comply with Starfleet’s idea of captainly dignity.”
“Right,” Jim tried not to wince when Bones waved his medical device at his neck. It wasn’t that bad, really, just a warm sensation.
From the corner of his eye, Jim noticed Spock shift position. He managed to glance at the Vulcan, earning him a grumble from Bones about holding still. It was worth it, though. Although he didn’t say anything to protest, Spock looked less than happy at his mark being removed from Jim’s skin.
“Sorry, Spock,” Jim told the Vulcan.
“Your apology is unnecessary, Jim,” Spock’s voice was even when he replied. “Dr. McCoy is correction. Such a mark, while not against Starfleet regulations, is not appropriate to an officer of your rank.”
Jim took advantage of the situation. “Look, the two of you agree about something.”
“Make sure you put it in your captain’s log,” McCoy advised him as he finished up removing Jim’s hickey and put his gadget away. “It’s not likely to happen again.”
McCoy moved towards the door and Jim reached out to him. “Come on, Bones, stay.”
Bones shook his head and headed for the door. “Smells like a bordello in here.”
Jim threw his hands out in frustration. “But it was your idea.”
“Good night, Jim,” McCoy tossed the farewell over his shoulder as he exited the quarters. “Try not to break him again tonight, Spock.”
An awkward silence settled over the remaining men after McCoy left. Shrugging, Jim turned towards Spock and smiled at him sheepishly.
“It really was Bones’ idea.”
Spock put his hands behind his back as he paced deliberately forward. “I am aware of that fact, Jim. The doctor, after all, did approach me first.”
“Bones will come around,” Jim assured him. “You’ll see.”
“Doctor McCoy was correct, however, in his opinion that this time would be best utilized for rest,” Spock continued.
“So, let’s go to bed,” Jim turned and looked at Spock’s sleeping platform. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but that’s okay.” He waggled his eyebrows at Spock. “Might be kind of fun.”
“Jim, your presence is not conducive to obtaining adequate rest,” Spock didn’t react to Jim’s flirting.
It took a moment for Jim to understand what Spock was saying. “Are you asking me to leave?”
“That would be advisable,” Spock answered calmly. From his cool demeanor, he could have been on the bridge fully dressed instead of in his quarters wearing a skimpy pair of briefs.
“Oookay,” Jim scratched his head. He thrived in chaotic situations, but the last few minutes had been confusing, even for him.
Jim turned to leave, but Spock stopped him by calling his name. Hoping for a reprieve, he swung back around. “Yeah?”
“I believe it would be best for you to borrow attire,” Spock told him. “The majority of the crew on the ship are human and human cultural morays frown on public nudity.”
Realizing that he was not only nude, but covered in the love marks that Bones hadn’t bothered to cover, Jim blushed. Even so, he didn’t allow his embarrassment to show any further than that. “Good idea, thanks.”
Spock dug out some nondescript clothing for Jim to borrow. As Jim pulled on the garments, he felt Spock’s eyes on him. Unfortunately, that was all. Spock didn’t react any further to Jim covering his body with clothing, just continued to watch him calmly. If it wasn’t for the burn in his ass, Jim would be hard pressed to believe that they’d been lovers less than thirty minutes ago.
“Well, good night,” Jim awkwardly waved at Spock.
“And to you, Captain,” Spock replied. “I hope you are able to obtain ample rest.”
Jim winced at the use of his rank instead of his name, but didn’t trust himself to comment on it. Instead, he just nodded and left. The corridors were thankfully empty; Jim didn’t know how he would have managed to greet any crew he might have passed.
Once he made it safely to his quarters, Jim threw himself on his bed, not bothering to remove the clothes that Spock had lent him. Despite Spock’s well wishes, rest was the last thing on Jim’s mind.
What the hell had just happened?
He’d just been looking for a workout, that was all, but he’d run into Spock and gotten more of a match than he’d been anticipating. Then Bones had admitted to propositioning Spock on Jim’s behalf and when Jim had gone to apologize, he’d jumped Spock, only to find himself thoroughly pounced on. And he’d bottomed for the Vulcan, something he’d never done before. Hell, he never imagined himself wanting to bottom. Not only had he wanted it with Spock, though, he’d enjoyed it.
Would really like it to bottom again.
The addition of Bones to the conversation had brought home that Jim now had two lovers on the crew. The only thing that seemed better than having both Bones and Spock as lovers was having all three of them together. There was an attraction between the other two, Jim was sure of it. Somehow, though, things had backfired. Instead of being nestled with two lovers, or even just one, Jim was in bed alone. He still wasn’t quite sure how that happened.
But he definitely knew he didn’t like it.