body like, a body like yours
ought to be in jail
the girl’s on the verge of being obscene
move over baby
give me the keys
I’m gonna try to tame your little red love machine
~Prince, from Little Red Corvette
The cherry-red aircar blew dust as it screamed to a halt above the deserted beach. Jim Kirk watched the arrival admiringly; it took guts and skill to handle a Mark 7 Rhaatid like that, and he couldn’t help but grin as the dust settled. The machine ticked to itself for a moment as the skin cooled, then the left side wing rose and the driver stepped out.
For a minute Kirk felt his face freeze, then a flush started from his toes and rose to his hairline. It was the Vulcan, Spock. Once his best customer back in his hustling days, and the single greatest sexual encounter of his life before or since, now he knew he was the First Officer and Science Officer of the ship he had just been tagged to Captain: Enterprise. He had been wondering how to approach their first meeting for a week now, ever since his orders had come in. Spock... God, he looked wonderful. Lean and compelling as ever, dressed in immaculate black silk shirt and trousers, with the points of fine leather boots showing from below the narrow hem. He lowered the wing of the sports car gently and stood for a moment with a hand on the aircar’s roof, then turned toward the beach.
Spock saw him immediately, his gaze pinning him to the log he was straddling. The Vulcan didn’t move, just stood quietly, his face immobile. Kirk stood up slowly, aware that he was showing his interest rather obviously in his tight jeans, and faced Spock fearlessly, crossing his arms across his bare chest. His white t-shirt lay where he had discarded it on the log, but he wasn’t going to show any discomfort before his one-time patron and future subordinate by dressing for him. Not a chance. Besides, the autumn sun was warm enough to go shirtless on his last day of leave.
After a long exchange of still looks, Spock nodded and stepped down onto the sand. He paced deliberately over to Kirk, swept him up and down with those black eyes, and then settled onto the log. Kirk waited a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to have this discussion, then swung down onto the log again.
They looked out at the surf. Kirk was amazed by the perfect posture of his companion: people always slouched when they sat on logs – it was natural. He let his spine curve comfortably and rested his forearms on his thighs, deciding to take the initiative. “I didn’t expect to see you before I take command tomorrow.”
“I wished to ascertain whether I should apply for a transfer before Enterprise leaves orbit.”
“Ah.” Spock had spoken without inflection in his deep, dry voice. Kirk turned to look at him for a moment, but Spock kept his eyes on the water. “A transfer on what grounds, exactly?”
“It has been ten point four-five standard years since our first encounter. That encounter was under circumstances so vastly different than what our working relationship would have to be, as to be almost diametrically opposed. I am to be your First Officer and yet, for a day many years ago, I used you as I doubt you have ever been used before, or since.”
Kirk flushed darkly at the memory, and felt his pulse begin to pound. “You paid properly. Who used whom?”
“That is semantics. The fact that I paid for your service does not mean that you did not serve me, and serve me very well indeed.”
Kirk let the silence stretch out, and then stretched and stood up from the log. “How did you find me?”
“You left word with Command that you would be here. It was a simple matter.”
“That’s not a very logical car.”
“It is for me. It is fast and efficient, and I can afford it, and so I use it.”
Spock was still sitting rather rigidly on the log. Kirk surveyed him head to foot, and then crouched down and began to sieve sand through his hands. “It was a great day. I seldom enjoyed hustling that much. I remember it fondly.” He thought he saw the Vulcan wince at that, but carried on. “But that was then. That was a job, Spock. I am about to become the youngest commander of a starship that ‘Fleet has ever appointed. I told you I would make Captain and I did. I’m not a prostitute any more, and the past is past. It’s in my records, so you can neither hold it against me nor intimidate me with it. Fleet doesn’t mind, I’m not ashamed, and you need to realize that. Do you?”
“And yet you have an erection just remembering it,” Spock replied, finally meeting his eyes.
Kirk grinned and held the dark gaze. “I do, indeed. I’ve always been a hair-trigger, and you’re as sexy as ever, Spock. It would be bad form, however, for me to have a sexual relationship with my first officer. So you needn’t worry about harassment.”
“I am not. I would not tolerate harassment. That does not preclude, however, a sexual relationship between us.” Kirk knew that Spock saw his surprise, but he kept silent, waiting for more information on that amazing statement. Spock shifted on the log. “I do not think that I could ship with you, Captain Kirk, without wanting to have a relationship with you. I, too, remember that day. It was extremely intense, and you have lost neither your fitness nor your beauty. My request for transfer will be submitted if I find I can’t have you, James. Do you understand? Since learning you were to captain Enterprise, I have been obsessed by you. I need to know if our minds are still compatible.”
Heat ran over Kirk’s whole body, and he knew he was open mouthed, but he was having trouble breathing. “It’s against regs, Spock,” he finally said, taking refuge in bureaucracy.
“Regulations apply to superior officers having relationships that may be based on rank and influence, rather than true attraction. That is impossible for a Vulcan. You cannot intimidate or threaten me with your rank. If you were coming onboard Enterprise as my subordinate, we would be having this same conversation; I would transfer in that case as well if I found we could not... reconnect.”
“Yes. I have known, from that day, that to be in your presence would be to want you. And I do.” He scrubbed one hand on his thigh, and then let it rest again. “And I want to own you, James Kirk, in private. I can follow your orders as my Captain; ‘Fleet would not have appointed an incompetent. In public I can be your perfect subordinate. But in private, I want you. All of you.”
Kirk was mesmerized. His erection was throbbing in his jeans, and he could think of nothing he wanted more than to rip off his pants and spread his legs for this beautiful man. But it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t happen.
“It can’t happen, Spock. I can’t be the Captain and be your boy-toy as well. It’s just impossible.”
“Deny that you want it.”
Kirk’s mouth was dry. He stood up slowly, letting the sand fall from his hand. “It’s a very... erotic idea. But I need all my energy to be Captain. They will all be watching for any mistakes, any mistakes at all, because of my age. Star Fleet will be watching, and so will my crew. My crew. I can’t be a cabin-boy, a sexual object, for the one man who must, must support me one hundred percent.” He turned away to get that beauty, that strength and sexual energy, out of his sight, and took a deep breath. “I think you’d better apply for that transfer.”
Spock stood up, too, and set one hand on Kirk’s shoulder. It was hot, and the gentle caress ran straight to his crotch like a jolt of electricity. “Very well. I shall apply for a transfer in the morning. Will you, can you, bring yourself to spend the evening with me? I believe that, since we are not to be serving together, an evening of enjoying one another’s... company... would not be against regulations.”
Kirk felt his resolve vanish, and he turned toward Spock with a smile. “I’d like that. Very much. You were a hell of a great client.”
“I think you’ll find my technique has improved since that time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Kirk didn’t flinch as the Vulcan gathered him into his arms and pressed his lips into a kiss. God, he was hard! He could feel the fluid leaking from the head of his cock and staining his trousers, but he didn’t care. “God, Spock, I want you to fuck me...” he said into the open mouth. The warm hands roamed up his back, and tickled his neck, and then settled on his face...
Things got a bit fuzzy. He and Spock had been talking... some kind of disagreement? No, nonsense. He could never disagree with Spock. Never disagree...
The hands fell from his face to the fastening of his trousers. Kirk’s head was still spinning from the kiss; he made no effort to resist as Spock pressed him gently down onto the sand and pressed a finger into his ass. God, to think he could have years of this, years of this man fucking him whenever he wanted... he wanted... who wanted??
“You want me to fuck you.”
“I do? I do.”
“You want me to fuck you every day and night of our five year mission together. You will be an excellent captain, but in my cabin, you will be mine. It’s what you want.”
“Oh, yes, Spock. Oh yes, all I want. To belong to you.” The finger withdrew and that hot, hard, huge cock was pushing into him, and Kirk was coming all over himself just at the pleasure/pain of being penetrated, and he was screaming over the pounding of the surf. It was perfect. It was all he wanted.
Much later that night, Kirk rolled over sleepily and watched as Spock dressed on the other side of the bed. “So, I’ll see you on board, then?”
“Yes, Jim. Don’t forget, you need to purchase the cuffs and the paddle that I asked you for before you beam aboard. And I’ll expect you in my cabin by 22:00 hours tonight.”
“Don’t worry Spock. Even a captain needs his nightly chat with a friend, and a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes. You will be good at hiding our relationship from the crew.” Spock fastened his trousers and smoothed his shirt. “I believe I have convinced you that we can manage this effectively.”
“I wouldn’t ship out without you, Spock.” Kirk yawned and ran a hand down his smooth chest. “I’m glad you made me shave. I’d forgotten how nice a bare body feels against a hairy one.”
“I had not. Until tomorrow, Jim.”
Link to next in trilogy >>> Turning Up The Heat