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Jim lets out a loud whoop as soon as the servant shuts the door behind them. “Would you look at the size of this thing?” Jim says in awe as he crosses to the large bed in the center of the room.
“Indeed. It is in fact over 3 meters wide. Perhaps it is intended to accommodate more than two persons at any given time,” Spock notes, eyeing the bed warily from his position near the door.
It’s another one of those missions where Jim and Spock have to pretend to be married in order to avoid untoward sexual advances from the leader of the planet. The sheer number of cultures that use intercourse as a form of diplomacy continues to astound Spock and while Jim never takes advantage of the situation, the deception makes Spock decidedly uncomfortable because if they are bonded then they must share a room, and other supposed intimacies. In this case, the bed is nearly the size of Spock’s office on the enterprise. Sharing, should he require rest, will not be a hardship.
Jim flops down on the bed with an almost obscene groan of pleasure. “Oh. My. God.” He undulates his body in a manner reminiscent of a fish gasping for air before declaring, “Best bed ever. Spock, you have to feel this.”
Spock chooses not to respond. Then Jim turns over abruptly, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed as he rises on his hands and knees. “It’s been forever since I’ve slept in a bed this big,” he says gleefully as he bounces on is hands, causing the mattress to issue a quiet exhalation with every bounce. “Or this soft,” he adds. Flopping back down onto his stomach, Jim nuzzles the covers. “Can we stay here forever?”
“Unlikely as we both have duties aboard the Enterprise which we must resume after the conclusion of our mission,” Spock replies.
“Party pooper,” Jim mumbles into the linens before pushing himself up onto his feet. As their eyes meet, Spock feels the most curious sensation of claustrophobia; as if Jim is two yards closer to him, in his personal space rather than across the room. The feeling dissipates immediately as Jim strips off his tunic and undershirt in one swift movement.
Spock is acutely aware of how long it takes him to swallow.
“You actually gonna share with me tonight?” Jim asks, stopping midway through unlacing his left boot. Jim makes quick work of his boots and Spock sits primly on the edge of the bed to begin removing his own. If he focuses on the sensation, he feels tired. Perhaps a night of slumber would be preferable to meditation.
Jim unceremoniously shucks off his pants and meanders to the bathroom attached to their room clad only in black briefs. As always, Spock fights the rise of irritation at the sight of Jim’s mostly-naked form. A person should not be so aesthetically pleasing. It is not logical. So he looks away as he removes his own blue tunic. Spock will sleep in his undershirt, because, unlike certain starship captains, he understands modesty.
Spock’s frustration is interrupted by a gasp from the bathroom. He crosses to the doorway immediately, slightly concerned, only to find Jim gripping the edge of an oversized bathtub.
“Jacuzzi,” Jim says reverently. Spock takes a small step back when confronted with the prospect of so much water in one place. He does not relish the idea of being submerged in water, even if it is hot. Jim quickly turns on the taps before hooking his thumbs into his briefs. Spock exits the bathroom before he must be exposed to further unrequested nudity.
He is unable to reach a satisfying meditative state and he blames it on one James Tiberius Kirk. Accessing the most recent scientific publication on his padd, Spock settles under the covers onto the abundant pillows and silently appreciates the comfort.
--
The Jacuzzi is heaven. Absolute heaven. How long had it been since he had been in a bathtub? God, he couldn’t remember. He relaxes into the feeling of the jets on his back and closes his eyes. Unbidden, the image of Spock’s face while he undressed rises to the front of his mind and he smirks. He likes getting under the Vulcan’s skin and he loves the way his face turns slightly green, his lips purse and his eyes go blank whenever Jim removes clothes around him. It’s fucking flattering.
Also, it’s funny as hell.
Absently, he wonders how long he has been in the water. It’s still hot, but his fingers are starting to prune. He feels slightly disappointed that he’s going to have to get out of the tub when he remembers the bed. Oh, the bed. The bed he’s going to share with Spock. The smirk turns into an all-out grin as opens the drain before stepping out the water. He towels himself methodically and considers exiting the bathroom without putting his briefs back on. Nah, he thinks, better not risk it.
Jim re-enters the bedroom as he towels his hair briskly and finds Spock lying on the left side of the bed reading something on his padd. His breath hitches at the sight; the Vulcan’s dark underclothes starkly contrasting with the white of the linens, his gaze focused on his reading. Chucking the towel on the floor, Jim crawls into the bed next to Spock, immediately traversing the meter between them and pressing up against Spock’s side. His first officer stiffens and his eyes shift from the padd to Jim’s upturned face. “Please remove yourself,” Spock says, his tone icy.
“Nope. Want to cuddle,” Jim says, nuzzling his face into Spock’s chest. He can feel Spock’s heart beating low in his chest, faster than a human’s and Jim squeezes his arms around Spock’s torso. He hums contentedly.
There is a moment of silence before Spock says quietly, “Your hair is wet.”
“Yep.” Jim is sort of surprise Spock hasn’t hurled him across the room yet and he wonders what Spock would do if…
Jim runs his hand down Spock’s chest and gently untucks his undershirt before gliding his fingers upward until they contact Spock’s bare abdomen. Jim feels his stomach muscles flutter beneath the pads of his fingers and he grins. Feeling emboldened, Jim props himself up on his elbow and grabs the padd from Spock’s hands before arching over him to set it on the table beside the bed. “What are you doing, captain?”
Jim chuckles softly at the sudden return to his title. “Feel free to stop me if you get uncomfortable,” he says, his body still arced over Spock’s. When he receives no response, he smiles and resettles against Spock’s side. He lifts Spock’s shirt, this time with both hands, running the flats of his palms against his ribcage. When Spock’s shirt is firmly hiked up above his nipples, Jim surveys the more than marginal expanse of skin he has exposed. On a whim, Jim kisses the spot nearest him and is surprised by the sharp intake of breath above him. He raises an eyebrow at Spock who replies, “In my experience, such behavior does not equate cuddling.”
He blushes as he says it.
“Yeah well, maybe I meant I want to suck your dick,” Jim says, a hint of teasing in his tone.
“I would be…amenable to that.”
It is the last thing Jim expects Spock to say and he collapses in a fit of giggles against Spock’s chest. “Really?”
“Vulcans do not lie.” And if Spock could sound huffy it would sound just like that. Jim makes a happy sound and presses a series of kisses down the trail of hair leading to Spock’s belly button.
Kicking the covers down, Jim focuses his attention on the fastening of Spock’s trousers. With a swift twist of his fingers and a series of deft movements, Jim suddenly has Spock’s half-hard dick in his hand. Jim presses an open-mouthed kiss to the side of it and revels in the way it hardens against his tongue as he swings his leg over Spock, effectively straddling him. He looks up at Spock and pauses upon seeing his half-lidded eyes and slightly open mouth. God, it is the hottest thing Jim has ever seen.
Feeling inspired, Jim grips Spock’s green-flushed penis and strokes it roughly. Spock’s breath comes a little-hard and Jim feels like cheering so he leans down to take the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the unbelievable heat and removing his hand as he tries to take most of it in his mouth. He only gets about four inches down before the head presses against the back of his throat and he gags around it slightly, trying to relax his throat. He flutters his tongue against the underside and lets his saliva down around the shaft to pool around the base. He pulls back and replaces his hand as he continues to jack Spock slowly with a slight upward twist of his wrist.
Spock’s cheeks have taken on a decidedly green tinge and his breathing is shallow. Jim keeps up the pace with his left hand and asks, “Spock?”
The Vulcan’s eyes open in response so Jim takes that as permission to continue. “Can I kiss you?” And Jim is a little ashamed when his voice cracks on the question. Spock immediately takes Jim’s hand into his own and Jim’s heart thuds in his chest when he remembers the implications of the way Spock runs his fingers against Jim’s.
Jim gasps at the feeling and his left hands stops its motion as he stares at the look of Spock’s pale fingers as they ghost over his. Then Spock stops as well. “Jim?”
The soft question brings Jim to himself and he groans. “Don’t stop.”
Spock looks at him strangely but resumes kissing him just before Jim can’t take it anymore and he leans down to kiss Spock on the mouth. It’s been a while since he kissed a man, and he’s never kissed a Vulcan so he’s pleasantly surprised by the rough heat of it. And he thinks he should thank Uhura next time he sees her, because, God, Spock knows how to use his mouth. He bites and sucks on Jim’s lips before deepening the kiss and Jim thinks he could explode right there if Spock would just keep kissing him. But he pulls back, because he has a promise to keep.
Jim is about to take Spock back into his mouth when hot fingers brush against his temples. Jim understands the unspoken question but he quirks a brow and Spock explains, “It will make the experience more enjoyable for both of us.”
So Jim nods and the next moment he is engulfed by everything that Spock is. He can feel Spock’s dick in his mouth, but he also knows how his mouth feels. Warm, but not hot, yet so wet and deliciously mobile. He tries to take Spock all the way down and with the distraction of how it feels, he manages to push past his gag reflex until his nose is pressed against Spock’s pelvis and he swallows against the tip of Spock’s cock. He feels too big for his skin and as he sucks his way back up, he feels sensory overload. He is so hard and it feels so good. He jacks Spock’s dick, once, twice before swallowing him down and then he’s coming, they’re coming and it’s hot and fast and intense before everything goes black.
He comes to with his face pressed into Spock’s stomach and the feeling of a hand combing gently through his hair. “Oh my god,” he says and the hands stops, but when he doesn’t go to move, the hand resumes its soft petting. “I just came in my pants.”
“I would like to point out that I, too, am still wearing my pants.”
“S’different,” Jim mumbles, letting his lips move against Spock’s skin. He flips over so that he can lie on his back but his side is still pressed fully against Spock’s .
Spock reaches and interlaces their fingers. Jim smiles.
“I told you,” Jim says, “Best. Bed. Ever.”