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Story Notes:

Paramount, its heirs and assigns (and possibly CBS) owns Star Trek.  I make no profit therefrom.

 

This could be both AOS or TOS.  Depends only on eye color.

 

This story is for Mike, who I love with all my heart.

Out, Damn Spot

Macbeth : Act V, Scene 1

 

Spock kneeled over Jim’s head, lowering just the tip of his penis so it gently brushed his lips.  Jim licked the delicate skin just below the glands, the salty flavor spreading across his tongue.  Spock shifted above him, hips circling his mouth.  Jim lifted his chin and took the head between his teeth.  His tongue swirled around Spock’s shaft.  Spock gasped quietly.

 

Pushing up on Spock’s hips for a better angle, Jim opened his mouth to take the rigid organ.  Spock thrust into his mouth several times before leaning over and taking Jim’s cock in his mouth.  Jim arched off the bed as the back of Spock’s throat closed around him.  They lay quietly for a moment, gently using tongues and teeth, savoring their arousal.  Finally, Spock gave a tiny thrust, followed by another.  When Jim responded in kind, they found a rhythm together, each pulse ratcheting them higher and higher until all control was lost.  Pistoning into each other’s mouths, they came together, Spock almost choking on Jim’s cum while Jim neatly swallowed, his throat closing on Spock’s shaft, causing yet another cascade of orgasm. 

 

Pulling off, Spock collapsed next to Jim, his face pressed into the wiry hair of his groin.  Jim reached over and patted Spock’s thigh weakly.

 

“I think I went blind just then.”

 

Spock’s response was inaudible and possibly not in English.

 

“My god, Spock.  That was amazing.  You are amazing.”

 

Spock might have twitched but didn’t seem inclined to move anytime soon.

 

Jim sat up and smoothed his lover’s hair off his forehead.  Spock burrowed deeper into Jim’s lap, giving his penis a gentle nip.

 

Laughing, Jim escaped Spock’s sharp teeth, returning a minute later with a warm towel and a glass of water for them both.

 

Spock managed to lever himself up onto one elbow, drank his water and then collapsed in a post coital heap on the bed.

 

Still chuckling, Jim stretched out beside him.  Lying on his back, he folded his hands across his stomach.  He wanted to ask Spock a question, but really wasn’t sure that his vaunted privacy would allow it.  Of course he’d recently had his finger up his ass and his mouth on his dick, how much privacy could Spock expect after that?  He figured he could give it a go.

 

“Spock.”

 

The only response was a sleepy sigh.

 

“Spock.”

 

Finally.  “Yes, Jim.  What do you want?”

 

“I want to ask you a question.”

 

“It can not wait?”

 

“Of course.  I was just curious.”

 

Spock snorted quietly.  “Please go ahead.  I will attempt to answer you.”

 

“I was just wondering when you knew.”

 

“Knew what?”

 

“Knew you were gay, homosexual, not straight.”

 

“But I am straight.”

 

Jim grabbed the pillow and swatted him with it.  “Liar.”

 

Spock covered his face to protect himself.  “Vulcans do not lie.”

 

“You just did.  If you are straight, explain giving me the best blowjob of my life just now.   Explain the last four months in my bed and in my . . .”

 

“Four months, two weeks, six days and eight hours . . .”

 

The pummeling began again.

 

In the interest of intergalactic peace, Spock interrupted quickly.  “Technically, according to Vulcan records, I am not designated as a homosexual.”

 

“Then you came out in the service?”

 

“No.”

 

Jim rolled over and stared at Spock’s profile.  “Explain, Mister.”

 

“Jim, I have never come ‘out’.  My sexuality is my own, unique.  It is no one’s concern but mine.”

 

Jim spread his fingers on Spock’s chest.  For a moment, he was silent, watching it rise and fall with each breath.

 

Gently, Jim continued.  “I’d hoped it was mine, too.”  

 

Soft brown eyes turned and gazed at Jim then looked up at the ceiling.

 

Jim sighed and curled up next to Spock’s warm body, willing to let it go.  He was surprised when he heard Spock’s voice continue.

 

“When I was an adolescent, there was a boy who I was sexually attracted to.”

 

Jim stroked Spock’s chest.  “Go on.”

 

“We frequently camped out on the Forge together.  He was my friend.  I trusted him.  He never judged me, he never held me up to the Vulcan standards I knew even then, I could not meet.”

 

Spock sighed.  “We became not lovers, exactly but often explored our sexuality together.  I realized then that males aroused me.  He aroused me.”

 

“And?”

 

“Not surprisingly, our experimentation was discovered as we had become too comfortable.  One afternoon, after we had finished studying, his sister interrupted a particularly passionate moment.  Of course, she informed his parents, who in turn informed mine.”

 

“That must have been awkward.”

 

Spock turned his head and looked into Jim’s eyes.  “It was more than that.  His sister was my betrothed, T’Pring.”

 

“Dear god.”

 

“Precisely.  We were both sent to mind healers, separately of course.  It was determined early on that it was my bad blood that had caused the relationship to go to that extreme.  It was my perverse need and desire for emotionalism that seduced him.”

 

“You believed that, didn’t you?  You took the blame.”

 

“It was the logical thing to do.   I had less at stake than he.  I was already tried and convicted of perversity.  It served no purpose to bring him into it further.”

 

Jim whispered, hurting for the boy that Spock had been.  “Your parents, though, surely they . . ?”

 

Spock resumed his careful study of the ceiling.  “Perhaps, on Earth, it might have been different.  On Vulcan, it was not so much about our sexuality, but the emotionalism that accompanied our relationship.  I dared call him ‘friend’.  So they tried to eradicate those desires from me.”  

 

Jim almost didn’t want to hear the rest of it.  “How?  How could they change a fundamental part of your makeup?”

 

“Ah, Jim.  The mind healers had their ways.   When nothing else worked, they resorted to what you would call aversion therapy.”

 

Jim choked, shuddering at what that might mean.  “What did they do?  What did they do to you?”

 

“The therapy involved stimulating me and then punishing me for responding until I simply could not respond anymore.”

 

“My god!  That’s barbaric!  How could they do that?  What kind of monsters were they?”

 

“Not monsters, Jim.  They did what they thought would work in light of my human lineage.  The other boy responded far more quickly to the therapy than I and was cured.”

 

“You can’t cure homosexuality!  It’s not a damn disease.”

 

“I am aware. Be that as it may, it was many years before the barriers the mind healers created broke down in my mind and I was able to experience any desire, for a man or a woman.”

 

Jim fought tears of anger and hurt.  One slipped down his cheek and was caught by Spock’s paired fingers.  He stroked Jim’s face softly.

 

“For me, Jim?  Unnecessary.  For whatever was lost, I have found something precious.”

 

Jim leaned over and kissed Spock gently.  Clearing his throat, he asked, “When the mind barriers broke down, what happened?”

 

“Why, Jim.  I met you.  Must I remind you of the course our relationship has taken?”

 

Jim gave him a watery smile.  “No, I think I remember.”

 

Jim laid his head down on Spock’s warm shoulder and they were silent for a while, locked in their own minds.

 

Finally, without raising his head, Jim had to ask.  “So, you are gay now?”

 

Spock grabbed the pillow and gave Jim several swats until, with a chuckle, he answered, “Of course

Chapter End Notes:

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