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The Fling

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“What do you think about having a fling?”

Spock eyed him over the top of his frothy tropical mocktini. They were sitting in a booth at their favorite watering hole, a place they’d been meeting for drinks every Friday after classes at the Academy since Jim had enrolled two years prior.  Spock, of course, had been there a year already.

Spock shrugged. “I am not opposed to them. I had a few myself when I first arrived in San Francisco while you were still on Vulcan.”


Spock took a long sip of his mocktini. “Why, Jim? Are you thinking of having one?”

James Tiberius Kirk leaned back against the vinyl booth, clutching his wine glass. He should have guessed Spock wouldn’t make this easy. Spock never made anything easy.

They’d known each other the better chunk of their lives, quite literally. The Kirks had moved on to Vulcan shortly after Winona’s divorce from Frank Taylor and lived in a home next door to her old friend, Amanda Grayson, who had married Sarek, a Vulcan. It had been Amanda and Sarek who had suggested the fresh start for Winona and her sons. 

For Jim it had been the best decision she could have made. And eventually Sam had settled in as well. In fact so much so that Sam was now married to a Vulcan woman and expecting their first child, a boy. Sam wanted to name the boy, Peter, but so far his wife, T’Via, had disapproved.

Jim and Spock had immediately taken to each other and became the best of friends. Inseparable during their school years and beyond.

And if Jim was a little more logical than your average Human and Spock was a little more illogical than your average Vulcan, it worked for them. Everyone at home knew Spock and Kirk and everyone at the Academy too.         

So when Jim came out as gay for the first time in his teen years, it had, logically, been to Spock. And only a year later Spock had admitted to Jim that he was bisexual. Though they’d never become intimate with each other, they’d nursed each other through various serious and not so serious relationships. Spock’s admittedly, mostly with female, though not entirely, but since Jim didn’t intend to suggest any sort of serious relationship that point was entirely irrelevant.

When Spock had decided to forgo the Vulcan Science Academy for Starfleet, Jim had naturally followed, and had been met with some of the same disapproval from the Vulcan Council, who had declared his acceptance into their Academy, when he’d been Human, had been quite unusual, and should not be easily dismissed. Jim had, logically he thought, explained that he agreed, but that since his focus would be on commanding a starship rather than sciences, it made sense for him to cultivate the acceptance there.

At Starfleet, Spock focused, logically on science, and Jim on navigation and command. They each had an apartment at the same building, the Archwood, only a couple of blocks over from the Academy.

Over the years they got the usual ‘joined at the hip’ comments. Jim was used to them. And though they were closer than most brothers, what he was about to propose had never ever come up between them before.

“I’ve had flings before too,” Jim replied. Prior to arriving in San Francisco, his sexual experiences, though admittedly quite limited, had all been with Vulcans. That was no longer the case. For a moment he concentrated on watching the red wine swirl in his glass as he contemplated the wisdom of going forward with his plan. He’d been rehearsing this for days. Since the prior Friday when he’d originally planned to propose it. But that old saying, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ was created for a reason, Jim supposed.

Spock was no longer looking at him, though, when Jim gazed up, and in fact, Spock’s eyes were following the movements of the bartender. Jim knew his best friend had a bit of a crush on the bartender with the long hair drawn back into a pony-tail, but had, as yet, not approached the guy. Jim worried his mention of a fling had Spock thinking in that direction.

“I’m talking about a fling with someone much more familiar,” Jim said.


Spock. Stop looking at Hector and look at me when I’m talking.”

Spock had the grace to blush a light green as he turned his gaze back to Jim. “I apologize. You were saying?”

“When I was talking about having a fling I wasn’t asking your opinion on their merits.” He struggled for patience. “I was asking you about having a fling with me.”

Spock frowned. “I do not understand.”

Jim drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. “You and me. Having sex.”

Spock laughed. And wasn’t that a deflating reaction? It took a lot to make Spock laugh. It was against the Vulcan rules or something. Yet Jim had just done it. Then Spock studied him with a more interested expression. He took another sip from his drink. “Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. Am I that unappealing?”

Jim had expected a quick reassurance, because he knew he wasn’t ugly or anything, so he was surprised when Spock seemed to eye him up and down, like he was trying to decide. Okay, he knew he wasn’t super hot like Spock with dark haired good looks, but he didn’t think he was a total slouch either.


His friend rolled his eyes. “Of course you are not unappealing, Jim. Please. Do you not recall that you were voted the cutest in your class back on Vulcan?”

Jim snorted. “And that was a big surprise. I never expected that from Vulcans. But anyway, what the hell has that got to do with anything? That was just silly nonsense.”

“It was. But you are still cute with those baby blues eyes and sandy hair. Peaches and cream complexion.” Spock nodded. “You are appealing, believe me.”

“You mean red. I’m always turning red. More like Strawberries and cream.” Jim rolled his eyes. “Then why the hesitation?”

“You are my closer to me than anyone, Jim. We are lifelong friends. We are practically family. Getting involved in a relationship will just ruin our friendship and I do not want that.”

“And you think I do? I’m not talking about a relationship, Spock. I don’t want dinners and the movies, walks in the park. I’m talking down and dirty sex.”

“So not a romantic thing at all?”

“Of course not. Nothing like that. Just a friends with benefits kind of thing. We’re both between relationships, right?” He paused to wait for Spock’s nod. “Okay then. Now’s the perfect time for a little experimentation. Just until we’re ready for something else with someone else. No strings attached. When it’s over, it’s over. And we go back to just being friends. Like always.”

“You make it sound way too easy.”

“It is.”

“I don’t know, Jim. Neither of us are very casual. And romance…”

“Gives you the heebs. I know. I’m not looking for romance with you,” Jim assured him. “We already love each other, okay? In a friendly family sort of way, so that’s not an issue.”

Spock set his empty glass on the table and put both hands on the edge. “Let me be honest here. I am bisexual. I am quite attracted to males. However, as you are keenly aware, I was betrothed as a child to T’Pring. At some point, T’Pring and I will fully bond and raise a family together.”

Jim shrugged.  “You’ve had that all arranged since we were kids. I don’t expect you to change. I know how that all works. I spent years on Vulcan, remember?”

Spock nodded. “Then, I have to ask. Why now? I mean, we have been friends for a long time. You’ve never indicated an interest in sexual exploration with me before. What has changed?”

“I’ve always been curious. Well, since I realized I liked guys. But at first I didn’t even know you’d be interested in guys like that, or anything casual at all, considering, and then we both had other people in our lives. And have off and on for years. It’s been a long dry spell for both of us, so I thought if it was ever going to happen, if my curiosity ever got satisfied, so to speak, now was the time.”

Jim pasted on a smile.

“But, hey, if you aren’t interested, it’s cool.” Jim angled his head toward the bar. “I can always have my fling with Hector.”

Spock scowled. “I did not say no. I just asked the why.”

“Okay. So?”

Spock fell silent for so long, Jim was certain the only response was that Jim was out of his mind. He held his breath.

“Very well. I accept. When?”

“Tonight? When we get home?”


Jim had to admit that he hadn’t anticipated Spock’s easy agreement. He’d expected he’d have to do some more convincing or that Spock would just shoot him down entirely. He wasn’t Spock’s type as far as Jim could tell. Spock, when sleeping with men, generally went with the sexy Latino types like Hector back at the bar rather than average guys like him.

But here they were riding back to their apartment complex in Spock’s practical sedan hover car—he was a scientist, after all—with plans to get horizontal once they arrived.

Which begged the age-old question.

Jim cleared his throat. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Spock said, quickly.

And for a moment, that bothered Jim. Like he wasn’t good enough to grace Spock’s bed or something. But the moment didn’t last, because this had been his idea, anyway, and who cared which bed they used for fucking? Jim had a bed and lube. That was what mattered. Besides when it was over, Spock could just get up and leave to his own place without any awkwardness. Or so Jim guessed. If they’d been at Spock’s, Jim would have felt weird about having to rush on out, but Spock would play it much cooler about that. Yeah, Jim’s apartment was the logical choice.

Spock parked the car in his assigned space and then turned to look at Jim. “I will be over shortly.”

Since Jim figured this was Spock’s way of controlling things, something he was generally wanting to do, he agreed with a quick nod. “Sure. No problem. There are a few things I should take care of first, anyway.”

“An hour or so then?”


Jim scurried up the stairs to his apartment and let himself in. He glanced around, wondering if he ought to straighten the place up, but quickly reminded himself that Spock knew he was messy, Spock knew everything, actually, and this wasn’t a real date besides. There was no one to impress with his house cleaning abilities.

So he figured he had time for a shower and a thorough cleaning of himself instead.

When he was done, he realized he still had a good thirty-five minutes still to wait, so he went to his terminal and spent that time going over the contents of the test he was going to be expected to take tomorrow. He had not doubt he would pass it, but a little extra studying was logical.

He’d dressed only in loose fitting shorts, not bothering with underwear, so that he could be ready when Spock arrived. Which a glance at the time on his computer had told him that Spock was already ten minutes over the hour.

Or so, Jim reminded himself.

Kind of unusual for Spock, though. The Vulcan generally preferred to be punctual. And Jim, having been raise on Vulcan himself, generally preferred that as well.

Now Jim started to remind himself that this was probably a really bad idea. He suspected that Spock was already having second thoughts. Probably third and fourth ones too. Jim couldn’t even blame him, really.

He picked up his communication device, saw no texts from Spock, but raised his finger above the little bubble, thinking to put them out of their misery himself.

When there was a short knock on the front door.

Swallowing his stupid nervousness, Jim set the communicator down next to the terminal and went to answer.

Spock had changed too. Out of his work clothes and into a black tank top and jeans. He looked good. Spock knew he looked good in black, particularly. Jim could only imagine he’d dressed this way on purpose as Spock never did anything by chance. His hair was damp as though he too had showered, but he hadn’t bothered to shave away his five o’clock shadow that had just begun to appear across the pale skin of his jaw, and Jim found himself glad. Spock was sexy this way.

But there was some apprehension in Spock’s dark eyes, some uncertainty he was not used to seeing in his friend.

Still, Spock raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me in?”

Jim barely registered that he was standing there, still holding the edge of the door, and not allowing Spock entry.

“Sorry.” He moved out of the doorway. “A little nervous, I guess.”

“Do not be,” Spock said, as he passed Jim, and walked into the living room. “It is no big deal, right? We have both had sex before.”

“But not with each other.”

“No, but this was your idea, Jim.”

It had been, yeah, and he was way overthinking this, thinking them, because this is exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do. They were just friends who were going to fuck. That was all there was to it.

“Yep. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Spock smirked at that and Jim tried not to blush, pretty sure his fair skin gave him away.

At least they didn’t have to have any awkward conversations about who was topping, because, since they were friends, best ones, Spock already knew that Jim’s preferred position was to bottom. And he didn’t think Spock had ever done anything but topped his lovers.

He’d set a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Spock’s dick had some lubrication, Jim knew all about Vulcan anatomy having experienced it firsthand a time or two, but a little extra lubrication couldn’t hurt. 

Spock’s gaze strayed there too and Jim didn’t miss the uptick of his smirk.

Spock had sexy, sensual, plump lips which he really should be kissing, Jim thought.

But this whole thing was still more awkward then it ought to be for two consenting adults.

Jim shook his head, moved to the bed, and yanked off his shorts. It was put up or shut up time. It was his idea.