When his Captain had broken the Prime Directive to save him, Spock had not understood. He did not understand why a man who could tentatively be called a friend, would risk his career, his ship, and the lives of his crew just for him. The good of the one did not out weigh the good of the many. Even after the Captain, after Jim, had lost his captaincy and the Enterprise, Spock had not understood. Even after watching Admiral Pike die, even after watching Jim flirt with Dr. Markus, even after Jim was nearly lost in the jump between the Enterprise and the Vengeance, he did not understand. It was not until he was kneeling next to Jim, a plate of transparent aluminum separating them, watching this man who seemed practically immortal, die a slow painful death, that he understood. The realization that his friend was dying, that he had thrown everything he cared for, the closest thing to a home he had, away just to save Spock. That Jim cared for him in a way far more profound than friendship, was made all the worse by the realization that Spock was too late to return the favor. Spock could not save his friend. He did not know that he could return Jim's regard quite so fully when he could not even do so for Nyota who was, until that moment, his best friend as well as girlfriend.
As he had watched Jim's smile droop, the brightness of his eyes fade, and his hand pressed to Spock's drop away, Spock had felt a rage so fierce it was like the fires of a volcano at the edge of eruption. He had not felt so overcome by emotion since the death of his Mother and the loss of his homeworld. He had left Jim there in that small room, the radiation damaging him even after death, and fled the ship. He had fled from that loss and allowed his anger to cover his grief, his guilt, and the realizations creepy in through his subconscious. He had fled to chase down Jim's murderer.
It all returned to Khan. The blame for Admiral Pike's death, for Jim's death, and everything that happened after. It could all be blamed on Khan. He had started it all going down hill. But Spock alone was responsible for what happened after.
5 Months 28 Days 7 Hours After Revival
Jim had been feeling a little off all week. Nothing bad enough to risk Bones' mother henning, but enough to make him careful. He had been feeling a bit overheated lately. In fact he had dropped the temperature in his cabin by three degrees already and was thinking he might have to drop it further. He had also been feeling antsy, and he only ever felt that way when his instincts were telling him something bad was eminent. As they were doing nothing more exciting than star charts, he didn't see anything dangerous occurring any time soon. Which of course made him even more antsy. He couldn't sit still, he was having trouble focusing, and now he was starting to have trouble sleeping. All of that was bad enough, but only an hour ago he had started to have another new symptom. At first he thought that his clothes were just making him itchy, that maybe the laundry had put too much starch in them or something. But that wasn't it. It didn't actually itch, but it was similar. His clothes just didn't feel right. He wanted out of them. He couldn't get comfortable in them, which also meant he couldn't sit still, which meant everyone on the Bridge kept glancing at him. And considering the reaction his body was having to the feel of his clothes shifting over his skin every time he moved, that wasn't a good thing.
"Captain," came the rich, velvety voice of his first officer. "Are you in need of Doctor McCoy's assistance?"
"What," asked Jim, his mind struggling to focus on something other than Spock's kissable lips.
"Are you in need of medical assistance?"
"No! No, I'm fine, Spock. Really." Jim tride to smile as confidently as he could, but based on the height of Spock right eyebrow, it wasn't very successful.
"If you are certain, Captain." Although there was no tone to his voice to suggest his skepticism of Jim's answer, Jim was still sure Spock didn't believe him. "I would recommend seeking out Doctor McCoy should you still have trouble after your shift."
'Yup,' Jim thought. 'Doesn't believe a word I said. Not that I believe it either.'
"Sure, Spock." Jim licked his lips and strained not to stair at Spock's ass as the half-Vulcan walked back to his station. That ass was made for fondling, so round and pert. God, he wanted to garb it with both hands and use it to pull Spock into him so he could lick at those lips, suck that tongue into his mouth, let Spock pinch his nipples, maybe even let Spock sit in The Chair so Jim could ride the Vulcan -
Jim flushed and forced his eyes back towards the view screen, blushing an even darker red when he realized Sulu was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Nervously, and more than a little embarrassed, he slowly crossed one leg over the other to try and hide the tent that had formed at the front of his regulation pants, which felt far too tight. Sulu's eyebrows shot up higher as he watched the move, a smirked tugging slightly at the corners of his lips. Fuck, could all of his crew perform the Eyebrow of Shame save for him?
Jim blushed as he realized that Sulu must have figured out that Jim had just gotten a stiffie.
"You know, Jim," Sulu commented in a husky voice, his legs spreading wide as he turned to fully face Jim. "I would be glad to teach you how to handle a proper sword after Alpha shift is over?"
The double entendre should not have been enough to make Jim squirm, and it certainly shouldn't have been enough to make Jim's dick jump in his pants, growing hard enough that the bite of the zipper was just this edge of painful. Licking his lips again, cheeks flushed bright red, hands clutching at the arm rests of the chair, Jim tried not to embarrass himself before the entire Bridge Crew.
"You ...uh, you think you can teach me to handle a sword?"
"I don't think, Captain. I know." Sulu smirked wider, his dark eyes somehow seeming all the darker, his voice dropping another octave, making Jim squirm and Chekov turn to watch them.
The young Russian's gaze was jumping between the two of them with confusion for a moment. He turned to glance over his shoulder at Spock who had also turned, with the rest of the crew, to watch whatever was unfolding between Jim and Sulu. Jim tried not to break his starring contest with Sulu to look over at Spock, or to Chekov who was also beginning to shift in his seat, eyes drifting over Jim's body with a growing heat that could rival Chernobyl. It was so hard not to blink or look away when the smoldering gaze was making him harder and harder by the second. His dick was pulsing in his pants, a long dollop of pre-cum already leaking out of the slit, sliding to settle down the length of his rigid penis.
Sulu and Chekov's nostrils flared as Jim felt another long spurt of pre-cum soak his turgid length, sliding over his balls and down his crack, and leaving a spreading damp patch at the front of his pants. He was getting uncomfortable, everything from his waist down starting to feel wet. Jim let out a shaky breath as Sulu and Chekov scooted to the edges of their seats, getting as close to him as possible without abandoning their stations. He could hears the jerky footsteps of people standing behind him beginning to approach him as well. A nearly un-voiced whimper passed his lips as a heavy heat settled in Jim's gut. The shuffle of footsteps behind him got louder and he thought he heard a couple of punches being thrown, but any comprehension of that vanished the moment he felt the strong cool hand of his First Officer settle on his shoulder.
Jim's eyes rolled back in his head as the sudden orgasm flooded his system, causing his body to shudder and press back into Spock's hand.
Spock's hand squeezed Jim's shoulder once as his body began to recover from the aftershocks of the sudden orgasm. As awareness began to come back to him, the embarrassment he had been feeling increased tenfold as he saw that the entire Bridge Crew was watching him. Many of them with hungry eyes.
Jim caught sight of Uhura and Yeoman Rand who were watching with worried expressions. As if gaining strength from standing by each other the two women stepped forward, distracting Spock while addressing Jim.
"Captain, I think it is best if we were to escort you to Sick Bay," Uhura stated, a narrow eyed glare being shot at each of the men circling the Captain.
Looking away from Spock, who was still crowded up against him, Jim gave a jerky nod. Standing, he tried not to wobble and embarrass himself further as he walked over to Uhura and Yeoman Rand. Not looking back as the two women moved to stand on either side of him. Jim called back over his shoulder to Spock who was moving to follow them onto the lift.
"You have the Bridge, Mr Spock."
As the doors to Turbolift closed Jim let out a shaky breath. Spock had looked ready to follow them into the lift even after being given command. "Thanks. I don't know what just happened."
Yeoman Rand nodded, and Uhura looked away from where Spock would have been standing on the other side of the door, a worried look on her face.
"I'm not sure it was entirely you that caused," Uhura waved her hand in the direction of the Bridge, "Whatever that was. None of the men were acting like themselves."
Jim nodded, not sure how to answer what wasn't even a question, when he still felt wet and overly sensitive. Every brush of his clothes against his skin was like a thousand hands caressing his body. It felt nice at first but as the minutes passed and they made their way off the Turbolift and down the corridors to Sick Bay, the feeling just became painful. He wanted out of his clothes! He needed to be out of his clothes!
Another whimper escaped him as the movement of his pants began to make his penis grow hard, despite the irritating flickers of pain the clothes were also causing him. Uhura and Yeoman Rand shared worried gazes behind his back as he tried to move off down a different corridor. He didn't know why he started to go that way when he knew he had to keep going straight to get to Sick Bay, but there as something down that other corridor that just smelled good.
"Come on, Jim," Uhura said in a tone he thought might have been worry. Her hand lightly rested on his arm, guiding him back on course.
"I'm sure you are, but let's have Dr. McCoy give you a look-see just in case."
Before Jim could say anything in protest the Sick Bay doors were opening for them and Yeoman Rand was behind him, shoving him towards the first open bio-bed, while Uhura went to find Bones. Scowling Jim wondered when his Yeoman had gotten so bossy. He didn't remember her being so bossy.
"I'm only being bossy for your own good, Captain. Now lay back and let the doc look you over so Uhura and I can stop worrying needlessly," chided Yeoman Rand.
"When did you get psychic?"
"I'm not, Captain. You've just been thinking out loud."
"You have," muttered Bones as he approached the bio-bed, tricorder in hand.
"Oh." Jim blinked, trying to block out the bright lights of Sick Bay as his Yeoman forced him to lay down. "I feel hot. And sticky. And wet. Why do I feel wet down there?"
"Down where," Bones asked in a worried tone, waving Uhura and Rand out of the exams area as Nurse Chapel quickly made her way over to screen off Jim's bed.
Jim blushed, and giggled a little uncontrollably. This was all too much. He felt out of control as he hadn't since he was a teen. Even worse than then actually because he sure as shit wouldn't have let himself be practically molested in public. Let alone want it to happen again. Repeatedly. Shit. Something was really wrong.
"Jim. Jim I need you to focus."
Jim whimpered as Bones leaned closer to him, one hand coming to rest against Jim's jaw to make Jim look at him. Need surged in his veins, and he licked Bones thumb as it ghosted out to trace over his lips. The contact startled his friend though, and Bones jerked back from the bed, pupils dilated and pants tented.
"Doctor," Nurse Chapel questioned.
"There is definitely something wrong. He is producing some kind of pheromone that seems to be effecting men."
"Can you continue?"
Bones steeled his resolve and approached the bed, where Jim was squirming around on the sheets, hands pulling at his uniform with a worrisome desperation. "I can. Get me a face mask please."
"Right away, Dr. McCoy." Nurse Chapel dashed out from the closed off space in search of a face mask to filter any pheromones or other things that could be effecting the Captain and the people in his vicinity. It did not take long to find one, as they were carefully stored within easy reach of all the bio-beds for just such an occasion. She put one on herself as she grabbed one for Dr. McCoy. There was no use potentially spreading whatever it was if it was air born. Calling out to another nurse, Nurse Chapel told them to activate quarantine procedures and to get everyone that was on the Bridge down to Sick Bay and into secured rooms.
Dr. McCoy put the mask on almost before she could let it go, and she quickly advised him she had already gotten the quarantine procedures enacted. Bones thanked and the two of them detached the bio-bed from the sensors mounted in the wall and pushed it, and Jim, into the quarantine room designated for the Captain and command crew. As they moved to rebook everything back up in the new room Bones tried asking Jim again where he was feeling 'wet.'
Still not at his most lucid, Jim replied, "My ass. Why does my ass feel wet, Bones?"
Cursing, Bones began pulling at his friends pants, practically ripping them off Jim in his hurry to find out what the devil was going on.
A shriek, the loud clatter of a medical tray being knocked to the floor, and the sudden vice-like grip on his arm, made Bones look away from where he was almost face planted in Jim's crotch, hands still on Jim's zipper. Spock stood behind him eyes smoldering like Bones hadn't seen since he tried to strangle Jim after Vulcan was consumed by the artificial black hole. Cursing loudly he tried to pull his arm out of the Vulcan's grip, only to freeze in place at the loud growl that issued from deep in the First Officer's chest. Warily, Bones glanced away from Spock to where Nurse Chapel was already getting to her feet.
"Bones," Jim moaned, wiggling his hips and trying to kick on his pants now that the fly was down. Bones looked away when he noticed that Jim's had gone commando this morning and his dick already pushing out the opening in his pants.
The growl in Spock's throat grew all the louder and with surprising suddenness, Bones found himself flung across the room, landing in a heap just a few feet away from Nurse Chapel, the fallen medical instruments, and the crowd that had formed around the quarantine room door. Deciding retreat was the better part of valor, Bones grabbed Nurse Chapel's hand and darted out of the room, sealing it behind him.
"Stop staring and get back to work! Some of you should be in quarantine as well. Nurse's get them out of the way!"
Bones turned to look back through the glass at his friend, hoping that Spock hadn't hurt him. He need not have worried though. On the other side of the glass Spock was pulling off his own clothes, tossing them every which way, while one hand stroked through Jim's hair with a gentle affection that Bones hadn't thought Spock capable of. Fighting back the need to interrupt them, to protect his best friends non-existent virtue, Bones hit the panel by the door, clouding the glass so that passerby's couldn't look in on the two.
"Doctor," Nurse Chapel interrupted. "What do you need us to do?"
Rubbing his palms over his eyes, Bones strode out of the quarantine corridor and back into the main area of Sick Bay. "I need you to keep doing your regular duties. Get blood work done for everyone showing any sign of symptoms like Jim's or Spock."
"And the Captain and Commander Spock?"
"I'll deal with those two. No one is to go to their quarantine room without my express permission, and the glass stays clouded."
"Got it," Nurse Chapel nodded briskly and turned back to complete her assigned duties, leaving Bones to collapse into his desk chair and wonder what God he had pissed off to deal with shit like this.
Jim didn't know what was wrong with him. He had felt fine this morning, maybe a little achy around his stomach, and okay, maybe he had been feeling hornier than normal for the last couple days. But he hadn't gotten laid in over five months! So being a bit horny was normal, right? There was no reason he could think that he would feel like this now. Like he was burning up alive, like he was going to crawl out of his own skin if he didn't get someone's hands on him right. This. Instant. Even back in the days were he was mostly drunk or high, and fucking some alien chit, he had never felt quite this odd. He had never in his life felt like he needed someone to plow him into the mattress until his legs turned to jello, like he would go mad from the unresolved sexual desires if they didn't.
If all that wasn't bad enough he was finding that he didn't care who fucked him as long as they smelled good, like Sulu had, like Bones had, like Spock had. God, Spock had smelled so good, like cactus flowers, and dark chocolate. He wanted to rolled himself in the smell that had been coming off of Spock. He wanted to kneel down and present his ass to Spock like he was a bitch in heat.
He was a bitch in heat! That's what this was, wasn't it. He ate something, been drugged, something, and it was fucking making him go into heat. He should have recognized the signs. He had dated a Caitian female his second year as a cadet, and she had gone into heat while they were dating. The side effects had been worse than PMS. She had complained about everything smelling worse than normal (something he had started to notice last night), the vicious mood swings, the way she always felt feverish, where touch hurt and hurt so good, and where she basically couldn't stand to be dressed for any length of time, not even the time it took her to cross the courtyard from her dorm to his because she had to have him naked and right that very second because she felt empty inside. Oh god, just thinking of it made the emptiness in his ass ache with a need to be filled. He had never wanted to have someone's cock up his ass this badly before, and the had been times where he had been near desperate for a good shag. Or at at the time he had thought he was desperate. Now he knew what real desperation was, because he didn't care if Chapel was right there. He needed Bones naked and plowing into him right now.
Moaning his friends nickname with a vulgar tone of lecherous desire and desperation, Jim wiggled his hips and tried to kick his pants off. Gasping gratefully when the zip gave way and his cock could spring free into the open air, pre-cum practically flowing like a waterfall down its turgid length. Cracking open an eye Jim nearly came at the sight of Spock flinging Bones across the room like he was as light as a feather, his chocolate brown eyes burning a hole into Jim soul and he stalked forward. Wiggling as suggestively as possible, Jim tried to roll over and present himself to Spock like these new crazy instincts were demanding. But the Vulcan's hand gripping the front of his uniform shirt stopped that. Jim looked up at Spock not sure what to do when one side of him wanted this more than anything he ever had before, and the other was screaming that something was bloody fucking wrong and he need to stop this right now!
As if he could sense the competing impulses, Spock ripped Jim's shirt from his body with one hand and pulled his pants off with another. While Jim was marveling over the carnal nature of the move Spock began pulling own clothes off, flinging them about the room with one hand and stroking his fingers through Jim hair with the other.
After that everything seemed to switched to warp speed. Before he knew it Spock had crawled on top of him and positioned Jim's legs over his shoulders, exposing the wrinkly little opening to Spock intense gaze. Jim released some begging noises he was none too proud of, when Spock stroked a single finger over his opening, causing the muscle to twitch and wink at him, releasing a foreign slick substance that had Spock's eyes practically rolling back into his head.
Spock growled again, two fingers sliding into Jim's body with an unnatural ease.
Jim's back arched off the bed, his hands grabbing at the sheets of the bio-bed he was still on, as if it would prevent his world from flipping over. It changed nothing, though it did make him feel more grounded when the slick, tapered head of Spick's cock breached for the first time. He mewled in pleasure, the sound embarrassing him beyond belief, but if the way Spock's cock jumped inside him was any indication, Spock loved the sound. So maybe it wasn't so embarrassing if it got Spock to thrust inside him hard enough to jerked the bed into the wall. The rational part of Jim's mind faded to the back ground as they moved together, Spock bring Jim to orgasm in an unexpected rush as his cock slid across Jim's prostrate, the flexible little nubs on the underside of Spock's cock teasing the orgasmed from him, while keeping Jim's dick from going soft as the crest of pleasure faded.
Jim went limp, trying to catch his breath even as Spock continued to thrust inside him. "Spock," he cried out, muscles clenching as Spick grazed his prostrate again.
Jim's legs slipped off Spock's shoulders and Jim wiggled against Spock until the Vulcan released his grip on Jim for a brief moment. Jim closed his eyes and relished the feeling of Spock's still hard cock resting inside him. He took in the feel of it, enjoying the feeling of fullness it brought him, enjoying the strange sensation of Spock's pulse through the heavy flesh. It had been years since he let another man take him. He just couldn't trust enough of them to have him in such a vulnerable position, but right now, even as Spock finally flipped him over and jerked his hips up into the air, he knew he could Spock with this.
Spock moved in and out of him for what seemed like days. His Vulcan wrung two more orgasms from Jim before he sprawled out over Jim's back and buried his face in Jim's neck, sucking dark hickeys on the pale column as his dick swelled, the nubs swelling too until they locked Spock inside him. Jim cried out in pleasure as he felt the warmth of Spock's cum filling him, in jet after jet of thick pleasure.
"It's been two days, Leonard. We have to do something," demanded Uhura.
Bones scowled and paced around the briefing room. Sulu and Chekov nervously watched him, while Scotty type away at his pad with one hand and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth with the other.
"According to the scans I was able to get while they slept this, heat for lack of a better word, should end sometime today or tomorrow."
"But they have barely eaten in two days!"
"Nyota," Bones said in as calm a voice as possible. "We are doing everything we can. It's unfortunate that this happened but all we can do is wait it out."
"I don't like it."
"You think I do," countered Bones. "I was the one who brought Jim back with Khan's blood even though we hadn't had time to check for any possible side effects. It's my fault."
"Wouldn't it be Khan's fault," chimed in Chekov.
Bones scowled to hide the pleasant thought that this whole debacle could be blamed on someone else. Really, it was a pleasant thought because he really did not want to be the one responsible for altering the Captains gender into something alien, and as complex as what the blood-work and scans were showing.and he especially didn't want to be the one to take the blame when Jim had to file a report with Starfleet about this and the little gift it left behind.
Licking his lips nervously, Bones looked down at the screen, and the scan showing the fertilized fetus that had started to grow in the new organ attached to Jim's rectum. Yeah, this was all Khan's fault.