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Spock had become increasingly more confused over the last week.
He had been in a partnership with Jim for a few months, and the man had never acted so abnormally until just recently.
Whenever they were alone, when Spock did things like lean over his desk, or bend down to pick something up off the floor, Kirk would come up behind him, and-
Smack his ass, for lack of better terminology, and some days he would smack him quite hard .
Upon questioning him, the captain would just grin, throw up his hands, and say “I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Spock.”
He would feign ignorance. Act like he had done nothing but stand there with his hands at his sides.
Was it some form of human courting? Something involved with the way they mated?
He was not a child, Spock had no need for human discipline, and he knew that, that at least, was not what the captain was after.
No, Kirk got some form of entertainment, enjoyment, from this. Whatever this was.
Because of this odd behavior, Spock had begun to keep a closer eye on the other couples that passed along the ship, and he even begun watching the alien couples on planets they visited for any sign of similar mannerism.
But none engaged in it, at least, not publicly, and in the end, Spock was forced to ask the computer.
It turned out to be an action some humans engaged in during copulation, something to, further, certain enjoyments the odd sorts involved themselves in.
So, Kirk was a human of that variety. It wasn't something Spock couldn't work with; he could put the captain over his knee if that's what Kirk wanted him to do.
And it seemed, for all intents and purposes, that that was what Jim wanted him to do.
So, he would, the next time that time allowed it, and days later, upon their next shore leave, the time arrived.
The planet they had chosen for their temporary stay was known for its passivity, and so while most of the crew beamed down, Kirk had asked him to, “stay aboard and reserve some time.” For him that night.
Spock had voiced his agreement, and then the date was set. He would give Kirk what he thought the captain had been hinting at wanting, or at least, what the captain seemed to want to try.
By the time Kirk knocks at his door, Spock is waiting at his desk in only his briefs. Jim knew the code, and so it was only seconds before he strolled in.
“Miss me?” He grins, shimmying his shoulders and coming up to lean down and give Spock a kiss.
“That would make no sense captain, I saw you less than an hour ago.” The Vulcan blinks, confused, and Jim only shrugs.
“Less than an hour too long.”
“Captain,” Spock interrupts, before this odd exchange could go any further, “there is something I had wanted to try.”
“Oh?” Kirk answers, brow raised, “Wanting to spice things up Spock?”
Spock had no spices in his room, and so he assumed this must be another one of Kirk's human specific terminologies.
“Are you opposed?” The Vulcan asks him, hands clasped in his lap, and Kirk's eyes travel down his scantily clad form.
“I can assure you, Mr. Spock,” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss him again, “I am quite favorable to whatever you could be suggesting.”
So, Spock had guessed right, this was something that had been on Kirk's mind.
It was nice to know they had gotten their misunderstanding cleared up.
“You should undress then.” Spock nods, moving to stand up and settle himself into a comfortable sitting position on the center of his bed.
Kirk is quick in his stripping, leaving his clothes in a scattered mess along Spock's floor, and the Vulcan frowns.
“So, what was it you wanted to try?” Jim grins, climbing onto the bed and dragging Spock into another messy kiss.
“I want you to lay across my lap. You can lay your face on this pillow.” Spock instructs him, and Jim looks at him confused for only a moment, before some sort of realization dawns over his face.
“You want to prep me like this?” He laughs, and after thinking the words over, Spock decides that this does constitute as a form of preparation.
Preparation for what was to come at least.
“Yes, exactly that.” The Vulcan nods, and Kirk is quick to make good on his orders.
“This is an odd position to do this in.” Jim stretches, his naked cock pressing deliciously against Spock's clothed one.
The Vulcan was unsure of what other way Kirk would have preferred the spanking to take place, what other way there was, but he could just ask him later.
Jim yelps when Spock's hand smacks against him, his hips jerking forward at the sting.
“Spock, what-”
He is cut off when the Vulcan's hand connects with his skin again, over and over until he can get his mind right enough to reach behind himself and block him.
His cock is painfully hard now, each smack forcing him to grind against Spock's, and before he can catch his breath, the Vulcan smacks the back of his thighs.
Fuck.
“Jim?” Spock calls, his free hand pressing against the base of the captain's neck, “too much?”
“Spock, what are you doing?” Kirk coughs, his breath catching when the hand that had been hitting him starts to rub over his now sore skin.
“Spanking you?”
Now, Kirk may not know everything , but he did know that Spock shouldn't sound more confused than he was.
“Why are you spanking me exactly Mr. Spock?”
“Isn't that what you wanted?”
Kirk thinks hard, a task more difficult when he was hard and his ass was bruising, but he thought nonetheless.
“Spock, when did I ask you to spank me?”
“Isn't that why you had been, why you had been spanking me?”
Spock was never unsure about many things, but he was definitely unsure now. With his touch telepathy it felt like Kirk had enjoyed this, he had been confused, that much Spock could tell, but this was the type of play the computer had told him was often agreed upon and then sprung upon the recipient at random.
It had made sense, and yet, with the way Kirk was talking now-
“I think I see our issue.” Kirk groans, “Spock, humans do that because it's funny, it is hot too, don't get me wrong, but we don't necessarily spank each other over something like that. They are seen as two separate things.”
“I don't understand,” Spock frowns, “when I asked the computer-”
“That damn machine.” Kirk groans, cutting him off and the Vulcan runs a hand through his partner's hair gently.
“I, apologize, captain. I mistook you.”
“It's fine,” Kirk blushes, red from the tips of his ears to the skin just below his shoulders, “it didn't feel that bad.”
“I know captain.” Spock blinks, “You seemed to enjoy it.”
The touch telepathy was a double-edged sword, Kirk decides, and an absolute snitch.
“Well Spock, I think we can move onto the more, definite, pleasures.”
Spock moves to stand when Kirk sits up, and the captain winces when he finds that sitting hurts.
“You are making a mess of my sheets Jim.” The Vulcan calls over, voice his usual monotone, and yet Kirk's face heats up at its teasing implications.
He was hard to the point of dripping , and the wet spot on Spock's now discarded boxers was more his fault than the Vulcan's.
He leans forward when Spock climbs back into bed, spreading his legs, and pushing his hips into the air. It was embarrassing, knowing how red his backend must be, and he hisses through his teeth when Spock's hands grope him, when his thumbs spread Kirk's ass apart.
“Maybe we should implement this into some of our arrangements.” Spock suggests thoughtfully, “it has made you quite sensitive captain.”
And before Kirk can refute him, he feels something wet press against his rim-
Spock's tongue pushes inside him with practiced ease, his hands holding Kirk firmly still, and the captain chokes out a strangled moan.
This, is what Kirk had been wanting, what he needed, and Spock was so good at everything he did. Kirk squirms, his cock hanging uselessly between his reddened thighs, and Spock licks him open so well.
Being captain was a job he loved, something he was proud of, but it was also so taxing, difficult to be in charge of so many lives, to be in charge of everything.
It made him value his time with his partner even more, gave him the reprieve of command he needed. Spock was the only one he could trust with his body like this, the only one with a hook in him so deep that Kirk knew he would never be able to get rid of him completely. Spock was the only one he could be under like this, and for that, he was grateful .
“Feeling sentimental Jim?” Spock asks him, voice a little rougher when he pulls away to catch his breath, and Kirk mourns the loss of his mouth.
“Just glad I have such a capable first officer.”
Spock hums behind him, his fingers coming up to push into the wet mess he'd left behind, and Kirk can't stop his hips from bucking at the stimulation. There was nothing for him to thrust into, no stimulation to relieve the heat in his abdomen, and with a whine of frustration he resigns himself to his fate.
Spock's fingers are good, perfect, but not enough, and when he pulls away to line his cock up instead, Kirk's body buzzes with relief.
The stretch burns, but it's less painful than the throbbing of his bruised skin, and he all but whimpers when Spock's hips thrust flush against him.
“There is some human word for people like you, Jim.” Spock laughs, breathless behind him, and Kirk curses him through their telepathic link of skin.
Masochist.
Spock hums thoughtfully at the presented term, turns it over in his own mind, before pulling out almost completely and then ramming himself back into the trembling man beneath him.
Each slap of skin on skin has Kirk gritting his teeth, has him pressing his own hips back into the Vulcan's thrusts, and when Spock's hand smacks against the side of his thigh, he comes undone with a broken sob of his name.
“Yes, I think you quite like this sort of play captain.” Spock grunts, leaning over to press against his back, and grinding into him from a new angle.
It's painful, it feels good, and Kirk bites into the Vulcan's pillows to keep himself from sobbing aloud. Spock would know either way, but it allowed him to save some sense of his dignity.
When the Vulcan finally comes, he has to wrap an arm around Kirk's hips to keep the captain from collapsing.
“I don't know if I'll be able to command tomorrow.” Kirk groans, just the thought of sitting in that chair for even an hour makes him shiver, and he does collapse when Spock pulls out of him and lets him go.
“You will survive.” Spock shakes his head, and Kirk knows the Vulcan will be of no real help in solving the situation that he created.
It wasn't fair.
“You are cruel Spock.”
“I am only being logical captain; you cannot take the day off because of something like this.”
“It's all your fault.” Kirk complains, shifting uncomfortably to lay himself against his partner’s chest. “I thought Vulcan’s were peaceful.”
“I have only done, and will continue to do, what you want me too Jim.” Spock affirms, pressing a kiss against the captain’s lips when Kirk looks up at him.
“When you say, ‘will continue’…” Kirk trails off, heart flipping in his chest when the Vulcan only raises a brow at him.
“You should not ask questions you already know the answer to captain.”
In the morning, after Spock helps him clean up in the shower, after he kisses Kirk breathless in his bedroom, he leaves the man alone to suffer the uncomfortable fate of his command chair.
It was a heavy price to pay, but it was a weak deterrent, and Jim could only hope that their new ‘interest’ was not discovered during his next physical.