James T. Kirk loved the middle of the night. It had always been that way.
Before he and Spock finally had admitted their feelings for another about six months ago, he had loved to walk the nearly empty halls of the Enterprise, while her lights were dimmed in a way that was bordering on romantic and only the soothing thrumming of the engines was to be heard.
Nowadays he loved the middle of the night, because he could spent it with Spock; tightly curled around the hotter-than-human body and petting the silken hair on the chest of the alien, while Spock was deep asleep.
Spock was a most peculiar sleeper. Kirk would’ve bet his stash of various alcoholic beverages that Spock’s rest would be light – disturbed by the faintest of sounds.
He could not have been more wrong.
Not only took it quite a lot for the Vulcan to resurface out of whatever mental recess he was climbing into when asleep – say, about five tugs on his chest hair for example; not that Kirk had experimented... – he was also quite... disoriented when you woke him in the middle of the night.
Spock did not seem to really wake up but rather float in a limbo that left him as placid as a kitten. Kirk loved it.
His First Officer might be acting on the bridge like the perfect subordinate, but in the privacy of their quarters he could – and would – be rather dominant. Not that Kirk did not enjoy the change of not having to coax everything out of Spock; but... well. It was really kind of nice to have him be so submissive for a change.
Granted, the first time it had happened, the Captain had been a little disturbed. Kirk had crawled out of bed some time after midnight and gotten a glass of water from the replicator. Due to the fact that he himself was still half asleep, though, he had let the glass fall clumsily to the floor where it shattered with much noise.
“Aw damn!” he swore as silently as possible. He heard a rustling from behind the divider where Spock lay.
“...Jim?” came the deep voice, gravelly from sleep. The Captain sighed, carefully stepped around the debris littering the floor and peeked around the divider.
“Nothing. Was just clumsy – go back to sleep,” he said with a small grin. Spock’s eyes were half lidded, the pupils dilated in the strange twilight that was surrounding them due to the many lights on various panels.
Spock raised his arm slowly in Kirk’s direction; a look of open longing on his face.
“Jim,” he murmured again. The Captain frowned slightly. That was not at all like Spock. Was he ill? He slowly came towards him and caught the hand that was clumsily reaching for him. It was very warm – but not warmer than it needed to be. He carefully perched himself on the edge of the bed next to Spock’s head.
“What is it?” he asked with a little hesitation and almost gasped when Spock pressed his face against his thigh, rubbing it against the fabric of the pyjama bottoms Kirk wore and emitting a sigh – a real sigh. Spock never sighed. Not like that. He normally only emitted a slightly louder breath of air that could not quite be described as a sigh.
Now however... The Vulcan brought their still entwined hands up to his face and started cupping Kirk’s hand against his cheek. He rubbed against it like a cat. Kirk’s mouth fell slightly open in silent astonishment. Spock never was one for... cuddling.
His mouth went unbelievably dry as he started to card his calloused fingers through silky black hair. Spock began emitting deep, guttural sounds of contentment.
A lazy grin spread across Kirk’s features.
That had been about two months prior and Kirk could not withstand the temptation to sometimes... deep in the night... awaken Spock. Just accidentally, of course. He revelled in the way the hot body would be starting to snuggle against him – all pliant and submissive and searching for caresses.
In the mornings Spock was his usual efficient, aloof self – so Kirk thought that he did him no harm in sometimes indulging himself. He also never mentioned Spock’s slightly delirious episodes in the night. The Vulcan would feel humiliated, after all, although that was not what the Captain wanted to elicit.
It was a strange affair – but one that Kirk enjoyed unbelievably.
Right now, though, he was lying with Spock and petting that luscious chest hair of the sleeping alien and thinking about the past day. They had picked up Spock’s father, Ambassador Sarek, in order to bring him to a conference not far away from their real destination. Since the ‘Babylon-incident’ – as Kirk called it secretly – the relationship between Spock and his father was far more relaxed. At least as far as Kirk could tell.
Spock at least didn’t seem to loath to be in the presence of Sarek and that was something. Right?
The human let his thumb glide over Spock’s left olive-tinged nipple and started nuzzling one delicately pointed ear with the tip of his nose. Spock did not react.
He huffed slightly in annoyance, before blowing a warm breath into the sensitive shell and ear-canal. That did the trick – Spock started sluggishly moving, a deep rumble emanating from his chest. A lazy grin spread Kirk’s pale lips and he welcomed the hotter-than-human body eagerly into his arms when it turned towards him.
A black cap of hair shoved itself under his chin. He could feel Spock’s lips rubbing against his protruding collarbone and closed his hazel eyes in reverence. He loved this stubborn half-Vulcan bastard. But this side of him was also... delectable. Kirk was – after all – a man that had an inherent drive to command. It was not in his nature to always wrestle for dominance.
His thoughts came to a screeching halt, when he heard the deep, rough voice speak. He blinked a few times in confusion and wondered if he had heard correctly.
There it was again. He could feel the hot breath puff against his chest, when Spock spoke. One of the slender arms slowly crawled over his waist and started hugging him. Hard. A shiver ran through the lean body of the other man and Spock pressed his face against Kirk’s throat.
“I’m sorry,” the half-Vulcan murmured. It sounded so... broken. Kirk slowly closed his eyes and let his breath rush out of him. He raised one arm and gingerly placed it around Spock’s shoulders.
“Don’t be. You’ve nothing to worry about...” he murmured and after a few seconds debate with himself he ended with a mumbled, “...son.”
A deep sigh emanated from Spock and he pressed his naked belly against the stomach of his lover. The slight tension that had gripped the Vulcan was melting out of him and he became once again pliant.
“Father...” he whispered again. It sounded reverent and awed. It sent a frisson of unexpected heat through Kirk’s body. Never before had he heard Spock being so – meek. Strange thoughts started tumbling through the human’s head. He stared into the semi-darkness of the room, while he held on to Spock like to a lifeline.
Spock didn’t take long to drift back into sleep; Kirk, though, was lying awake for hours after that.
Kirk was watching Spock intently in the following days. Nothing in the demeanour of the half-Vulcan told anything about remembering the strange episode from the night – that was nothing new.
However, the interaction between Spock and Sarek didn’t give him any clues either. Spock was his usual, stoic self – just like his father. Kirk was almost tempted to think that it had never happened – that he had dreamed it.
Should he talk to Spock about it? Kirk was no psychiatrist but it was glaringly obvious that something was... wrong. Was there anything in the relationship between Spock and his father that he did not know about? Something that he should be troubled about?
Thoughts of child abuse were flitting through his brain, but he dismissed them nearly as fast as they had come. The Vulcan culture was not suited for these kinds of problems – after all, it was not logical. And Sarek might not have been an ideal father, but Kirk could see that he was really no abusive one – only a distant one.
So... where did that leave him? Was Spock some kind of pervert? And was he some kind of pervert for liking how reverent Spock had sounded? How submissive and pleading, when he had called him ‘Father’?
Kirk had half a mind to speak with Bones. The Georgian Doctor was in most cases his trusted confession booth and despite his acid comments he usually had sound advice. This time, however... he was reluctant to speak with his best friend about what was happening ‘between the sheets’, so to speak. It did not concern only himself, after all. It was concerning Spock as well and he could not simply go and talk about these things without him knowing.
And if he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to Spock himself about what had happened then there was no way he could talk with Bones about it.
‘Just let it rest, old boy. He was half asleep and he obviously just wanted a little reassurance. You don’t have to interpret it to death. Let it lie and move on, Jim,’ he thought after one week of prodding at it like he would at a sore tooth.
Problem was: he just could not stop thinking about it.
When it happened, they had just finished one of the more dangerous away missions.
Not that they had known that it would be that dangerous; originally they had only planned to investigate some ruins, but Kirk had to accede that wherever the Enterprise was involved there was never ‘just investigating’ to be done.
He had been attacked half during the mission by some beast that had an astonishing semblance to the mythical manticore and only the fact that Spock had quickly jumped between himself and the creature had him now standing in his quarters looking with disdain upon his wounded lover and not lying in some body bag with an open throat.
“What were you thinking jumping in front of me like that? It could’ve killed you! Have you seen its tail? It had spikes. Large ones at that,” Kirk growled, while he patrolled in front of the bunk, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
The Vulcan did a not-quite-sigh and raised one eyebrow.
“My skin is much thicker than yours, Jim. I knew that the creature would not harm me the way it could have harmed you,” he said calmly and reasonably, while he pushed himself a little further up on the pillows. McCoy had mended all the cuts on his upper body, but he was still sore – not that he would admit to it.
Kirk came to an abrupt halt, shooting Spock a fiery glance of indignation.
“That’s not it! I don’t care how much you’ve been hurt. I only care that you’ve been hurt. You want me to take care of myself? Well then start doing the same, buddy!” he hissed and stepped closer towards Spock.
The half-Vulcan avoided the sparkling gaze of the hazel eyes to some degree and shifted around on the bed until Kirk realized that he wasn’t looking for a better position but was genuinely... upset with being told off by his lover. Kirk’s eyebrows slowly rose and his throat constricted to a degree. He had to swallow a few times.
“At least give me the honour of answering me, Spock,” he croaked. The alien slowly and deliberately clasped his hands above his stomach. He cleared his throat a little, but said nothing. Kirk ground his teeth together.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? After I shot that damned thing, you’ve just... lain there. In your blood. ... Spock!”
Kirk bowed down, bracing himself on the mattress and searching for the gaze of the dark eyes. Spock looked at him for but a moment, before his eyes darted away again.
“You have been... worried? That was not my intention,” Spock said at last haltingly, deep baritone voice barely audible.
A deep prickling spread in Kirk’s gut and he drew a sharp breath. Spock was behaving odd. Very odd. He was behaving like...
‘Like when it’s deep in the night and he’s half asleep,’ Kirk thought, watching intently the strained lines around Spock’s mouth and the rigid posture with which he held himself. Was he still in pain? Were the newly healed wounds still tender? Kirk felt sweat starting to spring up between his shoulder blades, when he murmured, “Of course I was worried about you. You’re not Superman, you know. You can be hurt as well, Spock.”
An uneasy gaze out of dark eyes was thrown his way. The Vulcan said nothing, but Kirk could see the way the slender fingers were slowly clenching inside the sheets after Spock had unclasped his hands. Kirk reached for the other man. His heart was pounding in his ears in the face of what he was about to do.
Cool, human hands shoved themselves under the hem of a science blue tunic and a black thermal T-Shirt and shoved both garments up towards Spock’s chest. Hazel eyes were surveying the olive tinged skin. Faint, silvery lines crisscrossing the Vulcan’s flanks were a silent symbol of his fight with the manticore-like creature.
“Jim, what are you – “ Spock began, but Kirk shook his head energetically. He lowered his torso above the half sitting alien, until he was sure his lover could feel his breath upon his skin.
“I’m going to take care of you, son,” he whispered, calloused fingers affectionately rubbing over the new, soft skin, “Daddy’s gonna protect you, you know.”
The slender body stiffened immediately. Kirk could feel the Vulcan heart starting to flutter like a caged bird under his still rubbing fingers. He did not dare to look up and gaze at Spock’s face. He did not wish to know what expression the expressionless alien was sporting at the moment.
When Spock spoke, his voice was low and confused.
“Why are you calling me... You are aware that you are not my father. This is highly inappropriate, Jim and – “
He was brought to a halt by hazel eyes that were at last sparkling up towards him from the vicinity of his stomach. Kirk – encouraged by the fact that Spock hadn’t shoved him away in disgusted indignation – was seizing the opportunity. Now or never.
“No – not Jim. Daddy, Spock,” he said, his voice was husky and his calloused fingers slowly slipped around Spock’s flank in order to rub along the bottom of his spine.
He was not prepared for the look his lover was shooting him; open and vulnerable and full of confusion. Kirk’s breath caught in his throat.
‘What am I doing? Is this the right thing to do? What, if he really has some kind of mental problem and I’m just making it worse? I don’t want to hurt him...’ the human thought, while staring back at Spock, willing him to accept what was happening.
The tension in the lean body was almost unbearable and Kirk was just about to balk and laugh, say that everything had been a joke when Spock slowly started melting back into the headboard of the bunk and raising his arms slightly in an invitation for Kirk to divest him of his shirts.
The human felt like his stomach was about to fall straight through the floor.
“Good boy...” he murmured with numb lips. It was like he had cotton in his mouth. His movements were nonetheless fluent when he divested Spock of his garments.
He heard the hitching in the other man’s breath at the endearment and dark eyes were gliding away from his inquisitive gaze.
“No, son... look at me,” Kirk said, his voice low and urgent. With every word it became easier to slip into his role. The fact that Spock was so pliant before him and actually obeying the order, albeit with some reluctance, was empowering for the human and flooding his neurons like a drug.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time. You can be weak, my precious baby boy. You can lean on me – you know that, right? You’re not alone...” he said, while crawling further upon the bed, his fingers slowly and deliciously unclasping the belt on Spock’s trousers. Spock’s breath hitched again, his hands curling rhythmically into fists at his side, his pupils huge and dilated. There was only a narrow ring of the soft brown iris visible anymore.
“Yes... fa...” he stopped, his slanted eyebrows furrowing and a blush crawling up his neck. Kirk watched him with baited breath. “Yes... Daddy...” he said after a long moment of prickling silence. His breath was coming in silent gasps, his slanted eyebrows twitching in insecurity as he uttered the last word. Kirk was not prepared for the surge of unholy arousal that spiked through his body at being addressed thusly.
‘I’m going to hell for this... Oh God. But it sounds so hot, when he’s sayin’ it,’ he thought, licking his lips and nuzzling with his nose against one of the olive tinged nipples.
His cock was filling with a vengeance and pressed painfully against the confines of his trousers. He emitted a deep, guttural groan and stroked with one hand the flat belly of his lover, while the other hand lowered the zipper on Spock’s trousers.
“Such a good boy. Such a good, good boy. Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good,” he praised the nervous man in a whisper.
A blush of arousal and slight embarrassment was suffusing his golden face; he had never uttered such ridiculous words – but when he started pulling Spock’s trousers down together with his briefs and the alien actually helped by raising his hips eagerly, he forgot all about being embarrassed.
“God, Spock...” he moaned when the hard, double ridged cock sprang free and snuggled up to the tightly constricted stomach of the half-Vulcan. Spock was sitting there, reclined against the headboard, eyes half lidded and heavy on his Captain. He was a breathtaking sight to behold.
Spock raised his arms, reaching for Kirk.
“Let me...” he begun with a deep, growling voice, but Kirk batted the hands away while shaking his head.
“No. You just lay back and enjoy, will you?” he murmured. He was palming his own throbbing erection through the thick material of his pants.
“But – “ Spock started, though a disapproving look of his lover quickly made him shut his mouth.
“... As you wish... Daddy,” Spock relented haltingly. His ivory skin was slowly but surely suffused by a green blush of insecurity. It went all the way down to his stomach – the sight was most endearing.
An also endearing sight was the twitching of the turgid cock lying in wait against Spock’s belly and producing copious amounts of pre-cum at uttering the still unfamiliar phrase.
‘He’s as turned on from all of this as I am,’ Kirk thought wonderingly while pressing the heel of his hand against the base of his throbbing shaft, trying to prolong his orgasm at the thought and sight of his partner.
“Damn you’re gorgeous, son,” he whispered reverently, while bending down and just licking over the glistening, engorged head of Spock’s erection. The Vulcan strained clean of the mattress, emitting a groan that Kirk had never heard in this fashion from Spock before. It was ... loud and uninhibited. It was utterly addicting.
His hands shot out and he grabbed slender hips, pressing them down upon the mattress and marvelling at the fact that Spock was submitting his formidable strength utterly to him.
Kirk began slowly licking up and down the hard length. The tip of his tongue was playing between the ridges that had given him and his prostate so much joy in the past, before his lips were closing themselves just-so over the slit at the head of the organ and sucking lightly. Spock’s fingers were digging into the bedding of the bunk until Kirk thought he would rip holes into them.
“Da-Daddy... nnngh....” the Vulcan moaned raggedly. He had a deep blush on his high cheekbones and his eyes were screwed tightly shut.
Kirk’s thumbs were stroking Spock’s hipbones in soothing circles, while he tongued the slit a last time, before he travelled downwards. His lips were molding themselves around the thick, throbbing vein on the underside of the twitching cock and following it to the large, heavy testicles that were lying lightly furred and vulnerable between the spread thighs of the man.
Kirk hummed appreciatively when he drew one of the quivering sacks into his mouth and bathed it with his tongue.
Spock nearly jack-knifed at that, his hands flying towards Kirk’s golden hair and burying deep into it.
“AAhh... I... I...” he was panting like a dog in heat, fingers shivering against the hot skin of Kirk’s scalp in their effort not to exert too much pressure upon the human.
Kirk let the ball plop out of his mouth, looking up towards Spock.
“You okay there, son?” he asked, voice deep and growling. Spock’s eyes were fixed upon him – huge, vulnerable twin orbs that were searching his face for something Kirk did not quite know. The Vulcan nodded haltingly.
Kirk grinned lopsided and gingerly got off the bed. He had to finally get out of his clothes or his dick would fall off.
“How ‘bout you get yourself ready for your Dad, while he strips?” he said slowly. He had to carefully pronounce every syllable in order for it to be understandable – his voice was a husky, growling mess right now.
Spock scarcely took his eyes off of the human, when he rolled around, opening the upper drawer of the nightstand and pulling out the tube of gel. Kirk’s mouth went dry, when Spock slowly drew his knees up to his body and spread them in order to grant his partner a most delectable view of his genitals.
Spock’s mouth fell open in silent panting, when he shoved slicked fingers into his tight channel and Kirk could feel his own rectum constrict in sympathy and longing. His hands were clumsily fumbling with the clasps of his trousers, while his eyes were riveted upon the two fingers that were embedded into the scorching, Vulcan body – motionless.
The human had to blink a few times, before he slowly raised his gaze. Spock’s eyes were fixated upon him. Trustingly and almost shy despite the fact that he was fingering himself in front of his partner. There was a question in them. Kirk’s brain needed a few moments until it sprang back into gear and a deep, rumbling moan escaped him.
“You’re doing fine, baby boy. Doing so good... Prepare yourself for your Daddy – I don’t wanna hurt you, after all. Never wanna hurt you,” he growled, his speech slightly choppy due to the fact that his heart was beating somewhere in the vicinity of his mouth. Spock’s eyes fluttered shut and a pointed tongue was fluttering out of his mouth in order to moisten his lips.
His fingers began to work inside his clutching channel. Kirk could see the way the ringed muscle was slowly blushing a verdant green and convulsively gripping the intruding digits.
“God...” he sighed and finally shoved his pants down his legs. He just stood there, cock eagerly bouncing in the cool air of his quarters; pre-cum was dripping lazily down his shaft and being soaked up by the thick fleece of golden hair at the base.
His thick muscles were playing agitatedly under the golden tanned skin in an effort to remain where he was and not pounce on Spock and pound him into the mattress. This was not about crazy passion – at least not all of it. This was about caring for this extraordinary creature. In a most unorthodox way.
When Spock finally drew his fingers out of himself with a wet sound that drove straight to Kirk’s cock and made it jump, the human perched on the edge of the bunk.
“Come here, boy...” he said slowly, patting his thick muscled thigh. Spock slowly licked his lower lip and wanted to crawl to his Captain, who shook his head.
“Bring the tube with you,” Kirk growled. The Vulcan snatched the lubricant from between the sheets and advanced towards his mate. Kirk closed his eyes in reverence when he felt the feverish heat emanating from Spock’s body. He took the tube from the unresisting Vulcan fingers and started lathering his own erection with the clear substance. When he at last reached for Spock and drew him into his lap, he marvelled at the way the man willingly crawled into it, bracing himself upon Kirk’s shoulders and staring at him across the short distance that was separating them. Their short, panting breaths were mingling between them and Kirk gripped the slim hips of his First Officer.
“Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good...” he whispered, capturing the lips of the alien and placing open mouthed kisses upon them, while he grasped his leaking erection with one hand and guided it to the well prepared entrance of Spock’s body. The lean creature started slightly shivering upon him and when the thick head of Kirk’s cock started entering the molten heat of the beloved body, plopping through the first resistance of tight muscle, Spock slung his arms around the human’s shoulders and pressed his face against the neck of his partner.
“Da... Daddy...” he ground out. His usually deep voice was a vulnerable, high whisper against Kirk’s skin. The man closed his eyes, rubbing soothing circles into Spock’s back, while driving himself inch after inch into the deliciously clutching channel.
“Shhh... Everything’s all right, son. Everything’s gonna be just fine. I’m gonna take the pain from you,” he whispered into a delicately pointed ear and let his tongue flit over the sensitive tip. He felt Spock’s answering gasp more than he heard it.
When Spock was seated at last fully upon the turgid length of the man, his twitching, verdant cock wedged between their heaving, tight bellies, Kirk thought that he could gladly die then and there. It was paradise – being embedded up to the balls in the molten, tight heat of Spock’s quivering channel.
“So good. ‘Tis so good,” he moaned against the temple of the usually stern half-Vulcan who only moaned in answer.
“Move, son... show your Dad how much you like it,” Kirk growled and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head when Spock immediately started rotating his hips by skilfully balancing with his knees upon the mattress on both sides of Kirk’s hips.
The rhythm was excruciatingly slow, Spock’s large, dark eyes fixed upon Kirk’s face the whole time – seeking for reassurance.
Kirk grit his teeth together.
“Doing so well... yesss...” he moaned tersely, his fingers digging deeper and deeper into Spock’s hip until he simply couldn’t take the slow tugging on his angrily pulsating cock anymore. With a hoarse shout he held the slim hips imprisoned in his grip and started pumping up into the gripping, liquid heat that Spock was providing him with such relish.
Two voices – deep and ragged and masculine – were crying into the silence of the room. Hands were starting to grasp and clutch, the smacking of skin on skin was to be heard.
The vicinity between their heaving stomachs was wet from the pre-cum Spock was emitting in large quantities. His hard cock was sliding with wet, slurping sounds between the thick muscles and being stimulated without the need to touch it manually.
“Daddy... nngghh... yes,” Spock gasped into Kirk’s ear, when the engorged penis nudged against that gland that let sparks fire throughout his body. The Captain marvelled at how vocal Spock was. It was intoxicating.
“Perfect... You’re so perfect...” he whispered, slinging his arms around Spock like he was a life line. He felt his testicles start to constrict and draw up towards his body. Hazel eyes were being tightly shut against the feeling. He gritted his teeth together, desperately hanging on to that precious, fragile moment just before an orgasm. He didn’t want it to end yet.
“I’m gonna... I’m gonna...” he panted, his wet breath fanning over Spock’s ear. A deep growling voice was his answer, “Yes... Me too... aah... Daddy, please.”
And that was it. Those two last words tipped him over the edge without a chance to go back.
Kirk roared like the lion-like creature that had attacked Spock down on the planet, pounding his hips up into the spasming channel like a mad man, until his hot semen was shooting in almost violent spurts into the willing body.
Only through a thick fog of arousal was he aware of Spock shooting his viscous load between their clutching bellies.
“May I inquire as to how you had this particular... idea?” Spock asked after a long time. They were lying next to one another, their bodies still sticky and their breath still a little too fast.
Kirk squirmed slightly.
“No... I’d prefer you would not,” he answered. Spock remained silent for a few seconds and then said, “You... realize that this won’t be the norm of our encounters?”
Kirk felt a deep pang in his gut and trepidation washed over him. Had he done the wrong thing after all?
“I... guess so,” he croaked. He somehow missed the submissive, pliant version of Spock...
A dark capped head was carefully placed upon his shoulder and he felt hot breath tickle the moist skin of his pectoral muscle when Spock whispered, “However, I would not be... averse to you taking care of me once in a while...”
It sounded shy and unsure.
Kirk grinned slowly and deliciously lazy.