Jim silently runs through the calculations for the new Millennium Problem as he walks the halls of the new Vulcan Science Academy, looking for the older version of his first officer. Jim and Chekov and Scotty are engaging in a playful competition amongst themselves over who can correctly solve the problem first. They don’t really do it for the credits (or the recognition of the mathematical and/or scientific communities). No – the most important prize is the bragging rights. And Jim finished the last one first, and he really does not want to give up his title.
"Mmph!" Jim feels the breath knocked out of him as he walks into something tall, and warm, and completely immovable, and he would have fallen on his ass if not for the hot bands of steel that wrap around his biceps to catch him.
"Are you injured, Captain?" an emotionless voice inquires, as Jim stares forward at a broad chest. He looks up to see a handsome young Vulcan - younger than Spock, certainly. Perhaps 23 or 24 - it is difficult to tell. Jim lets the last of the numbers run through his mind in an effort to suppress his blush over his clumsiness, even as he gathers his thoughts to reply.
"I’m not hurt," Jim replies. "Sorry for not paying attention to where I was going. It was illogical of me."
The Vulcan raises an eyebrow at him, probably in response to the tease in his voice - and do they teach a class on that here, because no matter how hard Jim tries, he can never quite master that? But Bones can do it, so maybe it is just Jim - or maybe Bones is part-Vulcan? Jim tries to suppress the amusement he feels at that thought (and also the thought of how his best friend would respond if he ever let that slip in front of him – not even Spock could protect him from the hyposprays of vengeance), even as he realizes that the Vulcan still has not removed his hands from Jim's arms.
"Your mind is most dynamic, Captain," the Vulcan comments. "It is quite fascinating."
Oh, well, there goes the embarrassment again. No one has ever called his mind "dynamic" or "fascinating" before.
"Most dynamic," and now the Vulcan is lightly caressing Jim's arms, as if that will increase his exposure to Jim's mind - and who knows? Maybe it will. The human really has no idea how touch telepathy works with Vulcans. But if he is going to be felt up, he feels that he at least deserves a name.
"Um...well, thank you, I suppose," Jim replies.
"Thanks are illogical, Captain," and he cannot suppress his amusement at that phrase - it is exactly what Spock would say in this situation (not that Spock would ever call his mind "dynamic" or "fascinating" or anything like that – even though they are friends, his first officer is much more likely to call Jim “troubling” than anything complimentary).
"Sure," he sighs. "So, do I at least get a name? Because when I tell my crew the story about how I nearly ran over a Vulcan at the Science Academy they aren't going to believe me unless I give them a name - and I am really not very good at making them up. You can ask my communications officer if you don’t believe me. Or Cupcake."
"I am called Stekev, Captain," the Vulcan replies, ignoring Jim’s other statements.
"Stekev," Jim tries the name out on his tongue, and decides that he likes it. "Well, Stekev, please call me Jim. Now, I am looking for Elder Solok – I can’t seem to find him in this maze. Do you happen to know where his research laboratory is?"
"Affirmative, Jim," Stekev responds, and the human blinks in shock.
No matter how many times he has told Spock to call him Jim (and no matter how many near-death situations they have survived together), his first officer has never obliged. Jim thought it was just a Vulcan thing, but apparently not. Not if this Vulcan concedes to calling him by his given name just moments after they meet.
"I will lead you," the Vulcan informs him, releasing one of Jim's arms and letting his other hand trail down to grasp Jim's wrist, pulling him along.
Well, his mind must be really dynamic, because he's pretty sure that Vulcans do not usually touch just anyone like this. Spock always stands so stiff, and he never lets anyone touch him casually – forget about his first officer actually initiating contact. And then Stekev actually deigns to make small talk with him as they walk through the corridors, and Jim is finding this entire experience sort of surreal. They talk about the Enterprise, and how New Vulcan is progressing, and Stekev's current research.
His Vulcan guide (who, by the way, lets his hand slip even further down so they are now holding hands!) stops at a large metal door and knocks. The door opens to receive the cool, older Spock - and Jim cannot help himself, he has not seen the old man in person in forever, so he pulls away from Stekev and launches himself forward for a hug.
"Sorry," he snuffles a bit into Sp-Solok's neck (he really should think of him as Solok in his head, otherwise he is going to get confused and call him Spock out loud, and that really would not do. Jim does not want to be the reason the universe ends).
"Do not concern yourself, Jim. I am pleased to see you, as well," the Elder replies, running a warm hand through Jim's hair as his other arm goes around the human's waist.
"He has a most . . . dynamic mind," Stekev informs Solok, and Jim hides his blush in his friend’s shoulder.
"Indeed," the Vulcan holding him replies, and Jim can hear the raised eyebrow in his tone.
"Well, thank you for showing me around, Stekev, and for the pleasant conversation. I really appreciate it," Jim says when he feels like the Vulcan staring contest going on over his head has lasted more than long enough.
"It was satisfying for me as well, Jim," Stekev responds. "Further interaction between us would not be unwelcome. Tonight at 1900 hours the debate team is meeting for a discussion of the Prime Directive. I would be most gratified if you would accompany me."
Jim blinks in shock at the invitation, before nodding his head in the affirmative. He raises his hand to perform the ta'al, but Stekev shocks him once more when he reaches forward for a handshake.
"Arrive at the Debate Room in Hall 3 at 1830 for introductions," Stekev informs him, before turning on his heel and striding down the corridor.
"Oh, Jim," Solok murmurs with something like amusement coloring his voice.
"What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is 'wrong,'" the Vulcan replies with a shake of his head, and then changes the subject to the Enterprise.
Damn Vulcan knows all of his weaknesses - Jim just cannot resist talking about his girl.
A few hours later
Jim blushes when his stomach interrupts his conversation with Solok.
“Sorry,” he mutters, glaring down at himself. Stupid stomach.
“It is I who should apologize, Jim,” Solok states softly, looking at him with fond eyes. “It has been so long that I have forgotten that humans have different needs than Vulcans. I have a replicator in my personal quarters, if you are in need of sustenance at this time.”
Jim’s stomach rumbles an affirmative, and so the blond just nods his head and follows the Vulcan back to a door at the back of the lab. He thinks it is kind of cool that the Vulcan Science Academy gives certain professors and researchers adjoining personal quarters to their laboratories – probably to “logically” increase efficiency, or something. But it really is convenient.
Solok allows him to order a meal from the replicator (a nice vegetarian salad, just to be polite), and then the Vulcan orders them some tea and leads them to a small table in the corner.
“I am given to understand that you are attending the diplomatic dinner tomorrow night. Will your first officer be in attendance?” Solok questions.
Jim looks up from his salad – and then he again remembers Solok’s warning during the Narada crisis, and wonders how he will possibly convince Spock to stay away from the dinner. Or maybe Solok will not go if he knows Spock will be there?
“I think he was planning on it,” Jim affirms. “Spock doesn’t usually like to let me mingle with alien species without his supervision. I think that he thinks they all want to steal me or something.”
“That is logical,” the Vulcan responds, and Jim has a feeling that he is being silently laughed at. “You do have a quite troubling propensity for being kidnapped.”
“Hey!” the blond objects with a little smile. “It’s not my fault that I’m so pretty all the aliens want to keep me as a pet!”
“So if Spock comes, does that mean that you won’t? I wouldn’t want the universe to end, or anything,” Jim says, half-seriously. He trusts Solok enough to believe he would never let that happen.
“That is what I truly wished to speak to you about, Jim,” Solok informs him. “When you inferred that universe-ending paradoxes would ensue if Spock and I met, you were incorrect.”
“But you said . . . ” the human protests.
Solok raises an eyebrow at him, and the resemblance between the two Spocks, over a hundred years apart, is just too eerie when he makes that expression.
“I implied,” the elder Spock admits. “I did not wish to interfere in the beginning of your relationship. “
“Sneaky Vulcan,” Jim mutters.
Solok’s eyes crinkle a little bit in a Vulcan smile, and the blond just sort of basks in his presence.
“So I don’t have to worry about tomorrow night?” he asks.
“You need not concern yourself with the universe ending, no,” the Vulcan confirms.
Well, that is a relief.
“Are you anticipating the meeting with the debate club?” Solok questions him, changing the subject. “Stekev seemed quite enamored with you.”
“Yeah,” Jim replies, and goddamn his fair complexion, because he is blushing yet again. “He said that my mind was 'dynamic.'”
“So I heard,” Solok says with mysterious look.
What is that supposed to mean?
Jim gets to the Debate Room at 1829 - and he's pretty damn proud of himself for not getting lost, because these corridors are like a fucking maze. Wouldn't it be logical to have a - oh, logical layout for the building?
"Greetings, Jim," Stekev says when he enters the room.
"Greetings," he replies, catching sight of three other Vulcan males and two females in the room. He once again lifts his hand for the ta'al - and once again Stekev reaches forward for a handshake.
"I am attempting to engage in human rituals as part of a research project," Stekev informs his peers when they look at him in shock. Jim does not really get what the big deal is - he thinks it is pretty cool that a Vulcan is trying to understand humans better. "It is my suggestion that you also participate in this human greeting ritual known as a 'handshake.' Research indicates that a firm grip and three pumping motions are best."
Jim kind of wants to mutter 'That’s what she said,' but he manfully refrains. See? He has self control – now if only Spock or Bones was here to see it. One of the Vulcan females - T'Mir, he will later find out - looks scandalized and leaves the room. The other Vulcans just look intrigued, and proceed to introduce themselves.
"Sardix," and the Vulcan reaches his hand forward in greeting, giving Jim a limp handshake. Jim gives him a smile, returning the shake - but when he tries to pull his hand back, the Vulcan does not seem to want to let go.
"Most dynamic," Sardix informs the others, and Jim blushes - he guesses Stekev told them all about this afternoon.
"I am called T'Pang, Captain," the female tells him as she too reaches forward for a handshake. Her grip is firm - almost too firm - as she vigorously pumps her arm precisely three times. Vulcans are always so literal.
"Please call me Jim, T'Pang," he replies with his best smile - she is very pretty, with intelligent light brown eyes. He really likes her eyes, which is probably why he does not realize that they are just standing there holding hands for a few seconds. T'Pang steps back without comment, and a short male Vulcan steps forwards.
"You may call me Kov," he informs Jim, tentatively brushing Jim's hand with his pointer and middle fingers before grasping it for a handshake.
Kov is quickly muscled to the side, before two of his three pumps are even finished, and the biggest Vulcan Jim has ever seen steps forward.
"Xon," and wow, his hands are really, really big - Jim feels like he could be squashed without an effort.
"Now that introductions are through," Stekev interrupts. "Perhaps we should begin our debate?"
Jim looks at the chronometer - it is only 1842, but he supposes there is no harm in starting early if they are all there.
"Okay, so the Prime Directive..." Jim begins. "What is the question we're debating, exactly?"
And thus begins one of the most mentally grueling discussions of Jim's life - and he enjoys every second...
"There is a big difference between theory and reality. I know that Starfleet holds the Prime Directive absolute, but when breaking it could potentially save millions of lives - well, out in space, when it's all your decision? It is a pretty difficult choice to make," Jim tries to explain to the Vulcans, but he can see that they do not quite understand. Rules are rules to them, meant to be followed.
He huffs, trying to think of a way to convey the reality of the situation - to make it more than just words. And then he remembers the older Spock on Delta Vega.
"Hey, can any of you perform a mind meld to see what I'm talking about?" Jim questions, unsure if all Vulcans have the skill, or if Spock is just special.
"I would . . ." "I can . . ." Stekev and Xon say at the same time, and then they basically turn toward each other and glare.
"Okay, okay, guys," Jim interrupts with a little nervous laugh. "Stekev and I can meld first, and then when we're done I will meld with Xon. Not a big deal."
The Vulcans blink at him, and then Sardix interjects: "It would be fascinating to meld with a human mind, in order to further explore the differences between species. I would also be willing to participate in such an experience."
"Anything for a Vulcan," the sole human responds with a smile. "I would be willing to meld with whoever wanted to do so."
T'Pang and Kov look at each other, and then quickly turn to Jim.
"Kov and I would also appreciate such an experience, Jim," she informs him primly, and she really is a knock-out.
Jim focuses on the matter at hand, turning to Stekev.
"So, should I sit down or something?" he asks.
"Assume whichever position will make you most comfortable," the Vulcan tells him, so Jim sits down on one of their hard-back chairs. Probably as comfortable as he is going to get (that is, not at all) but he remembers that when he melded with the older Spock it nearly knocked him on his ass. Wait.
"You will only see what I direct you to see, right? Because there is some pretty confidential information in there, and we probably should not meld if . . . "
The Vulcans in the room all immediately interrupt to reassure him that they will respect his mental boundaries, and only explore where they have permission. Jim is kind of shocked - they all seem pretty enthusiastic about this. And then Stekev steps forward, raising his hand in the traditional positions and placing it on Jim's face.
"My mind to your mind." 'My thoughts to your thoughts.'
Stekev's mind is like water, cool and slick as it slips into Jim's mind. He shows the Vulcan his memories of several First Contacts - situations in which the value of the Prime Directive were called into question. Stekev seems to wrap around the memories, absorbing them and analyzing them from several different views. And then the Vulcan's mind slips away from those memories, and he seems to be waiting for another memory from Jim. And the human, figuring that his new Vulcan friend wants to learn something new about Earth culture, decides to show him San Francisco and Starfleet Academy and somehow his mind goes to the Kobayashi Maru.
Stekev seems to like these memories and thoughts, and he spends a long time just exploring where Jim will let him. But then Jim remembers the others, and he does not want to be rude and keep them waiting, so he attempts to project this to Stekev. The Vulcan assents, something like reluctance seeming to color his thoughts, before he gently withdraws from Jim's mind.
"That was intense," the human whispers, feeling slightly dizzy but also - good.
"Indeed," Stekev replies, and his voice seems to be lower than before. "I am in need of the facilities. I shall return shortly."
And Jim just blinks as the Vulcan turns and leaves the room with an uneven stride. That was kind of strange. Maybe melds make Vulcans need to go to the bathroom? But he doesn’t remember Solok needing to go to the bathroom? He will ask – later, when he doesn’t feel quite so floaty.
"I believe it is my turn, Jim," Xon informs him, breaking Jim from his thoughts.
"Yes. Just, give me a sec," he requests, shifting to find a more comfortable position on the hard chair.
"You may sit in my lap, if that would be more comfortable," the large Vulcan offers, and Jim just sputters a bit before politely refusing.
"Ahh, no. I'm good to go," Jim smiles, tilting his neck to offer his temple to the Vulcan's hand.
Xon quickly takes his offer, placing his fingers on the human's face and gently entering his mind. This time Jim accidentally thinks of the Millennium Problem instead of the Prime Directive, but Xon seems to like the direction his thoughts are taking. This Vulcan's mind is more like sand than water, sticking and chafing in certain places. It is sort of uncomfortable, and the human does not like it at all. Jim project this thought to Xon, and the Vulcan absorbs it, sending a pulse of apology back to him. And then the sand becomes much finer, and there is no longer even any hint of discomfort for Jim. It is almost a ticklish sensation, in fact. So he shows Xon the problem he is working on, going through possible solutions and playing with the numbers. And then he shows him the problem he solved (perhaps a little too proudly) but the Vulcan's mind just seems impressed.
Jim loves these Vulcans, he really, really does. Why is Spock never impressed with anything he does? Xon seems to catch this thought, examining it and turning it every which way. Jim feels a bit embarrassed. Then the Vulcan slowly, slowly pulls out with a taste of emotion that can only be classified as smug, and Jim breaths harshly as his mind is once again his own.
"Fascinating," Xon murmurs. "Most fascinating."
And there is a dusting of green along his cheeks and at the tips of his pointed ears as he, too, turns to leave the room - without so much as an explanation. Maybe melds do make Vulcans need to go to the bathroom? How unusual. And why hasn't Stekev returned yet? How long do Vulcans take to go to the bathroom? Spock never goes to the “facilities” during shift, so Jim really does not know.
But before Jim can think further on this, Sardix steps forward.
"Are you prepared for penetration, Jim?" the Vulcan questions, and Jim nearly chokes on his tongue because it sounds like Sardix is asking . . . Well, of course he isn't! Just some good old cultural miscommunication, and Jim's horny mind turning everything into a sexual innuendo. It has been entirely too long since he’s been laid – he really needs to get on that. His own hands have been the only things to touch his cock in entirely too long.
"Yeah, I'm ready," he states after catching his breath (and trying without much success to tear his mind away from thoughts of sex).
And without warning, Sardix's hand is on his face and his mind is inside. Sardix's mind slides into his, and Jim does not have anything to compare it to. It is just there, surrounding the thoughts he puts forward. But Sardix seems to reject all those thoughts - he is looking for something in particular. And, oh . . . Jim realizes that the Vulcan is curious about "human mating rituals". He is a little embarrassed, but thinks of Julie and Sarah and Zach and John at the academy, and Sardix seems fascinated. He pulls on the memories, demanding more, and it is starting to get really personal, and not only is Jim showing these memories, but it is like he is experiencing them all over again, and really, he is corrupting an innocent Vulcan mind. Spock will strangle him.
Jim pushes Sardix out, perhaps a bit too forcefully. He is panting desperately, trying to get enough air, even as his cock presses uncomfortably against the restriction of his regulation briefs. Fuck.
"I apologize," the Vulcan states, after picking himself up off the floor. "I did not realize the intimacy associated with such memories."
"It's - it's okay," Jim says, although maybe it really isn't, because he's so hard he could hump the air right now, and his skin feels so hypersensitive, and he thinks he might be a little high. And oh, there Sardix goes. Maybe he needs to use the bathroom too? Vulcans are so weird – they are like girls, all going to the bathroom together.
"I will take my turn now, Jim," T'Pang informs him - and oh, hi there, other Vulcan mind. Jim goes to welcome her inside, but the meld is broken forcefully a second later, before she achieves any real penetration. Jim just blinks as he hears a low growl and sharp, chiding words.
"He does not understand our culture, and you have taken advantage of this lack of understanding!" and oh, that's Spock - his Spock, First Officer Spock, Science Officer Spock, Cute Spock. “This situation demonstrates your loss of emotional control. Why have none of you sought mind healers? Why have you instead targeted a helpless non-telepath to relieve your mental distress?”
Can Vulcan mind melds make a human high? Because Spock sounds angry, and Spock does not get angry. Well, not unless Jim is insubordinate and cocky and talks smack about Spock’s mom. And also, Jim kind of wants to hump Spock (and maybe he should replace "kind of" with "really, really, really, really…" – well, anyway). So maybe mind melds can make a human high? But Elder Spock didn’t make Jim high. Hmm. He should really ask Spock (his Spock). Spock always knows everything, because he is so, so smart.
"His mind is most dynamic," T'Pang replies, and why do the Vulcans keep repeating that? Is there some meaning in that phrase that he does not understand or something? Maybe he should ask Spock. It is really hot when his first officer goes into “professor mode”, as Jim likes to call it – his posture gets even more rigid than usual, and his voice.
Maybe he should meld with Spock. Melding with the older Spock was awesome, how much more awesome would melding with the young Spock be? It would be the awesomest!
"Leave!" and oh, did Spock just growl? He should do that more often, it makes Jim feel all tingly. Maybe he should tell Spock that. Spock deserves to know.
"Sp-Spock," he whispers softly, because if he's quiet maybe the others won't hear him. "Your growly voice makes me feel all tingly."
And then Jim giggles. Why is he giggling? He does not think there is anything funny to giggle at. Hmm.
"Please remain silent, Jim," Spock practically orders him. But Jim is the captain, not Spock, so Jim gives the orders.
"You're not the boss of me!" he informs his Vulcan - and no, he is not petulant. No matter what Bones says. Because Spock is not the boss, and Jim needs to remind him of that!
"Me boss, you Vulcan!" Jim says, just to reaffirm the lesson for his first officer. "Also, did you call me Jim? Why did you call me Jim? You never call me Jim. Even though I’ve asked you, like, a bazillion and one times. You’re always ‘Captain, this’ and ‘Captain, that’. "
Oh, and there's another growl. Spock is being particularly growly tonight...
"And furthermore!" is Jim shouting, he thinks he might be shouting? Also, he is pointing his finger - maybe not at Spock though. Is that the ceiling? Hmm. Oh wait, what was he going to say? "Furthermore! You interrupted T'Pang's turn. That isn't very nice! Stekev and Xon and Sardix all got much longer - they would tell you, but they had to use the fic-fec-the bathroom. Do melds make Vulcans need to go to the bathroom? That is kind of weird. Also! Also, Kov still hasn't explored human culture yet. You just have to wait your turn, Spock!"
"There will be no more turns," his first officer states firmly, shooting death lasers of doooooooom at the other two Vulcans in the room. Dooooooom.
"Jim, is there are reason you are whispering 'doom' to yourself?" Kov questions him, ignoring the glare of doooooom from Jim’s first officer.
"I just like the way it sounds," the human informs him. "Dooooooooom. Also, do you want to meld with me? It feels really good. Especially the way Sardix did it. He wanted to learn about human mating rituals, and made me think about all the sex I used to have at the academy, before I became captain and had to become all responsible and boring and shit. So I thought about sex, but in the meld, it was like I was actually having*= sex again. Which, let me tell you, it has been waaaaay too long. I really miss sex. Do Vulcans like sex?"
And then Kov - and his hand, which had been reaching for Jim's temple - is gone. And Spock is there instead.
"Jim, cease speaking immediately," his Vulcan first orders him, and now Spock is glaring at him. Well, Jim will not take that! He is the captain here.
He opens his mouth to tell Spock this, but all of a sudden there is a very warm hand stopping him from speaking. Oh, and Spock is once again 'not yelling' at the other Vulcans. Poor T'Pang and Kov. Good thing Stekev and Xon and Sardix all went to the bathroom. How long does it take a Vulcan to go to the bathroom? Shouldn't they be back by now? They all said that they were going to come back? Maybe they got distracted.
Nah, that's silly - Vulcan's do not get distracted, as Spock would say.
"If you do not leave within the next 2.5 seconds, I will report each one of you to the Council of Elders for misuse of the mind meld with a psi-null being," Spock threatens T'Pang and Kov - and oh, he sounds really, really dangerous. Like a wolf about to pounce on an unsuspecting bunny rabbit.
Jim squirms in response, but Spock's voice makes him want to be naughty, that way his first officer will keep talking like that. He is totally up for being Spock’s bunny rabbit – especially if “pounce on” actually means “fuck the brains out of”. And Spock’s growly voice also makes Jim want to lick him - so he does, right along the palm that is covering his mouth and making it impossible to speak clearly. Hmm. Spock's skin tastes more tangy than salty. Jim wonders if Spock's cock will taste different than a human too. Hmm. Spock's cock. Cock of Spock. Spooooock. Cooooooock.
Spock does not pull his hand away, but he does turn dark eyes to look at Jim.
"Leave," he growls - and oh, that is directed at the other Vulcans, not Jim. Jim isn't going anywhere – not even if he wants to. Spock's other hand is now on the back of his neck, holding him still. Jim doesn't think he likes Spock's hand so close to his neck - he might do that sneaky Vulcan neck pinch thingy.
The human blinks, and suddenly realizes that the other Vulcans are gone. Where did they go? Also, Spock is getting really close right now. Why is he so close?
"I refuse to take advantage of you when you are intoxicated, Jim," Spock says, but Jim thinks maybe he is talking to himself, because his eyes are closed and the hand that was on his neck is now at Spock's side and curled into a tight fist.
Jim doesn't like that Spock isn't paying attention to him anymore - so he licks him again. (And well, maybe he nibbles a little bit. But just a little!) Spock stiffens, and lets out something that would sound suspiciously like a moan. Except, well, this is his proper, prim first officer, and Spock does not do anything as undignified and emotional as moaning. While Jim is contemplating such thoughts, Spock pulls his hand away, reaching for his communicator and flipping it over.
"Spock to Enterprise," he states calmly, dark eyes locked on Jim the entire time. "Two to beam up."
Before Jim can protest - he doesn't want to go anywhere, the Vulcans might come back from the bathroom at any time and want to meld again! - Spock's hand is reaching for him.
Ooooh, maybe Spock wants to meld? That is Jim's last thought before everything goes black - he doesn't even have time to curse those damn Vulcan neck pinches.
The next morning
Jim groans; his heading is pounding and his neck is stiff as a board. He groans again just for good measure as he tentatively opens his eyes to the bright white of sickbay – and then he squeezes them tightly shut against the brightness. Goddamn, how did he manage to get in trouble on New Vulcan of all places? And then the previous night starts coming back to him, and he groans yet again. He really should have stopped after the third meld - okay, maybe the second. All right, Jim swears to himself - next time he will stop after the first, if only his head will stop pounding.
This hangover is worse than the time he had twelve shots of that greenish-blue stuff on Risa and then started dancing (well, stripping) on the bar. Spock was really not happy after that incident - Jim thinks that maybe a few of those Risans that tried to get him alone are still in the hospital, somewhere. But this hangover is worse - his head is pounding, and his joints are stiff, and his stomach is roiling. And somehow, he still feels a bit buzzed, like a bee is humming away under his hypersensitive skin – like his body is craving hair of the dog and promising that the pain will go away if he just melds with a nice, logical Vulcan mind…
So yep, worse than the hangover from Risa - and the time that he woke up naked with Scotty in Jeffries Tube #4b after shore leave on the planet with all the purring cats. Thankfully, Spock still hasn’t found out about that one.
"Jimmy," Bones drawls, interrupting his musings of past hangovers. It is a strategy that sometimes works to distract him from the pain of present hangovers. This time? Really not working. Damn Vulcans. And really, who knew Vulcans could give hangovers with only their minds?
"Bones," he moans, still refusing to open his eyes to the ridiculous white of sickbay. "I'm dying! Show some sympathy!"
"You're not dying, so quit your whining and open your eyes. You're meeting a group of elders at the Science Academy in two hours, remember?" the doctor reminds him, tone unsympathetic. And yes, Jim remembers. And shit – how is he going to talk to the Vulcan elders when he feels like this?
"How did I wind up in sickbay?" Jim questions, managing to sit up and letting out a quiet whimper at the way his stomach jumps up into his throat.
"Spock brought you in last night. The pointy-eared elf looked mighty pissed - I haven't seen him that angry since you - well, probably since the last time you got yourself hurt doing a damn fool thing. Which was . . . oh, last week?" Bones mocks, and Jim knows he is smirking - he can hear it in his best friend's voice.
Where is the sympathy?
"I don't know why I feel like this. It was just a few melds - It didn't feel like this after Solok melded with me," Jim pouts, daring to open one eye. Instant axe pick to the brain. He slams it shut tight again - yep, still too bright.
"Melds? A few? With other Vulcans? No wonder Spock is so upset," and now Jim can hear a smirk and an eyebrow raise in Bones's voice. Stupid doctor.
"Why would Spock be upset about me melding with Vulcans? You would think he would be happy, you know. I was sharing my experience in order to facilitate understanding between our two species!" the blond protests.
"Jimmy, how can you be such a genius and yet a clueless dumbass at the same time?" his friend asks.
"Hey, don't be mean to me, I'm dying!" Jim orders. "Also, it is a talent. What I am being clueless about, again?"
Bones just sighs and hypos him in the neck, and Jim is going to tackle him, just as soon as his headache - oh, Bones is an angel! And he doesn’t really feel intoxicated at all anymore either (well, maybe a little bit, but nothing he can’t handle. He’s negotiated in worse conditions – with species far more hostile than Vulcans).
"Thanks, buddy!" he crows, slapping the doctor on the back as he opens his eyes and jumps off the bed. "I'm going to get changed to be all diplomatic, now."
"Diplomatic, my ass," Bones grumps. "Also, that hypo only last 6 hours, so don't let the meeting go too far over, and get some non-Vulcan induced sleep! Otherwise that headache is going to come back, worse than before."
"Grump, grump," Jim mutters to himself. "Whatever you say, Bones!"
Next time, he is really going to listen to his best friend's advice. Well, it is always more like an order, but really, Jim is the boss. He gives orders - he doesn't follow them. Somehow, Bones always knows what he is talking about. Goddamn doctor.
6 hours and 15 minutes later
Jim really needs to work on his math and/or time management skills - that, or he just needs to keep Spock by his side at all times as his own personal calculator and timekeeper. (And maybe bodyguard. And space heater. And masseuse – because Spock is really good with his hands, and Jim carries a lot of stress in his shoulders.)
Because Bones told him the hypo would work for 6 hours (and goddamn the doctor, but when he said 6 hours he meant exactly 6 hours) and then Jim would have to sleep off the post-meld hangover. But the meeting with the Vulcan Elders did not even start until two hours after Bones gave him the hypo, and then the meeting ran over (those old Vulcans must really like the sound of their own voices) and now Jim - and more specifically, Jim's head - is in acute pain.
This morning it felt like a really bad hangover headache – but now it is a migraine, and all Jim wants to do is sit in the dark and quiet and curl up into a tiny ball and be very, very still. And not throw up his last meal…well, it would be bile, really, because Jim has not eaten since that salad with Solok yesterday afternoon. So throwing up would be really, really painful at this point – and his stomach roils at just the thought.
He leaves the meeting room, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples as he heads towards the previously agreed upon beam-up point (Scotty better be damn gentle with the controls this afternoon, Jim really cannot handle a transporter malfunction right now) - only to bump into something tall and solid and immobile. Jim nearly falls on his ass, but large (extremely large) hands reach down to catch him around his waist, pulling him against a firm chest. And fuck it - he is Captain James Tiberius Kirk, not a damsel in distress. Why is he always so clumsy around Vulcans?
"Jim, are you injured?" the immoveable wall of muscle asks him after a few seconds of silence.
"Oh, hey Xon," Jim greets the Vulcan listlessly, opening his eyes with a wince to look up at the tall male, even as he swallows back the urge to vomit all over his shoes. "You caught me. I'm fine."
"Fine has variable meanings, Jim," a voice speaks up from behind Xon.
"Sardix," the human acknowledges - and then he looks past Xon, and sees that Stekev and Kov and T'Pang are also here, as well as two Vulcans with whom he is not familiar.
"You are experiencing discomfort," Xon states, staring down at him with dark eyes. It is at this point that Jim realizes he is still pressed tightly to the large Vulcan's chest, with warm hands steadying him at his waist, a few fingers brushing the bare skin of his back where his uniform tunic must have ridden up.
"Sorry," Jim mumbles, apologizing and pulling away from the Vulcan's touch - he does not want Xon to experience his migraine or nausea, even indirectly. He's just going to go back to the Enterprise now, and sleep until dinner or so - then he has that diplomatic meeting he is required to attend. Which he knows is going to be boring as hell – rubbing elbows with the stuffy old Vulcan elders and a bunch of straight-edge ambassadors always is. But maybe some of his new, young Vulcan friends will be there too? Hmm, maybe he will ask them later – after his head stops pounding and his stomach settles back into its normal position.
"I could relieve your discomfort," Stekev offers, and Jim remembers how his thoughts felt like water, cool and soothing. He really would like it if the Vulcan could take away some of his pain, but…
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Transference is a side effect of the mind meld, and I don't want you to feel my pain," the human explains politely.
"I insist, Jim. I will be careful to soothe your pain without taking it upon myself," the Vulcan reassures him, stepping forward with his hand raised in the meld position. “Take it as a gesture of friendship.”
How can Jim possibly refuse a gesture of friendship from a Vulcan? They make them so rarely. And what could one little meld hurt? So Jim tilts his head to meet Stekev's fingers - the ritual words, a beat, and then . . . Relief. The human feels his headache and nausea and achiness slip away as Stekev's cool thoughts meet his own, wrapping around them and washing over them gently. Jim projects his gratitude in response, and the Vulcan seems to absorb it like a sponge. Another moment or two of cool, slick thoughts, and Jim’s mind feels sort of floaty again, and then Stekev gently withdraws. Jim cannot help his gasp, or how his knees buckle in response - but thankfully, Xon steps forward to catch him again before he can tumble to the floor.
"Your state has greatly improved, Jim," Xon states with something like approval coloring his voice, rubbing the bare skin of his back where his uniform tunic has ridden up.
"Yeah," Jim replies, and then he nuzzles into Xon's chest - the scratchy Vulcan wool feels so different against his sensitive skin. He thinks he likes it. And maybe wants to rub against it more – naked.
"Jim, as I was unable to meld with you last night due to Commander Spock's interference, would it be acceptable to mentally engage at this time?" Kov asks him, turning the human's attention from his Vulcan teddy bear.
"S-sure," Jim responds, wanting to be fair despite his current level of exhaustion. Vulcan mind melds are tiring. "But - maybe not out in the hallway? Somewhere I can sit down."
The Vulcans look at each other for a moment, and then Xon helpfully leads him down the hallway, a hand on the small of his back, as the others trail just a step behind them.
"Where are we going?" the human asks sleepily. "'m pretty sure that I'm s'posed to beam up to the Enterprise soon."And he cannot hold in his yawn, feeling a bit embarrassed at the involuntary action in front of such controlled beings.
"You are the Captain. I am sure it will be tolerated if you do not arrive at the precise time. Your ship will not depart without you," T'Pang reassures him, and that’s true. Besides, the Enterprise isn’t due to leave until tomorrow night – so it won’t be a big deal if Jim spends his afternoon planet side. He’ll comm Scotty late, as soon as they get wherever they’re going. And maybe after a little nap – Jim feels like he is floating on a cloud, and the pain is gone, but the exhaustion has caught up to him.
So Jim nods, leaning more heavily against Xon as they slip into a room that must be used to entertain human visitors. The temperature is set at a more comfortable level, and the couches are plush and a vibrant red - illogical for a species that prides practicality and logic above luxury. Xon helps Jim recline on one of the long couches, and the human cannot help another yawn as he stretches out his tired muscles, before scrunching into a comfortable ball to nap.
"Is it 'kay if I sleep now?" Jim murmurs quietly, closing his eyes. "Meld while I sleep?"
"Surely, Jim. If you would not consider it an intrusion, it would be a great cultural experience to meld with your resting mind," Kov assures him, gently stroking his brow with a warm hand. It makes Jim feel even sleepier.
"S-sure," another jaw-splitting yawn. "Anything for Vulcans." With that, Jim's blue eyes slide shut, and he quickly falls asleep.
Ice slipping against his thoughts, and then slipping away. Water, once again, cool and soothing. Wind blowing through his memories, touching everything lightly and leaving a chill behind. Bubbles, bursting against the walls of his mind, tickling him. Sand, thin and fine and sifting, sifting. Fire, but it doesn’t quite burn, just creates an almost unpleasant heat, searing his thoughts. Water, yet again, soothing the heat. And then sand, once more.
Jim's dreams are erratic and filled with visitors - some he knows by name, and others he does not. He recognizes some of the tastes of the visiting minds. Stekev and Xon join with him again, and again, and again. Touching his thoughts, sharing his memories: hard Vulcan clay and the Kobayashi Maru and a bright sun and skydiving and the Enterprise and Bones and . . .
Sex, lots and lots of sex. Some he has actually experienced, and some he has only fantasized about. It feels like he is experiencing his memories all over again, all at the same time. Kissing and touching and rubbing and being rubbed. Penetrating and being penetrated. Everything gets all mixed up - and then Jim opens his eyes with a gasp, breaking a meld with a beautiful Vulcan female who is now staring down at him.
"H'llo?" he whispers, though it is more a moan - his body is shivering with lust, and his skin is so, so sensitive, and oh, his cock . . . He is rock hard and desperate and it feels like every ounce of blood in his body has rushed down to his groin, and he just wants to come. But not in front of the Vulcans - they probably already think he is some strange sexual deviant, gaining an erection from simple melds, even while he is asleep. But he cannot help it, he needs.
So, so badly.
"Your mind is quite dynamic, Jim," the Vulcan female assures him, gently carding her fingers through his hair. And oh, that feels really nice. It sends tingles down his spine and makes him want to rub every inch of his skin against her, and the nice comfortable couch, and maybe every other Vulcan in the room, too. God, he is such a pervert, but at this moment he just does not care. He can’t care, not with the way his cock is pulsing uncomfortably against his tight uniform pants. And then Jim also gets the strange urge to lick something - maybe it is because he is so hungry? He didn’t have breakfast this morning (or dinner last night). Stupid Bones, forgetting to remind Jim to eat.
"Jim is hungry," the Vulcan female announces to the room, and suddenly there is a flurry of movement as many other Vulcans step forward, offering him peeled grapes and some exotic Vulcan fruit that he has forgotten the name of but knows he likes and pomegranate seeds and apples.
Jim loves apples.
He accepts the food gratefully, a bit confused as to why the Vulcans are feeding him by hand - reaching forward to place the fruit in his mouth, brushing his lips, and then skimming their fingers up to caress his temples as if that is their reward. The grapes are not only peeled but seedless, just the way he likes them. The pomegranate seeds stain Vulcan fingers, and probably Jim’s lips, and he idly contemplates sucking the fingers in to clean them off better, that way more of the juices will be on his tongue. But the apples - the skin is still on, but the apples are sliced to the perfect size, and then pressed right up against his tongue. He loves Vulcans, so much.
But Jim is also a bit confused as to why there are so many of them. Jim sees Stekev and Xon and Sardix and Kov and T'Pang, but there is also the two other Vulcans that were with them before, and this pretty female Vulcan still carding her hand through his hair, and all these new Vulcans that are feeding him and also some that are just staring.
"Your mind is even more dynamic when you dream, Jim," Stekev informs him, pressing another apple piece to the human's lips and then gently massaging Jim's temple.
The blond (the only one in the room - all the others have dark, dark hair and dark, dark eyes, and why is Jim contemplating the lack of genetic variation in Vulcan hair and eye color at this time? his thoughts are strangely hazy) wriggles a bit at the pleasure he gets from just that touch, and somehow his cock gets even harder.
"Would you like to remove your clothes, Jim?" T'Pang asks him. "You seem most uncomfortable." That really is not a good idea, even if Jim would really like to take off his uncomfortable uniform and rub his skin all over this really, really comfortable couch and all the warm, silky Vulcan skin.
"We only wish for your comfort, Jim," T'Pang reassures him (and is that a smile? No – Jim must be going crazy). "We would not be offended if you shared your physical form as you have shared your mind." The other Vulcans hasten to assure him that they would not be offended - not at all.
Oh, somehow, that sounds like Jim has just been invited to participate in a Vulcan orgy, of which he would be the main attraction. Like he is supposed to take off all his clothes, and recline on this supple red couch, and just exist for their pleasure. For the touch of their skin and their minds and . . . Jim really has quite the perverted mind. Maybe he should confine himself to quarters or take away shore leave or ask Spock to spank him until he feels properly disciplined.
Jim nods decisively at that idea - he will take off his clothes, and he will be naughty, and then Spock can punish him for it later. His first officer will probably spank him nice and hard, and then forgive him, and all will be well. It is a good plan. The Vulcans move forward in a flurry, taking his nod as permission - helping him strip off his gold uniform tunic and black undershirt and . . . Of course, at this moment the door bursts open - and Spock bursts in.
Fuck his life.
His first officer enters the room - and then goes utterly, completely still. Dark eyes take in the scene - Jim shirtless, lounging on the couch, a large group of Vulcans surrounding him, feeding him, touching him.
"Cease all physical contact with the captain immediately," Spock orders, and his voice is a low growl. Mmm, Spock's voice. Jim wishes it had a physical presence, Spock’s voice – that way he could rub himself all over it, and maybe lick it. Especially lick it. Well, maybe he could just lick Spock’s lips – that would almost be like licking his voice, right? Or maybe he could lick Spock’s throat while his first officer talked, and then Jim could feel the rumble of Spock’s words through his tongue.
Jim is startled from his thoughts of licking Spock when most of the Vulcans comply with Spock’s order, stepping back from him and reluctantly removing their hands from Jim's bare skin. But Stekev - Stekev simply runs his fingers through blond hair, staring back at Spock as if in challenge. Jim cannot help but arch into the touch, loving the sensation of gentle fingers massaging his scalp.
"It is logical to participate in a cross-cultural exchange," T'Pang speaks up. "And Jim has given his consent."
"The captain does not know to what he is giving consent," Spock replies, not taking his eyes off Stekev as he strides forward towards the only human in the room. "Remove your hands from him immediately."
"You do not speak for Jim," Stekev states, his fingers still playing with Jim’s hair. "And I will continue to touch him until he informs me of his wish that I cease."
Spock's eyes fall upon Jim once again, and the heat in that gaze makes him squirm, as he remembers his earlier thoughts of Spock spanking him - punishing him for being such a naughty little human, corrupting all the innocent Vulcans. Stekev lets out a low, breathy moan, and every full-blooded Vulcan in the room steps forward at the sound, reaching for Jim. Blue eyes widen, even as Stekev's hand falls to his temple, and Jim knows what is coming next - cool, cool water, thoughts rushing past his, around his . . .
But it never comes. Spock also knows what Stekev intends to do (of course he does, Spock is a genius), and he quickly brings his fingers to the other Vulcan’s shoulder - and then Stekev collapses to the floor, unconscious. Wow, that Vulcan neck pinch is awesome (when it is not being used against Jim, of course). Maybe Spock will teach him if he asks really, really nicely? His first officer always caves at his puppy-dog eyes and pout.
"Step. Back." Spock orders, somehow managing to glare the Vulcans down without actually glaring. Jim really needs to learn that skill too – it is awesomely intimidating. (Spock is awesomely intimidating. And also just plain awesome. And just plain intimidating. Thus, awesomely intimidating. And intimidatingly awesome. Hmm.)
The others quickly obey, all the while looking at Jim with something like longing in their dark eyes. He wants to reassure them - as soon as Spock leaves, they can meld again, of course. Not everyone has had their turn yet, after all, and Jim is quite curious about what other tastes and feels the rest of their minds will have. He’s felt water, and sand, and ice, and wind, and bubbles, and fire, and . . . Well, there were others, Jim knows, but he kind of forgets at the moment. Maybe he will ask for each of them to meld with him shortly while he is conscious, and maybe one of them will take notes for him on how their minds feel, and it can be all scientific and shit? Vulcans like scientific, right? And then maybe Spock won’t protest, because the melds are for science.
Jim is pulled out of his thoughts when Spock reaches for the gold command tunic and black undershirt folded over the arm of the couch. His first officer turns toward him, placing the garments on Jim's bare stomach.
"I request that you fully clothe yourself, Captain," Spock addresses respectfully, but the fire in his eyes is not quite fully banked.
Well, that, or Jim is somehow really, really drunk without ever taking a sip of alcohol, because Spock just became two Spocks right in front of his eyes, and then went back to one Spock, or was that three Spocks? Who knew Spock was a superhero and could duplicate himself? His first officer definitely deserved to have his own comic strip – he is just that awesome. (Can Sulu draw? Jim thinks Sulu can draw.)
Well, that is something to consider later.
"I'm the boss," Jim informs his mysteriously multiplying friend. "Me, boss. You, not boss. I don't want clothes. I don't like clothes. Clothes are bad. I think I'm going to take my pants off now, 'kay?"
"Most agreeable," someone whispers - and Jim is pretty sure it was Xon. Good Xon. Jim always liked him.
"That would be unacceptable," Spock tells him, ignoring the other Vulcans as he catches Jim's hands, preventing them from going to his zipper to take off his uncomfortably tight pants.
The others gasp at his action, and Jim looks around wildly - what? What is so shocking? Is he doing something taboo in Vulcan society? Maybe one of them should meld with him and share that information? Melding is a good way to share.
"I am going to release you in approximately 2.5 seconds. You will fully clothe yourself, Jim," and Spock’s being bossy again, but oh, that makes Jim's cock veeeeery happy. So happy that it stands up even higher to say hello.
But Jim's mind is not happy. He's the boss! Spock has to stop being so bossy!
"You're a meanie, Spock," Jim pouts, pulling his hands out of Spock’s grasp (before the 2.5 seconds are up – so hah!) to fold his arms over his chest. He settles in for a good sulk - he does not have to do what Spock tells him! "A big, fat meanie. Big. And fat. And mean. Meanie! Also, Spock . . . wait, Spock. Clock. Flock. Smock. Jock. Oh! Hey, Spock? Did you know your name rhymes with cock? That's actually kind of cool. Spock's cock. Cock of Spock. Spooooooock. Cooooooock. But you're still mean!"
The other Vulcans look antsy, like drug users aching for a fix, and oh - that is a weird comparison, isn't it? Jim wonders what they want. Maybe they should meld so he can find out, and give it to them. Anything for the Vulcans, after all. They are all so nice - ah, and logical, of course. Nice and logical.
"Leave!" Spock barks to the others. "Now. Meditate and center yourselves. And then report to the Elders for this affront on our laws. Sexual assault upon a member of a psi-null species through mind melds is a crime worthy of exile, according to our traditions. Only the fact that our population is too low to cast off any members, no matter how little control they exercise over their mental abilities, will save you from such a punishment."
The others seem to slink off (sort of like a slinky. Jim wonders if Spock could make him a slinky. Or maybe he should ask Scotty? Slinkies are cool. But the Enterprise doesn’t have any stairs. Maybe Spock could make him stairs, too, that way they could slinky?). Xon picks up Stekev from beside Jim's couch on the way out. He is one of the last Vulcans to leave - along with Sardix and T'Pang, who are looking back at Jim, lingering in the doorway, as if afraid that they will never see him again.
"I'll be at the ambassadors' dinner later," Jim reassures them. “And maybe then we can meld again?”
Their eyes widen at Spock over his shoulder (Jim wonders what silly face his Vulcan first officer could be making?) and then they stumble over themselves to leave, the door closing behind them (and they never even respond to Jim’s offer of more melds!).
"Captain . . ." Spock trails off angrily. Jim does not like it when Spock is actually angry at him. He might like to annoy and irritate his first officer, but it upsets him when Spock is really mad at him. Time for damage control.
The blond widens his blue eyes innocently, and pouts out his lower lip a bit, letting it wibble as he curls himself into a defensive ball on the couch, making himself look as small as possible. "You're not mad at me, Spock. Are you?" and artful tears in the corners of his eyes - just enough to make the blue look glossy, but not enough to spill over (that would be going overboard).
Spock deflates like a balloon, but without the cool noise. Or maybe he melts like a gooey marshmallow at the fire of Jim’s awesomeness. Or maybe he folds like a deck of cards to the . . . hand of . . .
"No, Jim, I am not angry," Spock informs him (and thank goodness he interrupted that metaphor, because Jim has no idea where it was going). "Vulcans do not feel anger." Oh, bullshit. That's what Spock says when he's angry.
"You can spank me if you want," the blond offers, trying to make himself seem as earnest as possible. As if Spock spanking him would truly be a punishment.
"No, that will not be necessary, Jim," his Vulcan first officer assures him. "Please just fully clothe yourself."
Jim looks down at the shirts on his lap. He doesn't want to wear them. He doesn't want to wear clothes at all. The couch feels so good against the bare skin of his back, and he kind of wants to rub his legs and ass against the material too. But his pants would have to come off for that. Jim's hands go underneath the shirts on his lap, and he quickly undoes his button and unzips his pants before Spock can react. When his friend reaches for him, probably to stop him once again, Jim just laughs and jumps over the back of the couch, wiggling out of his pants and leaving him in nothing but his regulation black briefs.
Where are his boots? He does not remember taking off his boots? Maybe Xon was nice enough to take them off for him before? But where are they? While Jim is all tangled up in his thoughts, Spock catches him around the waist, picking the human up (and his pants too, of course) and walking around to the right side of the couch before sitting down - Jim in his lap.
Jim struggles, wiggling and trying to escape the warm steel band holding fast around his stomach, pinning his arms to his sides. Spock is just so strong - and his erection, which really did not go down all that much, comes back with a vengeance at the manhandling. And Spock's blue science tunic feels so good against the skin of his back - even better than the couch. Jim stops struggling, and starts rubbing himself against Spock as best as he can, throwing his head back against the Vulcan's strong shoulder and moaning.
"Jim," Spock chokes, holding him tighter in an attempt to stop his squirming (and failing in the attempt, because Jim is really good at squirming and writhing and all sorts of sex motions. Well, Jim is just good at sex in general). "Cease your actions!"
"No, I don' wanna!" he whines, wriggling and trying to get closer to the heat behind him. Spock is like a furnace - so, so warm, and Jim is just burning up, and maybe that should make him want to get away, but he just wants to be closer and closer and closer, until he is inside Spock. Or even better, until Spock is inside him.
And Jim does not even mean that sexually (although, now that he thinks about it . . .) - Jim wants Spock in his mind. He wants Spock's warmth and his strength and his intelligence - all inside him, wrapping around his thoughts and merging with his memories and . . . Because if all of those random Vulcans that Jim does not really even know feel so good inside his mind, how much more awesome would it be to meld with Spock? This Spock, young Spock, his Spock?
"Inside!" Jim orders, unable to control himself at the thought. "Please! Please, Spock. I want you in me. Come inside my mind." Oh, and that sounds kind of dirty, doesn't it? It didn't sound that dirty inside Jim's head? Whatever. Spock understands what he means.
Spock always understands him.
"Jim," Spock gasps, and he shifts so the blond is securely pinned using just his one arm. His other hand trails up Jim's chest, stopping to rub and pinch his nipples. Jim whines, his cock stretching the front of his briefs, a wet spot forming at the tip as he writhes, pressing his chest forward towards Spock's teasing fingers, wanting more, more, more.
He hadn't thought this would be sexual - hadn't thought Spock would want him like that. But oh, Jim wants - so, so much. Because this is Spock - awesome, brilliant, loyal Spock, who watches his back and bitches him out when he is wrong and stands at his side through everything. But as sensitive as Jim's nipples are, and as much as he knows that he could probably come just from this, if Spock teases long enough - Jim wants Spock's mind more. He wants his first officer's heart even more - the most, really.
But he can settle for his mind - at least for the moment. Well, as long as Spock's cock comes in the deal too, because Jim can feel the hot hardness pressed tight to his lower back through the thin layer of Spock’s uniform pants, and he needs that inside him too. Spock's cock, and his mind, and . . .
"Jim, " Spock gasps again, and then his fingers are trailing up, and up. They move into the now-familiar position on Jim's temple, and then . . .
And somehow this meld is better than all of the others combined. There is the pleasure of the others, but sharper, more intense - more grounding, as if he is taking control of his body, rather than being driven out of his mind. But not just pleasure, and lust - there is also affection, and protectiveness, and possessiveness and a sense of belonging and love.
So much love.
Jim is drowning in it, but floating too, and he wants Spock to know - to experience the same bliss that he is. So he pushes his emotions and his memories and his thoughts at Spock - everything that he feels for his Vulcan first officer, the good and the bad and the crazy. And in return - oh, he feels as if the essence of Spock is wrapped around him and inside him all at the same time, and Jim wants more. More and more and more and more.
But then something subtly shifts, and though there is still love and lust and adoration and all of these positive emotions being directed straight from Spock to Jim, there is also guilt, and shame, and regret. And then Spock's thoughts are pulling away, reluctance tingeing his mind, and Jim struggles to pull Spock back, to keep Spock with him - inside him. But the Vulcan's control is much stronger than his own, and Spock gently disentangles their minds.
Jim snaps back to reality with a gasp, feeling more himself than he has since his first meld with Stekev yesterday. He is still on Spock's lap, wrapped in his arms, but the grip is much looser - he could easily get away if he wants to. He does not want to. Instead, Jim turns around within Spock's embrace, straddling his Vulcan's hips and looping his arms around his (hopefully) soon-to-be lover's neck. But before he can lean forward for a kiss, Spock closes his eyes and turns his head away - letting his hands fall from Jim's hips to rest lightly on the couch.
"I apologize for my lack of control, Captain," Spock whispers, something Jim would never be mean enough to call shame coloring his voice. "I should not have taken advantage of your intoxicated state. I am no better than the Vulcans who brought you here."
Jim pulls back a bit, letting his fingertips caress Spock's nape gently, and surveys his Vulcan with a critical eye. "I don't feel high, anymore. My mind is really clear for the first time since yesterday. Why did melding with those other Vulcans get me so drugged out of my mind?" he questions.
"Your mind is most dynamic," Spock admits with a sigh, leaning into Jim's caress. "The others - they are young, and the loss of Vulcan has destroyed many of their bonds - they have little control. Your mind is like a drug to them, and the intoxication they experience through the meld is transferred to you. I believe that, with prolonged contact, they could easily become addicted to your thoughts."
Jim frowns, nodding to himself as the pieces slot into place. Stekev must have felt enough of his mind to know that he wanted to meld when they bumped together in the hallway that first time, and he told the others, and from the first meld Jim engaged in, it was just a slippery slope down - like drug abuse, except Jim's mind was the drug and transference meant he also got high off himself.
"I understand," Jim replies. "But why - I felt pleasure through our meld, but I don't feel high anymore or anything. Am I . . . is my mind not like a drug for you?"
Jim feels a bit embarrassed, because he shouldn't want his mind to get Spock high, but it feels a little unfair that he's "dynamic" enough to snag any Vulcan but the one he wants the most - the only one he wants, really. But Spock's cheeks flush a faint green, and the Vulcan finally meets his eyes for the first time since the meld - and oh, Spock's gaze is burning.
"Your mind is more potent than the richest chocolate," Spock whispers, his low voice sending shivers of lust down Jim's spine and bringing a blush to his cheeks. "But I can control myself, because I will not have you when you cannot consent. If we - when we - engage in sexual intercourse, we will both be fully cognizant of the situation. I do not wish for you to regret giving yourself to me."
And Jim wants to protest - wants to tell Spock that he is not passive, and there will be no giving of himself (what if he wants to top, goddamnit?). But there is just something so sweet and romantic about Spock's words. Sweet and romantic and so, so hot - and Jim just melts like the aforementioned chocolate, tightening his arms around Spock's neck and burying his face in that strong shoulder, cuddling closer and sighing in contentment when those warm arms wrap around his waist in response. He can defend his masculinity later, when he’s not so comfortable.
"No regrets," Jim whispers against the warm skin of Spock's neck, pressing a chaste kiss there. "Because you are the best Vulcan, ever. Why would I want anyone else when I can have you? I can have you, Spock, can't I? Forever?" And Jim sort of wants to punch himself in the face for the vulnerability in his words, but Spock's arms just hug him closer, and that makes the weakness okay. Maybe more than okay.
"I will incapacitate any who attempt to remove me from your side," Spock whispers back, reaching up to card a hand through Jim's hair. "Especially tonight, as you will be surrounded by Vulcans easily intoxicated by the touch of your mind. You will not share it with another."
Jim could throw a fit at Spock ordering him not to meld with any other Vulcans, but if in return he gets Spock, he will consider the trade more than favorable to his side. Besides, none of the old stuffy ambassador Vulcans is going to try anything, anyway - all of the Vulcans in his little harem this afternoon were young, with little control.
He is sure the ambassadors' dinner will be just as boring as every other diplomatic duty.
A few hours later
Jim really, really needs to stop jinxing himself. Because even though the older Vulcans seem to be pretty in control, they have all these young aides that just keep looking at Jim, caressing him with their eyes from his head all the way down to his feet (though an inordinate amount of time is spent gazing at his temples). It has only be twenty-five minutes of mingling, and Jim already feels violated.
Also, Spock was not kidding before when he said he would stay by Jim's side, because he has been glued to the human's hip the entire time. When Jim walks, it is with Spock's warm hand at the small of his back. When Jim stands around to talk, one of Spock's arms slip around his waist and the other holds his hand. When an older Vulcan greets Jim, Spock stands stiffly beside him, also exchanging greetings.
When a younger Vulcan greets Jim, Spock makes sure they only greet with the ta'al, and growls at any who try to engage the captain in a handshake. Spock is just lucky that Jim is head-over-heels in love with him (and has been for some time) - otherwise he probably would have tapped a lot of the offered Vulcan minds. After all, melds are very, very pleasurable - for both parties. And now that Jim is fully aware of the effects, he is able to give his full consent - for whatever he or his meld partners want.
But why would Jim want to meld with any of the other Vulcans when he has Spock? He trusts Spock, more than anything. And besides, with his first officer, there is going to be sex. The other Vulcans just want him naked so there is more skin for them to touch through which to feel his mind. And maybe to give him an orgasm too - Jim imagines that would come through as very "dynamic" through the meld.
"Captain, please cease your inappropriate thoughts," Spock says lowly through gritted teeth. "Your lust is bleeding through your skin."
Jim flushes, looking down to where they are holding hands. Poor Spock - he probably is not used to being horny at diplomatic dinners. (Not like Jim, who seems to have a bit of an alien kink. And a Spock-in-dress-uniform kink.) Before he can apologize and try to get his thoughts in order, Sardix steps up to greet them, reaching forward for a handshake. Jim raises his hand in the ta'al in response - he could not return the handshake even if he wants to, because Spock still has a tight grip on his right hand.
"Jim, I apologize for my previous actions. I have thoroughly meditated, and through this I realized it was inappropriate not to inform you of the full consequences of melding," Sardix tells him, returning the ta’al, and wow - Jim thought Vulcans did not apologize. Spock always says that it is illogical.
"It's okay, Sardix," the human responds. "No harm, no foul, right? Spock came in before things got really out of hand, and he removed the transference." Speaking of Spock, his first officer is standing so rigidly that Jim is afraid his spine is going to snap, and he is staring intensely at Sardix with dark eyes.
"I thank thee for your graciousness, Jim," Sardix replies, with a slight bow of his head.
"It is inappropriate to address the captain so casually during an official diplomatic function," Spock reprimands, and oh yeah - he is so going super-Vulcan on Sardix's ass. Well, except for the fact that his arm is still wrapped around Jim's waist and Spock's thumb is now caressing the back of his hand. That kind of ruins the super-Vulcan image Spock has got going for him.
Sardix turns to face Spock. "Jim has given me leave to address him as such. As I am not a member of Starfleet, it is in fact appropriate to follow his directions," and uh oh - Jim really does not want to get in the middle of two pissy Vulcans fighting over the logic of addressing him casually. Not unless the fight is physical, and naked, and maybe involves Jim naked and fighting, too.
“Jim,” Spock warns slowly, gritting his teeth – and oops, his lust must be reaching Spock again. “You are . . .”
"Well!" the human interrupts. "I see Ambassador Solok over there, and it really would be rude of me not to greet him. How about you guys continue this discussion another time? Or, well, I can go talk to the ambassador, Spock, and you can stay here." Spock just stares at him with dark eyes, raising an eyebrow in response - and yeah, Jim finds it pretty fun to rile his first officer up. So with a "see you later" to Sardix, Jim walks over to talk to the ambassador, Spock falling in step beside him.
"Greetings!" Jim says enthusiastically when Solok (aka Awesome Elder Spock) finishes his conversation with a middle-aged Vulcan and turns to him.
"Hello, Jim," the ambassador responds, and Jim can feel the younger Spock's growl reverberating through his chest from where they are touching, even though he cannot hear it. And it is kind of odd to see both Spocks in the same place, but thanks to his conversation with Solok yesterday afternoon, Jim knows that no universe-ending paradoxes are going to ensue. Which is a good thing, because he would not want the universe to end before he gets to have sex with Spock - that would be a tragedy.
"I see you recovered the captain from the debate team," Solok observes, and Jim just knows that is a sneaky grin lurking in those dark eyes - Spock does grow up to be one sly old bastard. Jim wonders how much contact he will need to have with his own Spock before his first officer cheats and bends the rules and "implies" to get what he wants. He's kind of looking forward to it. Well, as long as Spock does not try to turn his sneakiness on him.
"Indeed," Spock responds stiffly. "I thank you for your communications on this issue."
"Wait!" Jim interrupts. "You were the one who told Spock where I was last night?"
"Indeed, Jim. I knew young Stekev's intentions when he guided you to my office yesterday afternoon. He held your hand, and called your mind most dynamic. The clues were unmistakable," Ambassador Solok explains.
"So why didn't you tell me that afternoon? You let me go to the debate club meeting, and Spock didn't show up until about an hour after you knew I was going to be there," the human questions.
"Oh my, did I tell you 1930, Commander?" Solok asks his younger self. "I meant 1830. Memory decreases with age, you know. I apologize."
And Jim has to hold in a giggle, because it is so obvious that Solok is playing matchmaker - he wanted Spock to get jealous, and verbally kick the other Vulcans asses, and drag Jim to his cave to have his wicked, wicked way with him. (Unfortunately, there was no wicked having last night, or this afternoon . . . Jim really has to work on that.)
And Jim knows it, and Solok knows that Jim knows it, and Spock knows that Jim knows and that Solok knows it. There is a lot of knowing going on, but nobody calls anyone else out on anything.
"I thank thee," Spock murmurs, hand clutching Jim's hip just a bit tighter.
"Oh, I am sure that I do not know what you are talking about," Solok replies with faux innocence, and it makes Jim grin.
Spocks are just awesome.
One hour later
Spock is still awesome, but he is driving Jim crazy. The human sighs as his first officer growls at yet another young Vulcan that comes up to greet him. As captain of the Enterprise, he is supposed to be mingling with the Vulcan elders and ambassadors and other diplomats – which is kind of hard to do when he has a 6’1” cave-Vulcan glued to his side. And even though the possessiveness is sort of (read: extremely) cute (and maybe a bit hot), Spock really needs to tone it down a bit, at least during on-duty hours. So Jim reaches down to grab his Vulcan’s hand, and that makes Spock docile enough that he willingly follows Jim out onto the heat of the balcony. None of the others are out here – it must be illogical to take a break outside while time could be more efficiently utilized by social interaction (or something like that).
Jim turns to face Spock, letting his thumb caress the back of that warm hand before breaking contact – he needs to be able to think to get his thoughts in order. “Do you trust me, Spock?” the human asks seriously.
Spock almost looks confused at the question, but he assures his captain that he does.
“Then you have to trust me when I say that I promise I will not let any Vulcan but you meld with me, okay? You don’t have to mark me. I know I’m yours,” Jim tells him.
“The others wish for your mind,” Spock replies stiffly, bringing his arms behind his back in his customary pose. “It is logical to protect you from their advances.”
Jim holds in his sigh, this time – but it is a near thing. “Spock – if I say ‘no’, will any of the Vulcans meld with me against my will?” he asks seriously.
“It is a high crime under Vulcan law to meld without permission, in all but the most dire of situations,” his first officer informs him.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Spock. Do you honestly think any of the Vulcans in here would force me into a meld?” Jim questions again.
“It is not likely,” Spock admits. “The statistical probability is . . .”
Jim interrupts him with a firm, but chaste, kiss. “So if you don’t think that any of the Vulcans will force me, than you must be worried that I will give my consent,” Jim reasons. “I won’t. I need you to trust me, Spock.”
“Vulcans do not worry,” and Jim really hates it when his first officer does that. He turns away, bringing his hands up to massage his temples as he rests his elbows on the warm stone of the balcony. “But I will endeavor to give you your space, Captain.”
“Jim,” he corrects, exasperated – refusing to turn to face Spock and looking out over the city instead. “And that’s not why I brought this up, Spock. I don’t want any space between us, but we’re on duty right now, and I need to do my job. I’m a captain, Spock – the youngest captain in the fleet, and they gave me the flagship. So when they say I need to mingle, I need to mingle.”
“I understand, Jim,” Spock replies. “And I apologize for my unprofessional behavior.”
God, are all relationships this difficult?
“Don’t apologize, Spock. It’s nice, to feel wanted. Really wanted, and not just for sex. But now is not the time for it. So how about we kiss and make up, and then split up to talk to all these stuffy old guys, huh?” Jim replies, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“You will inform me immediately if any Vulcans behave inappropriately,” Spock orders – and yeah, they really have to work on his first officer’s bossiness too. But one thing at a time. So Jim reaches up for a quick kiss, just a chaste press of lips on lips – they will have time for more, later.
“I will let you know if any of the Vulcans get frisky with me,” the human assures. “And then you can fight to the death for my honor, okay?”
“Affirmative,” and yeah, Spock seems pretty serious about that.
They will work on that later, too.
Spock watches him like a hawk the first thirty minutes after they separate to mingle – dark eyes tracking his every move, and zooming in on any younger Vulcans that approach Jim. The human just sighs and tries to ignore his not-so-discreet Vulcan bodyguard, smiling and discussing matters of importance to the Vulcan colony with a variety of ambassadors and diplomats and aides. All the while, he tries to remind himself that Spock trusts him, and is probably thinking something along the lines of: “Though the statistical likelihood of a Vulcan melding with Jim against his will is 0.00000124, the captain enjoys defying probability. Thus, it is logical to observe any Vulcans who approach the captain, in order to protect him from any unwanted advances that may ensue.”
Well, or something like that, anyway.
And then Ambassador Solok approaches Spock, and says something that distracts him from his Jim-watching, and Jim sends a silent thanks to sneaky older Spocks who know when humans need their space. So he slips out to the balcony once again, needing a bit of fresh air before they sit down for the evening meal. Another joins him outside, and for a split second he thinks it is Spock (sneaking out for some more alone time) – but no, it is Stekev. Jim is not quite sure how to react to this Vulcan – they have melded many times, and the cool water of Stekev’s thoughts is quite familiar to him, but at the same time . . .
At the same time, he will never trust this Vulcan the way he trusts Spock. He will never trust anyone the way he trusts Spock (except maybe Bones), but there is something in particular about Stekev that is off. He was the first to defy Vulcan morals and meld with Jim, without informing him of the intimacy associated with the act. Solok had not done so either, on Delta Vega – but that was an emergency, and Stekev only wanted to meld for pleasure. Besides, Solok is Spock, and Jim will forgive him many wrongs for which he would not forgive another.
“Greetings, Jim,” Stekev finally speaks up, interrupting the human’s thoughts.
“Greetings,” Jim replies politely, turning from his view of the skyline to face the young Vulcan. “How is your head? I know neck pinches give me headaches.”
“Vulcans have the ability to control their pain, so that it does not control them,” Stekev informs him.
“Well, that’s good,” the human says with a smile – he knew that already, as Spock told him the first time they got into trouble on an away mission, when his first officer threw himself between all danger and Jim . . . basically telling him it was logical for Spock to sustain injuries, as he could manage the pain in a way that Jim could not.
“I wish to apologize for my actions,” the Vulcan tells him. “I have spoken with the Vulcan elders, and they have added my name to the list requesting an adept from Gol, in order to assist calming my emotions. I lost my bond-mate with Vulcan, and my actions have since been erratic. My control is not what it should be.”
Jim notices that Stekev said he wished to apologize – but then he did not do so, only making excuses for his actions. And there is something about the Vulcan’s eyes. They watch Jim’s every move (every breath, and shift, and sigh) in a way that is like Spock, but so not like him at the same time. With Spock, Jim feels safe, and secure, and cared for. With Stekev, now that his mind is no longer clouded by the intoxication of multiple mind melds, Jim only feels violated. As if the Vulcan is a Peeping Tom, gazing at his naked mind – even more intimate than his naked body.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jim finally responds. “And I hope you get the help you need. Now, the dinner is starting soon – I better get inside.” He goes to walk passed Stekev, but the Vulcan’s firm grip wraps around his wrist – preventing him from reaching the safety of Spock’s presence.
“I wish to feel your mind, one last time,” the Vulcan tells him. “It is nirvana, paradise to my bereft mind.”
And then Stekev’s other hand is reaching for Jim’s temple, and Jim is trying to wrench his wrist away but not succeeding against superior Vulcan strength – so he drops to a crouch, sweeping Stekev’s legs out from underneath him, and avoiding contact with the other’s mind. The Vulcan lets go of Jim’s wrist – he would have broken delicate human bones, otherwise.
“No!” Jim states forcefully, standing back up and moving towards the door. “My mind is my own, and you do not have permission to meld with it.”
“Spock,” Stekev says darkly, blaming the half-Vulcan for Jim’s refusal. Jim opens his mouth to inform the Vulcan that he would not meld with Stekev, even if Spock was not in the picture (he even believes it is the truth) – when he feels another step behind him, pressing his chest to Jim’s back.
“You are indeed fortunate that Jim managed to evade your attempt to touch his mind,” Spock informs the other Vulcan, as Stekev regains his feet. “You would not win in a physical altercation between us – and rest assured, I would not have spared your life. As it is, my father will contact your clan head tomorrow – an adept is needed immediately to help regain your control.”
And then Spock’s hand is once again on the small of Jim’s back, and the human is being led back inside – and Jim just knows that Spock will not be taking a single step away from him for the rest of the night.
The dinner is a tense, stilted affair – most of those attending saw Stekev walking in from the balcony after Spock and Jim. And Vulcans are mostly intelligent – combine a flustered Jim accompanied by a possessive Spock, and followed by an angry, embarrassed Stekev (and yes, the emotions bleed through his controls – it is obvious that the young Vulcan needs immediate help), and most come to the correct conclusion.
Jim tries to hold conversation with the Vulcan to his left and those across the table from him, but it is difficult when Spock is watching them all intently, entering the conversation when he deems it appropriate and never allowing Kov (who is one of those sitting across from them) to get more than a word or two in at a time. Jim cannot quite blame him, though – after the incident with Stekev, and the situation this afternoon and last night, his first officer has to be on edge, feeling as though every young Vulcans presents a threat to his (potential) relationship with Jim.
And besides, Jim knows Spock trusts him – it is the others, lacking in control as they are, that he is suspicious of. So Jim soldiers on through the awkward conversations, the inquisitive looks, and the bland Vulcan cuisine. A strange white drink is poured into everyone’s glasses after the after-dinner salad bowls are cleared away – and Jim is curious, and trying to avoid the way Kov is trying to catch his eye, so he turns his attention to his glass.
“Spock, is it rude to drink this without waiting for some speech, or whatever?” he asks his first officer softly.
“Negative,” his Vulcan replies. “You may drink as you wish. The dinner is over after the completion of the meal.”
And Jim kind of gets the sense that is Spock-speak for: “Drink it now, so we may leave and I can have my wicked, wicked way with you.” Jim gives Spock a small, sly smile – taking a small sip from the glass, twisting it around on his tongue and savoring the taste. It is liquid white chocolate, but Jim can just barely taste the tang of alcohol underneath.
"Spock, why didn't you tell me that Vulcan liquor is so strong?" Jim mumbles against his first officer’s shoulder, leaning on him heavily as they head towards the designated beam-up point.
"I did not realize it would affect you so," Spock replies, and he seems almost embarrassed. "You only imbibed a small amount."
"Are you callin' me a lightweight?" the human asks, and he would be indignant, but he is too tired and Spock is too warm, and he really wants to kiss him.
"I do not mean to imply anything negative, Jim," his Vulcan informs him, gently rubbing his back.
That is when Xon chooses to approach them, stepping forward to block their path. "Jim," the large Vulcan greets him, completely ignoring Spock. "I wish to discuss a matter of some importance with you."
"Mmm, sure," Jim mumbles, snuggling up to Spock now that they are no longer moving. His Vulcan is so warm, like his own personal blanket.
"In private," Xon adds, locking gazes with the half-Vulcan.
"I do not believe such a thing wise," Spock informs the other stiffly, tightening his hold on the human. "Have you meditated sufficiently?"
"I have. And I discussed the situation with the Elders. My Time is approaching, and as a childhood disease rendered me sterile, they do not wish to me to bond one of the reproductively viable Vulcan females. I was given permission to approach Jim," Xon explains, and his tone is almost haughty, and Jim really does not understand what is going on here.
"Jim is mine. He is my captain, and my friend. You will not use him to sate your desires. Find another," Spock replies through clenched teeth, and uh oh - he sounds really angry. Jim wonders if Spock is going to choke a bitch, and is glad that this time his own neck is not going to be the victim.
"Then I will challenge you for possession of him. To the victor go the spoils," the large Vulcan states, and yeah, this time he definitely sounds haughty. And also, Jim kind of liked Xon, but why the fuck is he talking as if Jim is not right there? Humans have ears too, even if they are not all pointy and cute and shit!
"Jim is neither a possession nor a spoil," Spock defends him, and Jim really wants to kiss him right now. And maybe get on his knees and blow him. And then turn around, and open himself up for that beautiful Vulcan cock, and just let his first officer sliiiiide in, nice and smooth . . .
"Jim," his Vulcan warns him through gritted teeth. "We are in company. And I will not take advantage of you when you cannot give proper consent. We have discussed this."
"Is he experiencing desire?" Xon asks, stepping forward with an arm outstretched, presumably to touch Jim. Spock does not even let him get close. He gently props Jim up against the wall, and then he just . . . explodes. (Into a flurry of movement, and not literally, because if Spock exploded literally Jim would be very, very sad - and that is an understatement.)
Xon has his legs swept out from underneath him before he knows what hits him, and Spock punches him once, in the face. Before Xon can recover, Spock has him on his front, face pressed to the floor. Spock is straddling that broad back, and he has Xon's arms pinned behind him in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position. The only way this could be better is if they were fighting in mud. Naked. (And Jim would not mind some popcorn, either.)
"Jim is not a possession, but he is mine," Spock growls, and Jim really wants to take all his clothes off and throw himself upon the altar of Spock's complete and utter awesomeness and hotness as a not-so-virgin sacrifice. (As soon as they get back to the ship, he is going to fill out a requisition form for an altar.) "If this was your attempt at a challenge, you have failed miserably. Find another to satisfy your Time, and do not attempt to approach Jim again. I will know."
And Jim kind of shivers, and lets his wobbly legs give out as he slowly slides down the wall. Can Spock fuck him now? Pretty, pretty please? With some sugar and whipped cream on top? And maybe spank him, too - because all of that intensity focused completely on him could probably make him come without Spock ever even touching his cock.
Oooh, they can play professor and cadet, and Jim will be the naughty cadet that cheated on the professor's Kobayashi Maru simulation, and the professor will call him into his office to punish him personally. Jim is so lost in his fantasy that he does not even realize that Spock has gotten off Xon, and the other Vulcan basically scampers away. If he was a dog, his tail would be between his legs.
"You're really hot," Jim informs Spock as his first officer gently pulls him back to his feet, letting most of the human's weight rest on him. "And sweet. That was really sort of romantic. Will you marry me?"
"Please ask again when you are sober," Spock replies, and his eyes go sort of soft, and Jim wants to kiss him - so he does, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his first officer's lips. Spock kisses him back for a long moment, and then gently breaks the kiss.
"When you are sober," he states again, and the blond is not really sure if Spock is talking to Jim or himself.
"Mkay," Jim murmurs, looping his arms around the Vulcan's neck and resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. "You always take such good care of me. You and Bones. Best ever."
And Jim thought Spock would appreciate the compliment, but his posture goes from normal-straight to super-Vulcan-straight, and the human knows he has said something wrong. "Do you allow Doctor McCoy such freedoms with your body?" and oh, there's another growl.
Jim looks up at Spock through half-lidded blue eyes, kind of adoring this jealous and possessive side of his logical first officer – now is a much more appropriate time than at the dinner, and so Jim allows himself to enjoy it. (The Vulcan alcohol may have something to do with it as well, but Jim will not admit such a thing out loud.)
"Well, there was this one time, at flight camp . . ." he trails off, just to see how Spock will react.
"Oomph!" Jim lets out of breath of air as Spock throws him over his shoulder, one hand pressing firmly to the small of his back while the other delivers a firm smack. He kind of likes this whole cave-Vulcan thing – Spock does it so well.
"You are being facetious. Doctor McCoy has only touched you platonically," Spock states as he strides quickly towards the beam-up point, and Jim can tell that he is trying to be firm, but there is a little waver of insecurity in his Vulcan's voice, and it is so at odds with their positions, that the human cannot help but reassure him.
"Yeah," the blond confirms. "Bones is completely and totally straight. Besides, it's been like, five years, and he's still all relationship-shy because of his divorce. I don't fuck friends - it just fucks everything up. So if it's not going to be serious, I don't do it."
"I am very serious," Spock informs him, and Jim lets out a little laugh, sort of woozy from all the blood rushing to his head.
"I know," Jim replies, pressing a chaste kiss to Spock's back, feeling the muscles shift underneath that dress tunic that drives him so crazy, and he hopes the Vulcan can feel it through his dress uniform.
Spock must, because Jim is suddenly on his feet once again, and the blood is rushing from his head, and before he can get his bearings Spock is kissing the life out of him. Jim can only hold on, kissing back frantically as he gets dizzy from Spock's lips and touch and love - and maybe the Vulcan liquor and the way Spock manhandles him have something to do with it, too.
"We will return to the Enterprise now," Spock informs him, lips only a hairsbreadth away. "I will put you to bed, and you will sleep. In the morning, we will discuss our relationship. And then I will fuck you so fiercely that you will forget all others who have come before me."
Jim lets out a moan at the words, rubbing his erection against Spock's hip, grasping at the Vulcan's shoulders frantically. He wants to be closer, so much closer. He wants Spock inside him, physically and mentally. "And meld, too?" Jim manages to ask, even as he presses sloppy kisses all along Spock's strong jaw.
"Yes, my mind will also penetrate yours. And while I may not be the first Vulcan to feel your dynamism, I will certainly be the last," and it's not fair, the way Spock's growl can melt Jim's insides to a big puddle of goo, even as his cock jumps a little.
"But you were the first," Jim mutters, leaning up to suck one of those cute little pointed ears into his mouth. God, is it possible to have a person be a kink? Because Spock is so completely his kink.
"I would remember if we had melded before today," Spock replies, sneaking one of those warm hands up under Jim's top, the sneaking, sneaky Vulcan.
"Well, not you you. Older you. When I was on Delta Vega," the human explains, whining a little bit when Spock moves his ear out of sucking range, and not sure if it is because he mentioned Elder Spock or Delta Vega or something completely unrelated.
"My elder counterpart has melded with you?" Spock asks stiffly - so yep, Elder Spock it is.
"Mm hmm," Jim replies, deciding that if Spock's ears are too far away, he will just have to settle for sucking a hickey onto his neck. It is such an elegant neck, too – it deserves his loving attention, and a nice red mark to prove that it belongs to Jim, and no one else is allowed to touch it, or lick it, or bite it, or . . .
"We will also discuss this in the morning," Spock orders lowly, and it kind of sounds like a threat, and Jim is thinking that maybe if he plays this right he can get that spanking that he really, really wants. His Vulcan is just so intense, and so strong, and so . . . And then somehow they reach the beam up point - Jim is not really sure how, so he must be drunker than he thought. Though he's not completely sure if it's just the Vulcan liquor - he might be a bit drunk on Spock, as well.
Damn gorgeous Vulcan.
And then comes the familiar feeling of his molecules separating, and Jim is once again on his beautiful lady. Bones is at the transporter waiting for them - suspicious doctor probably thinks that Jim could get himself hurt even at a diplomatic dinner with Vulcans. And uh oh, Spock might still be a little pissed from Jim's earlier comments, because he is maybe, sort of, kind of glaring at Bones.
Poor, suspicious doctor.
"Bones!" Jim says with a smile, wondering how far he can milk this without getting his best friend into any real danger. "You missed a wild party!"
And then he slips out of Spock's hold (which loosened during transport) and stumbles over to give the doctor a great big hug. "Are you drunk?" Bones asks, aghast, even as he rubs his captain's back gently. And then he turns to Spock. "You! You let him get drunk at a Vulcan dinner. With all those pointy-eared perverts just itching to get their hands and minds on him?"
"Jim partook in a glass of after-dinner liquor," Spock replies stiffly, walking forward and detangling Jim's arms from around Bones's neck. "We did not anticipate the strength of Vulcan alcohol on his human constitution."
Then Spock tries to pull Jim away from Bones - but the doctor wraps his arms around the blond's waist and does not let go. Spock would have to hurt one of them to separate them (something he is not willing to do, because hurting Jim is of course out of the question and hurting Bones would hurt Jim) – so instead he takes one steps backwards, bringing his hands behind his back in his customary position. And all the while, he is watching Bones’s hands closely, as if afraid that the doctor will try to cop a feel.
"I'm taking him to sickbay for the night," Bones grumbles. "Lord knows what is in that Vulcan alcohol of yours that got him so skunk drunk. I'm holding him for observation."
"You will not hold him, and you will not observe him," Spock growls. "I am bringing the captain to his quarters, where he will sleep."
"Oh, and who's the doctor here?" and uh oh - Bones raises an eyebrow, and Jim wonders if an eyebrow-raising battle will commence. Those are always fantastic.
Spock does not answer Bones's question - but he does also raise any eyebrow, and Jim cannot help the giggle that escapes.
"To sickbay, McDuff!" he mutters against Bones's neck, nuzzling the warm skin there and loving how the hint of stubble pulls against his cheek. Maybe Spock will grow out his stubble a bit, if Jim asks? Really nicely? With a blowjob?
Jim really likes the feel of stubble on his skin. Against his cheek, and his nipples, and his inner thighs, and . . .
"Jim, please cease your present actions," Spock mutters stiffly. And Jim can feel the muscles of Bones's face move as the doctor grins. Bones does love riling Spock up – almost as much as Jim does, though in a much different way. As Jim told Spock, the doctor is completely straight. It is weird that Spock has forgotten already, because he seems to think that Bones is going to molest him in his weakened state unless the Vulcan is there to protect him.
"C'mon, kid," the doctor starts pulling him along. "Let's put you to bed. While we are at it, maybe I can give you that physical you've been dodging."
Jim has to admit that he likes it when Bones goads Spock, a bit. It is always pretty funny.
"The captain is in no state to be evaluated," the Vulcan protests, trailing after them. Jim takes a little peak - and yes, Spock is still watching Bones's hands like a hawk, ready to tear the doctor away if they should wander unprofessionally.
Man, Jim is totally getting that spanking in the morning. He sighs and wiggles a little closer to his best friend as they walk toward the turbo-lift - and smiles into Bones's shoulder when he hears Spock growl.
Life is good. That is his last thought before all the intoxication of the past two days catches up with him, and he blacks out in Bones’s arms – Spock probably did not like that, either.
The next morning
For the second day in a row, Jim wakes up to the bright white of sickbay. Those Vulcans really are troublemakers. Between the melds and their liquor, Jim is going to have a permanent headache. Well, unless he can convince Spock to meld and take it away, the way that Stekev did for him the day before.
"Finally awake?" a voice grumbles from the doorway - and yep, there's Bones.
"Mm hmm," Jim mumbles, turning onto his side and pulling the blanket up over his head - he's not ready to get out of bed yet.
"No you don't, Jim. If you're awake, you're getting up and out of this sickbay - your green-blooded hobgoblin has been bothering me all morning," the doctor growls, ripping the blanket away - leaving Jim in nothing but scrubs.
"Where's my dress uniform?" the blond asks - trying his best to raise his eyebrow, but knowing it does not approach anywhere near the awesomeness of either of his best friends. Because honestly, Spock and Bones are the kings of eyebrow raising.
"Well, we couldn't just let you sleep in it, Jim," Bones replies with a roll of his eyes. "We changed you last night after you passed out in the turbo-lift and we dragged your ass to sickbay."
Bones glares at him.
"Like Spock would let me anywhere near your naked body without his supervision. I tried to explain that I've seen you naked before, and that I certainly am not going to take advantage of you while you're unconscious, but he just growled at me and refused to leave the room," the doctor explains with a huff.
"Good thing you didn't tell him that your fingers have been up my ass, huh?" Jim jokes with a grin, alluding to the embarrassing incident with the - well, let's just say that he refuses to play kinky sex games with Orions anymore, because it results in things getting stuck that have no business being stuck, and needing medical intervention to remove without damage.
"Jim?" and that's Spock, growling, over Bones's shoulder - because oh fuck he just heard Jim's last comment.
"Umm," the blond trails off. "It wasn't sexual or anything. Really. It was just - me, being stupid. Really, really stupid. Don't hurt Bones!"
And that gets him identical eyebrow raises, and wow, what would it be like to have both of them in bed at the same time? Bad thoughts, Jim - very bad thoughts! Spock would spank him for sure. Good thoughts . . .
"Jim!" Bones snaps him out of his fantasy of being held down sideways over Spock's lap, his ass in the air as . . .
"Would you like to explain the circumstances in detail, Jim?" Spock asks, all passive-aggressive (or really, just aggressive) and shit.
"Um. No, not really," he replies with his best 'who me?' smile - the one that occasionally gets him out of trouble. It is not as good as his puppy dog eyes and pout, but then, Jim does not want to be let off the hook completely. The puppy dog eyes would probably melt Spock in a compliant puddle of Vulcan goo, and then Jim would not get the spanking he wants. Bones just snorts, not affected by the look at all, the grumpy bastard. Spock, who had been softening a bit, turns to the other human.
"Would you like to explain, Doctor McCoy?" he questions.
Bones just looks at Jim, an evil smirk crossing his lips as he contemplates his words. "Jim fooled around with two Orion females that wanted to see a human male anally penetrated by a dildo. Problem was, the instrument, which was ceramic by the way, had a pre-existing crack in it - and the tip broke off while inside him. They couldn't get it out, so Jim came to me. Let's just say, it was an interesting couple hours," evil, evil Bones - he promised they would never bring it up again.
Well, technically Jim was the one to bring it up - but still!
"Bones - what about doctor-patient confidentiality?" Jim whines, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting a bit.
"The hobgoblin doesn't count. You guys are so attached at the hip that you are practically the same person," the doctor replies.
"Negative. Jim and I are not attached at the hip - though we soon will be," and the two humans are so shocked at Spock actually making an understandable sexual innuendo that neither reacts when the Vulcan picks up Jim up, places him on his feet, and begins herding him out of sickbay.
"Hey, the crew cannot see me like this!" the blond protests as Spock walks them towards the doors of sickbay. “I’m still in scrubs!”
"The majority of the crew is on the surface, enjoying shore leave, while the others are at their posts. I would not compromise your authority in front of the crew," Spock scolds, and it is kind of ironic, considering it is the Vulcan that should be scolded - for acting like a fucking caveman! Jim just huffs as Spock keys in the code to his quarters, walks through the door – and then as soon as it shuts, he picks Jim up, slinging him over his shoulder.
"You know, I'm not a sack of potatoes!" he protests with another huff, staring at the blue of Spock’s uniform tunic. "And I'm not having sex with you if you are going to be mean to me!"
"Indeed?" Spock questions with a raised eyebrow, after throwing Jim on the bed - and then the goddamn sneaky Vulcan starts taking off his clothes. (Goddamn cheat - Jim does not have to teach him anything about being sly, he already is.)
And then the human is no longer thinking about sneaky Vulcans, because Spock is not wearing a shirt, and - oh wow, where has all of that been hiding? Spock isn't built or anything, not like Cupcake or some other steroid-guzzling meathead, but he is lean, with all these defined muscles, and Jim certainly knows just how strong he is. And then Jim's brain sort of short-circuits, because Spock just kicked off his boots, and he is unbuttoning his pants, unzipping them, sliding them down his hips. Kicking them off. The human just blinks, because somehow he got transported into an alternative universe where Spock just takes off his pants in front of him, and now the Vulcan is in only his regulation briefs - and Jim is way over clothed.
And between the two of them, Jim is the one with the reputation for being a sex god, and Jim is the one who has his own little Vulcan harem. Spock is certainly not going to show him up and take control just by being naked. Jim will show him who is boss.
Spock's eyes are glued to Jim's hands as they go to the button of his scrubs, and he slowly (oh so slowly) starts unbuttoning them. The first few buttons, and the ugly top gapes open to expose his chest - but Jim can work with this. He shrugs a bit, letting the material fall to expose his shoulders, as the sleeves fall halfway down his biceps.
"Do you like what you see, Spock?" the blond asks in his best seductive voice, letting his blue eyes go heavy-lidded. A sharp breath from his Vulcan, and then he is being pounced on, as Spock slides between his thighs and puts his warm hands all over Jim's revealed skin. There are still three buttons left on the scrubs, but Spock does not bother to undo them - just rips, sending buttons scattering everywhere, and wow, that is kind of hot.
And then Spock's mouth is on his neck, and there is a bit of teeth along with the suction, and Jim knows he is going to have one whopper of a hickey when they are through - but the Vulcan is nice enough to do it just below his uniform line, where Jim will know it is there but others (such as his crew) will not be able to see it. Well, unless something happens to Jim's uniform top - which, being Jim, there is a high probability...
"I wish to manually stimulate you," Spock murmurs, voice like liquid chocolate, as his hands go to Jim's bottoms.
"Be my guest," the blond replies with a little smirk, scooting up the bed and falling back against the pillows.
"But I do not believe you deserve it," the Vulcan continues, even as he pulls Jim's bottoms up and off, leaving the human completely naked - and at his mercy. Jim narrows his eyes at his first officer, looming over him.
"I don't deserve it?" he asks, his tone a tad mocking.
"You allowed Dr. McCoy to see and touch your unclothed form," Spock reproaches, bracing his arms on either side of Jim's head - and he should feel trapped, probably, because Jim knows just how strong Spock is. But Jim also remembers their meld, and so Jim also knows that Spock would rather die than harm him. It's what makes Spock perfect for him - just enough edge and danger to keep him interested, but also the fallback of knowing that the Vulcan loves him, and would never really hurt him. (At least, not more than Jim wants to be hurt, anyway.) So Jim lets the fight leech out of him, relaxing his muscles and assuming as submissive a pose as possible.
"Then, maybe you punish me, Commander," he murmurs, ducking his head a bit demurely and looking up at the Vulcan through his lashes.
"You . . . are attempting to seduce me," Spock states, that bit of his pause letting Jim know that he is getting to the Vulcan. Well that, and also the massive bulge pushing against the fabric of those regulation briefs.
"Affirmative, sir," and an added 'shy' smile for good measure. "I've never been spanked before, sir, but I've heard that is the best way to punish naughty cadets."
"Naughty cadets," his first officer repeats, and oh - Jim hopes that he hasn't broken him with his sheer sex appeal – or the kink that is role-playing. But Spock recovers like the champ he is, and Jim barely has time to let out a startled "oomph" before he is face down on the bed, sideways over Spock's lap. Well, Bones always tells him, 'Goddamnit, Jim! Be careful what you wish for. You're a starship captain, not a fairy princess!'
"This is a most advantageous position," Spock informs him, holding Jim down with one hand on the small of his back as the other explores - caressing his back, skipping down to his thighs, and then slowly moving up to pet his ass.
"I'm not a sehlat," the human snarls after a few moments of nothing except petting happening.
"I apologize, Jim," the half Vulcan responds - but he doesn't sound sorry. He sounds smug. "I enjoy feeling your dynamic mind through your skin. It is quite pleasurable."
Jim knows the answer to that one. "Well, the other Vulcans seemed to have more fun touching me when I was feeling pleasure. And right now all I feel is bored," he emphasizes with a little wiggle of his ass up into Spock's palm.
And yep, that was the right thing to say (or the wrong thing, if you were anyone but Jim Kirk). Spock is growling, and his hand is no longer petting so much as squeezing. Hard. Probably hard enough to leave bruises. It makes Jim squirm even more, and Spock must feel his discomfort through the touch, because he stops squeezing and starts caressing again - gentle, as though apologizing without words for his earlier roughness.
Jim bucks in surprise. Despite their relative positions, Jim did not expect Spock to spank him without at least asking first. But then Spock is running gentle circles over Jim's cheeks, and he cannot help but writhe a bit at the pleasure-pain, pushing his half-hard cock in between Spock's thighs.
"I can feel your emotions through your skin, but in such intense situations your wishes may be difficult to discern. You will say 'Solok' if you truly desire that I stop," Spock orders.
And holy fuck, Spock just gave Jim a safe word.
And it is his older self's name.
Kinky. Very kinky.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Jim pushes his ass back towards the slaps, but Spock uses his free hand to push him back down like it's nothing. And the display of strength and the friction of Jim's cock between those warm thighs make the human moan, clutching at the bed as he hardens further.
And Spock's hand falls even more heavily now, each slap pushing Jim's erection between the Vulcan's thighs, stimulating him and distracting him from the sting. It's Spock, so of course the blows are calculated precisely to cause Jim discomfort without actually damaging him, and just the thought of all that intense focus turned completely on him makes Jim want to come.
Jim lets out a little whimper, because his ass is burning but he can feel his cock dripping pre cum on the bare skin of Spock's thighs. The Vulcan relents a bit at the noise, stroking Jim soothingly for a few moments, examining the marks he left upon the human's pale skin.
"Jim, please reach back and hold your gluteus muscles apart," and yeah, that may sound like a request, but it really isn't. Jim obeys with a breathy sigh, bringing his hands back and holding his cheeks apart for whatever Spock wants. It makes him feel so open, so exposed, but he does not have the time to become self-conscious.
Right over his hole, and Jim whimpers, twisting in Spock's hold because he is not sure whether the slap was not enough or too much. Spock does not give him the time to contemplate.
Jim pushes further into the Vulcan's lap in a futile attempt to get away from the sting of Spock's hand directly on his sensitive rim, but it only brings him closer to the edge.
And Jim is so, so close, even as he sobs into the comforter from intensity of it all. He's not sure what he is feeling now - pleasure, pain, some weird mix between the two. And then Spock stops.
"You are close to orgasm, cadet," the Vulcan state, tracing his fingers lightly around Jim's inflamed hole without actually pushing in. And holy fuck, Spock is actually role playing with him - going along with Jim's fantasy, and he has to bite his lip to hold back an unmanly whine at the thought of all the other fantasies Spock might want to help him fulfill.
"I do not wish for you to achieve orgasm until I am anally penetrating you," Spock informs him, pressing the tip of his pointer finger into Jim's hole. "I believe that will be an acceptable punishment, as you enjoy physical discipline far too much to term it a 'punishment'."
God, Jim is going to be fucking monogamous with this guy.
"Spock. Spock, please," he begs, pushing his ass back against the Vulcan's finger, wordlessly asking for more.
But Spock pulls back.
"It is inappropriate to address me so casually, cadet," the Vulcan scolds, and god, Spock has a sexy disciplinarian voice. It makes Jim want to lick him.
And fuck him. And . . .
"You will call me 'Commander', 'Professor', or 'sir'," Spock orders - and yeah, Jim definitely wants that hard Vulcan cock in him – like 5 minutes ago.
"Yes, sir," the blond replies, still face down over his soon-to-be lover's lap - and he wiggles a little bit, pushing his hard cock into Spock's thigh, just to be a little naughty. (And to see what Spock will do.) The Vulcan sighs, as if disappointed in his mischievous action - and then Jim is being manhandled again, twisted up until he is straddling Spock's lap, the Vulcan's large hands on his hips.
"Hi," Jim whispers, deciding that he wants to be the shy, reluctant cadet tonight, looking innocently up at Spock through his lashes. Or, well, it would be an innocent look, if Jim wasn't naked with a hard-as-diamonds erection. But he has to work with the situation.
"I did not hear the proper term of address, cadet," Spock scolds, and there is a fire in his eyes that Jim wants to bring forward.
"Hi, professor," he whispers breathily, leaning up to press a chaste kiss on Spock's lips - and then ruining the reluctant virgin show by grinding his ass down against Spock's cock, still trapped beneath those regulation briefs.
"Do you enjoy being naughty, Cadet Kirk?" the Vulcan asks, tightening his fingers around Jim's hips and stilling his movements. "Seducing all those Vulcans, making them covet what they cannot have. Because you are mine, and I will not share." Jim does not answer, leaning forward to instead lick and suck and nibble on Spock's cute pointed ear. Spock retaliates by standing up, dumping Jim on his ass on the bed. The human pouts, but all he gets in return is a raised eyebrow. The Vulcan opens the top drawer to the nightstand beside the bed - and pulls out a half-used tube of lube.
"I have taken care of my own needs, inflamed by your teasing actions for many months, cadet - and now you will satisfy the lusts you stir," and fuck, Spock could not be any hotter if he tried. And then the Vulcan tosses the tube of lube onto Jim's lap.
"Prepare yourself for me."
Fuck, and Spock just loves to prove Jim wrong.
He does not have to tell Jim twice - the blond leans back (spreading his legs to give his lover a good view), and quickly slicks his fingers, reaching down to open himself up.
"Sp - Professor," Jim moans, as he slips one finger in, pumping in and out awkwardly because of his position.
"Proceed, cadet," and fuck, Spock is so good at this. Jim has a feeling that he will never need another lover – his Vulcan will give him all the adventure and diversity in bed that he craves. So Jim obeys, sliding a second finger in to join the first, using a gentle scissoring motion to stretch himself open. Spock still hasn't taken off his briefs, but from what Jim can see, the Vulcan is a bit bigger than he has taken before (not that he has 'taken' a lot), and it has been a really long time since Jim bottomed. (Not since before the Academy.)
Jim must have been staring, because Spock is not-smirking.
"I believe four fingers will be necessary to adequately prepare your anus for penetration by my penis," and fuck, but Spock is not exaggerating, and how is it that he can make those proper terms sounds so dirty? Jim moans, slipping a third finger in - and oh, it's a stretch. It burns a little bit, and he can't help but wiggle his hips, and the position is awkward, but he wants to see Spock, and he wants Spock to see him, but he really should be on his hands and knees to get the depth he needs. Spock must be having the same thoughts, because he steps forward, grabs Jim's hips, and flips the blond over. Jim scrambles to brace himself, his fingers slipping out in the process.
"I will finish your preparation," Spock informs him - and that is all the warning Jim gets before three digits are slipping into him, gently pulling apart and spreading him wide.
"This is quite pleasurable for me, as Vulcan fingers are sensitive. Indeed, Vulcans kiss with their fingers, instead of their lips," the Vulcan states, and oh - that really does explain a lot.
But before Jim can think about the implications of Vulcans kissing with their fingers - and just how many Vulcan fingers his fingers have come in contact with the past couple days - Spock slips a fourth finger in. Jim lets out a little whimper at the burn, and his first officer stops all movement immediately. And then those fingers crook up, and touch his prostate, and it is all Jim can do to hold himself still, and up.
"Your mind is also quite dynamic - perhaps too dynamic, as it leads other Vulcans to desire you for their own. It also means that I can feel your pleasure through your skin. I wish to feel more," Spock tells him, stroking his prostate once again.
"Holy fuck," Jim curses. "Spock. Spock, please. Please fuck me. I'm ready. I'm really, really ready."
"How did you address me?" he questions, almost dangerously, slowly withdrawing his fingers.
"Spock, foreplay's over. No more games," Jim requests as much as tells him.
"If that is what you wish, Jim," and as much as the blond loves Spock's stern, 'listen-to-me' voice, this is just so much more personal. More real, almost. And exactly what he needs.
"Spock, I want to switch positions," Jim tells him with a little wiggle of his hips.
The Vulcan stills behind him.
"As you are already prepared, I do not believe that would be the most efficient use of our time, Jim," Spock replies - and yeah, Jim pretty much knows that's Vulcan for: 'shut up and let me put my cock in your ass, bitch.'
God, he loves his Vulcan.
"I don't want to top, Spock," the blond huffs. "I just want to be able to kiss you as you fuck me."
"That is acceptable," and yep, that is totally Vulcan for: 'fuck yes, you sex god you.'
So Jim twists over, falling to his back between Spock's arms, braced on either side of his head. He lets his eyes trail down - and how exactly is the Vulcan still wearing his briefs?
"Are you ever going to let me see you?" Jim questions, letting out a little pout that he knows from experience is nearly irresistible. And nope, Spock is not immune - because the Vulcan swoops down to take Jim's mouth in a heated kiss.
"The sight of my genitalia has caused unease in the past," Spock admits against Jim's lips - and the thought of anyone else seeing his Vulcan makes Jim a bit jealous, even as his curiosity rises.
"I promise I won't freak," he assures him. "So please, briefs off?"
"As you wish, Jim," and then Spock is sitting up, putting some space between them as he pushes his briefs down his hips, letting them fall to where his knees meet the bed.
And some part of Jim is registering that Spock is awkwardly maneuvering the briefs down his shins, but the rest of him is focused on Spock's cock. And yeah, he can kind of understand why previous partners might have been a bit uneasy. Jim is really glad that Spock used four fingers to prepare him - and also, he's a little nervous about the fact that Spock's cock is ribbed.
Like some 21st century condom, "for his and her pleasure". Except in this case, it is “for his and his pleasure”. But Jim snaps out of it when he sees the trepidation in Spock's eyes - so, his partner's junk is a little...unique. It's nothing Jim has not dealt with before, and actually, now that Jim is getting over the exoticness, it's kind of . . . No, there's no "kind of" - it is fucking turning him on.
"You're really sexy, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would fuck me now," Jim tells him, breaking the somewhat awkward silence - and then reaching down to pull his knees apart and up for Spock's viewing (and hopefully inserting) pleasure.
"You are not disturbed? Full Vulcans exhibit more defined protrusions during arousal, and full humans do not."
"Spock, you've defended my honor, given me the best meld of my life, romanced me with your nobility, kicked a Vulcan's ass because he propositioned me, spanked me, went along with my role playing, and teased me with those beautiful fingers of yours until I thought I was going to come without a finger on my cock - your penis could be double-ridged, or retractable, or studded, or inflatable, with a fucking knot, and I would still want you to fuck me right now," Jim informs him, reaching his hands down to spread his cheeks, teasing his hole with just the tips of his fingers.
"Jim," Spock murmurs, eyes darkening with lust. "You are a most fascinating human."
And then Jim is being pounced on yet again, and his knees are being held over those strong shoulders, and Spock is kissing the breath out of him - and the tip of that beautiful alien cock is pressed against him, teasing him.
"Spock," Jim whines, bringing his hands up to ruffle Spock's immaculate hair - and it just gets him hotter, seeing his Vulcan all rumpled because of him. And then Spock is pushing in, and holy fuck is it a stretch, but it also feels so, so good - because ribs? Best evolutionary gain ever. Especially when one pushes past his prostate, and Jim has to pull Spock down for another kiss to silence his screams as another, and then another torment his sensitive gland.
"Interesting. It seems you are quite sensitive," Spock observes against his lips.
And before Jim can tell him to shut the fuck up - the Vulcan pulls out, and fuck, but those three ribs push right against his prostate again. Spock will not even need to worry about angle - yeah, the tip of his cock may not be driving into that spot directly, but there's no fucking way he can miss at least brushing against it. And then Spock is driving in again, turning his head so Jim cannot kiss him this time - probably just because he wants to hear Jim whimper, the bastard.
"Spock," Jim whispers, voice needy as he presses desperate kisses to his Vulcan's jaw. "Please, baby. So good, you're so fucking good. Let me - I need - please."
"I know precisely what you need, Jim," Spock assures him - and then the Vulcan proceeds to give it to him, thrusting into him with strong, controlled movements, taking his lips in a passionate kiss as he drives his human wild. And yeah, Jim will totally deny the whimpers spilling from the back of his throat later, but right now all he is concerned about is more and harder and Spock.
Then one of those warm hands moves up to press gently against Jim's meld points, and he can tell the moment Spock initiates a light connection - because it is like his entire body is just one big fucking orgasm, and Jim thinks that maybe he blacked out for a second or so there.
"Most pleasing," Spock whispers smugly in his ear - the smug bastard - as he continues thrusting (smugly), much slower than before.
And Jim is going to die, because Spock has not come yet, but he is so sensitive from orgasm, still twitching a little bit with each successive brush past his prostate by those three fucking ribs, and he is twisting a little bit to pull away, because it is too fucking much. Spock must realize that the pleasure is approaching pain for Jim's hypersensitive nerves, because he makes his thrusts much more shallow, stopping before he reaches that point that makes the blond see stars. But everything is still hypersensitive, and even though it hurts a bit, Jim feels himself harden once more.
"Fascinating," Spock comments - and fuck him, but Jim is not a fucking science experiment.
"Mmph," the human moans into the kiss, squirming closer so his cock is pressed between their stomachs, rubbing between them with every thrust.
And then Spock's hand is on his face once more, and oh - Jim is not ready, but Spock is, and they fall into the meld. It's kind of like a black hole and a supernova all at once, and he definitely loses consciousness this time. Because the next thing Jim knows, he is being cradled to Spock's chest as the Vulcan lays on his back, one warm hand carding gently through his blond hair, and the smugness practically radiates from his first officer. And Jim is kind of feeling loopy again, so he figures maybe Spock enjoyed his dynamic mind at work, and if anyone should be feeling smug it should be Jim - for being all dynamic and fascinating and shit. And Jim being Jim, cannot help but push Spock's buttons.
"Hmm, I wonder if meld sex would be that amazing with just any Vulcan. It would be an interesting experiment. And I do have to go say goodbye to Solok this afternoon before the Enterprise departs."
And maybe Jim is higher than he thought (well, he is in space, so anything is possible) - because suddenly the world shifts, and Jim is pinned underneath a growling Vulcan who is no longer quite so smug, and is instead quite a bit pissed off. Hmm, maybe Jim's dynamic mind made Spock high too? Quite possible, quite possible.
"You will not engage in sexual relations with any being but me for the remainder of your life," Spock orders - in that low growly voice that would make Jim hard if he hadn't just died twice in the past - well, however many minutes. It's kind of hard to tell, what with him passing out and all. As it is, the blond just squirms a bit as the vibrations rumble through his skin from where they are pressed closely together - and Jim decides to be a bit cheeky.
"But Solok is you," and enter strategically-placed batting of eyes and petting of cute pointed ears. Spock blinks down at him - and his eyes soften for just a moment before he pulls Jim's knees over his shoulders once again, this time slipping down so his head is even with the human's groin.
"Then I will keep you so satisfied that you will not be tempted by another," Spock threatens, and then his tongue starts licking Jim's thigh where Vulcan semen is dripping down, following the trail up to the source.
Spock wins the award for Best. Threat. Ever.
"Spock," Jim moans, fisting his hands in that dark hair, not trying to direct but just - holding on. "Mmm . . ."
Spock continues to lick and suck around Jim's hole, collecting all of the semen dripping out of the human's stretched rim.
"'s too much," he protests with a squirm as Spock's tongue slips inside. "Can't - can't get hard again. Promise. 'm satisfied. Very, very satisfied. You're the best Vulcan ever. Best. Ever. Really. Don't want to test ride any of the others. Not even Xon."
Spock's pointer finger slips in and presses directly against Jim's prostate.
Jim jackknifes, trying to pull away from the overwhelming sensations and wondering if it is possible to orgasm with a soft cock - because if anyone can make Jim do the impossible, it's Spock.
"Especially not Xon! Especially," Jim appeases with a whimper, as Spock presses down again with his finger and removes his mouth.
"And my elder self?" he questions with an eyebrow quirk. (Goddamn sexy eyebrow. Spock's does not play fair.)
"I don't want him. Only you you. You're mine. You belong to me. And I belong to you," Jim tells him - and his Vulcan relents at that, sliding back up his body to take his lips in another soul-stealing kiss.
"Mine," Spock mutters softly. "Mine. Mine. Mine. No other can have you."
"Promise," Jim whispers - and he has never meant anything more in his life.
Chapter 5: Epilogue
“Thanks, old friend,” Jim whispers into a pointed ear as he pulls Solok into a hug, ignoring the growling Vulcan behind him – probably watching his elder self’s every move.
“Your happiness is of utmost importance to me, Jim,” Solok replies softly, clutching him close. “As I am sure it will be for my younger self. Do not torment him so – if you need reassurance of his desire, ask him. He will give it to you gladly.”
“I’m not planning on purposely making him jealous anymore,” the human says with a smile, slowly pulling back from the hug. “It would drive me crazy if he was constantly this possessive.”
“Indeed,” the elder Vulcan states. “So your relationship is monogamous?”
“Affirmative,” Spock interrupts, something like a scowl pulling his lips down – and then he steps forward, wraps his hands around Jim’s hips, and pulls the human’s back flush against his chest. “Jim is mine, as I am his.”
“Logical,” Solok murmurs. “Quite logical.”
“So I guess this is good-bye,” Jim says with a small smile. “I don’t know when we will see each other again, so take care, okay?”
“Please do the same,” the ambassador replies. “Though I believe we shall see each other sooner than expected. The sands of home call to every Vulcan.”
A growl rumbles through Spock’s chest, and Jim has to hold in his shiver of arousal – if he is not careful, he is going to be conditioned into orgasm at just that sound.
“You will not speak with him of such things. It is not your place,” Spock tells him firmly. “He is my mate.”
“Of course,” Solok relents, a smile lurking around his eyes. “Though I do hope you will inform him soon.”
“Inform me about what?” Jim questions, twisting a bit in Spock’s arms so he can see his Vulcan’s face. Spock just looks down at him, the tense lines around his eyes and mouth softening, and leans down for a firm human kiss, even as their fingers tangle together in a Vulcan expression of affection.
“All in due time,” Spock murmurs softly against his lips, rubbing his thumb along the back of Jim’s hand – and cutting his eyes to the side to make sure Solok sees the touch. Jim does not comment on the possessive action – and somehow he manages to keep his amusement in check, as well.
“Whatever you say, Spock,” he replies softly, pulling his lips away and turning to face Solok with another smile. “Thanks again, old friend. Live long and prosper.”
Solok raises his hand in the ta’al, and says simply: “Good luck.”
And then the familiar sensation of his molecules separating, and Jim is once again back on his beautiful Enterprise, Spock still tight against his back. Scotty wisely makes no comment as his captain strides off the transporter pad, heading towards the bridge – Spock trailing half a step behind.
“Let’s take our lady out of here, Mr. Sulu,” Jim says, once he takes his rightful place in the captain’s chair.
“Aye, Captain,” Sulu responds, manning the helm.
As the Enterprise speeds into warp, away from the Vulcan colony, Jim turns his bright smile in Spock’s direction, meeting his first officer’s dark eyes. He cannot wait for what will happen next, because every day with this ship under his command and Spock at his side is going to be a great adventure.