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“Hey Spock, come in here for a sec,” Jim Kirk, grand captain of the Enterprise called to his first officer and lover, Spock as he lay, handcuffed to his bed with the blue fuzzy handcuffs he kept stashed away in his closet for when he felt like treating Spock to some kink.

“Yes, T’hy’la?” Spock walked around the divider separating the bed from the rest of the captain’s quarters. He stopped short when he caught sight of Jim on the bed.

“Hey, get over here,” Jim purred sexily. “Cause, you know, I can’t go over to you, can I?”

Spock did not hesitate; in fact, he almost crushed Jim in his haste to jump onto the bed. “If that is your wish, ashaya,” he growled, descending on his naked captain with unabashed enthusiasm.

“Don’t you know it,” Jim gasped when Spock’s mouth latched onto his throat. “You gonna get naked too, or did I do this for nothing?”

“You most certainly did not,” Spock took a break from sucking marks into his Human’s neck to pull off his shirt and pants.

“Mmm, better,” Jim grinned. “Wanna come kiss me?”

“I was under the impression that the implementation of handcuffs was to put me completely in control,” Spock gave Jim his favourite Vulcan smirk. “You are giving far too many orders for my liking.”

“Oh, mister in-control-Vulcan,” Jim’s chuckle was choked off when Spock claimed his mouth in a greedy kiss, sensitive Vulcan fingertips running along Jim’s sides. “Mmm, that’s better.”

“Jim, you are still talking too much,” Spock licked his way down Jim’s body in an effort to cut off Jim’s speech abilities.

He was successful when his mouth found one of its favourite things to suck; the only sounds escaping Jim’s mouth were groans, moans and the occasional whimper.

When Spock determined that he had tortured his T’hy’la enough, he removed the weeping organ from his mouth and position himself between Jim’s trembling legs.

“Oh god yesss,” Jim moaned, writhing and pulling at the handcuffs to get his ass closer to Spock’s erection. “Please Spock.”

“You are completely at my mercy,” Spock murmured, pressing the tip of his cock lightly against Jim’s opening. “I can do with you as I please.”

“Thank God you’re merciful then,” Jim groaned, straining against his restraints, trying desperately to push himself onto Spock. “Do what you want, just hurry up and do it. Pleeeaaase.”

Spock looked at Jim for a second, revelling in the complete desperation in his voice and eyes. Finally, he took pit on him once more and sheathed himself in his lover’s hot channel in one smooth stroke.

“Oh God, right there, yes, Spock, yes,” Jim cried out as Spock thrust into him. With each thrust came another spew of verbal encouragement, and it was not long before the captain was rendered unable to coherently string two words together. With a shout, he came, spurting onto his stomach. Spock followed quickly after.

Jim melted into the mattress, completely worn out. He barely noticed when Spock pulled out and retrieved a damp cloth to clean him with.

His senses started coming back to him when Spock climbed back onto the bed to remove the handcuffs, kissing the marks caused by Jim straining against them.

“You… are awesome,” Jim sighed as Spock put the handcuffs aside and gathered Jim into his arms.

“I do appear to have filled you with awe,” Spock said with amusement.

“Among other things,” Jim chuckled. “You ready for bed?”

“I am sufficiently fatigued,” Spock murmured, drawing the blankets up over them. “Would you like Tiber?” he asked, looking towards the teddy that sat on the nightstand. Jim often grabbed it at night before retiring.

“I’ve got my favourite teddy right here,” Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s torso and squeezed gently.

“Indeed,” Spock kissed the top of his head. “Computer, lights down to five percent.”

“Night, Spock,” Jim sighed contentedly. “I love you.”

He was almost asleep before the murmured “as I love you T’hy’la” reached his ears.




“I can’t believe they stuck me on cleaning duty,” Ensign Crusher complained to Yeoman Rand as they entered the captain’s quarters during Alpha shift the next day to clean. “I’m an ensign, not a yeoman.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started questioning his competency as captain where everyone could hear you then,” Rand reprimanded, going about her usual tasks; ensuring there were no clothes strewn on the floor, making sure the PADD on the desk were in order; she put Crusher in charge of stripping the sheets.

She heard Crusher’s muffled laughter from behind the divider and went to investigate.

“Still think he’s the perfect captain?” he guffawed, holding up a pair of fluffy blue handcuffs. “I found these under the bed.”

“Then put them back,” Rand said sternly. “What the captain and commander do is none of your business.”

“Wow, you are just determined to stick up for them, aren’t you?” Crusher shook his head. “they’re nto saints you know.”

“Compared to you they are,” Rand grimaced. “Now put them back and finish up. “We have two more officers’ quarters to finish.” She turned away and missed Crusher sneaking the cuffs into his pocket.




“Why do I get the feeling the crew are laughing at me again?” Jim asked irritably, after he and Spock passed the fourth table of ensigns who all blushed and looked down.

“No one appears to be laughing captain,” Spock said quietly as they punched in their food codes and waited.

“You know what I mean,” Jim said irritably.

“I think I know,” Doctor Leonard McCoy, Jim’s best friend sidled up behind them with an evil grin on his face. “This might just have to do with a certain captain with a fondness for blue fuzzy things.”

Jim felt his face go pale. “Oh no.”

“They found out something else you didn’t want them to know, huh?” McCoy laughed cruelly. “There’s no secrets on this ship, ya know. But don’t worry, they lose interest in a rumour after about a day. You know how they are.”

Jim nodded, sighed, and went to sit with Spock. He was used to the embarrassing rumours by now; he knew enough to just let them run their course without interference. The only thin Jim wanted was for McCoy to stop being so damn smug.

“It will be alright captain,” Spock said with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “The crew truly does not care who does what behind closed doors.”

“Yeah, people with half as much sense as me don’t even want to know,” McCoy rolled his eyes.

“Is that a minimum, or a maximum, Doctor?” Spock inquired quietly. “If it is a minimum, that is the entire crew, whereas if it is a maximum, I believe the only one in the crew with that amount of sense would be the cat that wanders deck 4.”

McCoy gaped at Spock for a minute before picking up his tray and stomping off, muttering about having better things to do than be insulted by pointy-eared bastards.




“Come,” Jim said when he heard the door buzz later that evening while Spock was in the shower. He knew he looked surprised when Yeoman Rand walked in nervously. “Miss Rand, what can I do for you?”

“I believe I have something that belongs to you, Captain,” she said quietly, her voice trembling with nerves. She brought an item out from behind her back and placed it on the desk; the fluffy handcuffs sat there innocently and Jim felt his face turn scarlet. He looked up to find Rand’s face going a similar colour.

“And where did you get those, Yeoman?” Jim asked testily. He was really tired of his crew parading everything of his around the ship.

“I- I- Ensign Crusher took them from under your bed while we were cleaning yesterday,” Rand stammered. “I didn’t see him take them, but I know it was him, He found them yesterday.”

“I see,” Jim said slowly, feeling his irritation with the ensign rising. He had half a min to transfer him right off the ship, but a better idea popped into his head. “Tell him I want to see him immediately.”

“Y-yes sir,” Rand retreated hastily, her cheeks still flaming.

Jim waited impatiently for Crusher to come; he wanted that boy to learned a little respect, and he wanted it to happen fast.




“They got you cleaning every single toilet on the ship for the rest of the month?” Ensign Hickler asked Crusher the next morning, who came in complaining of a sore back.

“Yeah, and you know what sucks the most?” Crusher groaned. “I picked the first of the month to piss him off.”

Jim listened to the conversation gleefully. Maybe he’d finally taught the annoying ensign a lesson.

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