Not So Gently
A huff was forced out from Spock as his shoulder blades were shoved back against the cool porcelain tiles of the shower stall. In the heat of the moment, his parted lips managed one half-drawn breath of hot, steam-filled air, before they were immediately assaulted and covered by Jim’s own again. There was no resistance. With the falling of his wet eyelashes, he accepted the aggressive human tongue into his mouth and tilted his head to the side, his hands sliding up to entangle with Jim’s dark brown hair.
Spock emitted the faintest sound into the kiss, feeling Jim grasping even tighter to his shoulders before releasing them. His hands wandered in different directions; most notable was the left one traveling the small distance upward to cup his jaw. Jim’s thumb slipped across Spock’s cheek, the other digits splitting to splay out beneath his ear and chin. It was a clear act of dominance, to keep Spock’s face exactly where it was as Jim withdrew from the intense kiss.
Both heaving for air, Jim’s lips quickly claimed Spock’s once more before he leaned away just far enough to look at him. His thumb dragged back down across his cheek until the pad was pressing square against the center of Spock’s barely parted mouth. Besides Jim’s heavy breathing, the only other relevant motion Spock could detect at the moment was in those hazel eyes blown wide with lust; they flickered very slightly back and forth as they scrutinized and drank in the sight before them, observing every bit of feedback his actions inspired.
Spock’s lips opened a little wider and his tongue poked out, prodding and flicking at Jim’s thumb before taking it into his mouth. His dark eyes fell closed again as the blush staining his cheeks grew deeper at the overtly lewd act. He cocked his head to the side and curled his tongue around the digit, paying special attention to the rough texture of Jim’s skin before sucking hard. He focused on that action for several moments, and then took the thumb firmly between his front teeth, opening his lips just enough to breathe around it—as if he were wordlessly declaring some sort of claim to Jim.
The atmosphere surrounding them had become increasingly electrified—raw and irrepressible, as if each sensation carried a charge that needled at the nerves with the thrumming of eroticism. Spock’s reception to touch had magnified so greatly in his heightened state of arousal that even the droplets of water escaping from his short black hair and sliding slowly down his face felt dangerously titillating.
Now, however, Spock’s attention was piqued by Jim’s other hand, which was leisurely trailing down the length of his long torso. Those beloved fingertips only grazed over his sensitive Vulcan flesh in the lightest of touches, sometimes even breaking contact before reestablishing the connection a little further down. Though Jim barely ghosted over his skin, Spock was still fully capable of reading the utter prurience Jim radiated—pent up, uncontrollable human sexual desire, aimed entirely at him.
And Spock wanted it no other way.
Spock leaned his head back against the tile as the hand wandering down his frame paused for a moment at his gaunt hip. His mouth opened and he finally released Jim’s finger that had been held captive, only to feel it stroke across his lips softly once more. As the caress continued, Jim leaned in closer, his hardened cock brushing by Spock’s own, and pressed a kiss to the nearest cheekbone.
With his hand still gently cupping the other side of the angular Vulcan face, Jim carefully coaxed Spock’s head to the side, so that his breaths fell but millimeters from the pointed ear.
“Spock,” Jim drawled, his voice just above a whisper. His hand left the hip it had docked at and began a slow trail to where the double-ridged cock stood trapped between their bodies; it paused just before making contact.
Exhaling a breath, Spock’s nimble digits released from Jim’s hair and went in separate ways. One clutched the wrist of the hand cradling the side of his face as the other took a stiff hold of Jim’s opposite bicep. Bracing himself, Spock found he was holding his breath in anticipation for the touch he longed for this entire time, and very slightly pushed his hips forward to convey that desire.
He didn’t have to wait any further; his thrust was an invitation Jim clearly didn’t need twice.
Jim’s hand wrapped around the tumid shaft, abandoning the feather-light gentleness he had employed on his journey down and traded it for a strong, commanding grasp. He slipped his fist up and down Spock’s rod several times before his fingers reached to the side and pulled his own cock into his clutches.
“Perfect,” Jim whispered into his ear, as he started massaging both shafts together between the heat of their bodies, their precome intermingling. “You’re perfect. You know that?”
Spock merely shook his head twice in reply, his eyes never reopening as he allowed the feeling of Jim slowly jerking them both off to carry him away.
“Why? You’re so hot,” Jim growled into that ear. “God, I couldn’t wait to put my hands on you like this.”
His lips broke contact from their current position, trailing down Spock’s jaw and to the long, exposed stretch of neck. Opening his mouth, Jim laved at the delicate flesh with his tongue before closing his lips and sucking.
Spock was aware his chest had begun rising and falling more visibly now, entirely claimed by every movement Jim made and wholly captivated by each word he spoke. The soft sultriness of that voice sent shivers running down his tall spine—directly into the tight knot that was building even further in his groin with every passing moment, until he found himself desperate for more.
It was ridiculous. They’d hardly even done anything and the situation was already unbearable. Though shore leave had been cancelled on the first night, the very thought of not being able to engage in sexual activity with Jim over a period of five days had only made Spock want it even more. It was illogical to assume that this willful denial would have inspired such aching need within him, but that, he decided, was the consequence of being bonded to a man who had addicted him to pleasure.
Spock had lain in his sleeping bag once they all bade each other good night, imagining Jim’s hands all over him, and then quelling the stirring of his cock with an informal mediation session. He eventually triumphed (“Mind over matter,” once said Surak) and drifted off, but not before making a mental note to avoid inviting anyone else to join them on future shore leaves. McCoy had snored loudly at that particular moment, as if he’d known Spock’s thoughts.
However, the trip and the mission, the undesirable thought of being unable to touch Jim…they were all so very far away from him now.
Jim released Spock’s neck with a particularly strong suck that was sure to leave a blemish, and planted a trail of kisses as his mouth traveled up again. He trailed along the narrow jaw and finally returned to his ear. With a shudder as he continued working both of their dicks in controlled strokes, Jim’s other hand finally abandoned Spock’s cheek. It moved across the small space between their chests and to the Vulcan digits still pressed tightly to his bicep. Pulling them free with a tug of the wrist, Jim proceeded to guide them down and then released their cocks into Spock’s grasp.
With both of his hands available, Jim grabbed tightly to Spock’s hips for a half-hearted moment, before letting them slide around and cup the cheeks of his ass. He offered one rough squeeze, and then pulled Spock’s body forward so that it was flush with his own.
“You looked so good in the soft light from that fire, Spock,” Jim murmured into that ear. “So good. You have no idea how much I wanted to rip your clothes off then and there.”
A choppy breath exhaled from Spock’s lips and his toes curled against the water pooling on the tiled floor by the drain. His eyes finally opened half-lidded, head still leaned back against the wall. Though his hand was trapped between the closeness of their bodies, he was able to maintain the same pleasurable slow pace of jerking them both off.
The feeling of Jim’s rod against his in his hand had an unspeakable effect on him—but not as much as the words that came next.
“That’s right. Right in front of McCoy. Can you imagine it?”
Spock swallowed hard before his lips opened again. His voice was small and airy, full of defeat, as he slightly raised both eyebrows and choked out, “No.”
Jim hummed a low growl and tightly squeezed Spock’s asscheeks again, but didn’t release them. Instead, he kept Spock spread wide and bucked his hips, sending his cock spearing up into the fist surrounding it.
“Let me tell you then,” he spoke with sudden roughness, causing Spock to noticeably shudder. “Let me tell you,” Jim repeated and pulled even wider on his cheeks, “what would happen.”
Spock had begun rolling his hips in small motions, milking their cocks, and finding himself clinging to every last word Jim graced him with. His lower lip curled in very minimally, just enough to be trapped by a flash of white from his upper front teeth.
“McCoy would be sleeping,” Jim whispered, as his right hand let go of the mound of flesh it clung to. “I’d slowly—very slowly, very quietly make my way over to you.” As he spoke, he trailed over to the top of Spock’s crack, where he started to massage in small circles with his middle finger.
“I’d carefully undo your trousers—pull them and your briefs down only enough to barely expose you.” The finger massaging Spock’s skin pressed in a little harder then, and slowly slipped into the cleft, traveling downward at an agonizing pace. “Then I’d turn you over.”
Spock’s tongue came out to lick his lips. He stared at the glass door that had long ago become opaque from the heat of the water pouring from the shower head. When Jim paused his descent and Spock didn’t hear anything further, all reason contained within him was torn away. Shakily, he asked, “In—indeed?”
“Yeah,” Jim breathed, as his left hand began kneading the cheek it held—as if to threaten that he’d let go of it and retreat, deny Spock of the touch his body language begged for. “I’d stuff my fingers in your mouth to get them nice and wet…”
“Then…?” Spock’s voice was nearly inaudible as he hung on the edge, unsure if Jim would continue to tease him or finally relieve the burning tension in his loins.
The moment continued to hang, heavy with uncertainty and terribly aching need. Spock kept his attention glued to the same place and his parted lips closed long enough for him to swallow.
Just as it began to seem hopeless and that Jim would forever have him dangling there, it happened. Spock’s eyes slightly squinted and he sucked in a quick breath through gritted teeth at the feeling of Jim beginning to gently prod against his hole.
“I’d start fingering you.” It was spoken so nonchalantly at first, as if Jim didn’t care that he was teasing Spock—like he didn’t recognize the agony he was causing. But his voice took on a more sensual tone when he quietly added, “Just like this.”
The pad of Jim’s middle finger circled the rim of his opening and stroked over it twice, before lining up with the tiny entrance and pushing gently—just until the tip of it was accepted.
A broken exhale fell from Spock’s mouth and he unconsciously squeezed on the digit that barely entered him. His grasp on their rods tightened; they were both hard as rocks now, veiny columns of flesh straining at full salute and made slippery by delicate pearls of jizz that had escaped in pre-orgasmic excitement. Spock thought about Jim’s cock pushing against his entrance instead and had to swallow anew as he felt his face grow even hotter.
“Imagine what would happen, Spock,” Jim continued, hoarsely now as he very gently began moving the tip of his finger in a tiny circular motion. “Imagine McCoy waking up at that moment with my fingers buried deep inside of you.”
A tiny gasp forced its way through Spock’s lips without his even meaning for it to happen. Jim’s left hand abandoned the cheek it had been pulling to the side and immediately came up to the back of Spock’s head. He had only a moment to appreciate the dark flush that had spread clear across his bondmate’s face before forcefully drawing their foreheads together.
“Imagine it,” he repeated, in a louder voice, the fingers buried in that black hair gently massaging against Spock’s scalp. The tugging on his cock was obviously beginning to reach a critical stage, making him aggressively fight to finish his story. “Because I would start eating you out anyway, no matter who was looking at us. I’d have you moaning and begging for more. Isn’t that what you want, Spock?” Jim pulled tightly on the back of Spock’s head again and demanded roughly, “Isn’t it?”
“Jim!” Spock choked out and suddenly released the hold he had on their cocks. Immediately, both hands were grasping to Jim’s shoulders and shoving him back in utter desperation. And then Spock was turning around to face the shower wall, one side of his hot face against the cold tile. He closed his eyes and pushed his hips backward towards Jim, offering himself. His lips hung open as he took labored breaths and waited while a familiar flame engulfed him.
Desire blazed within Spock—a wild inferno that could only be quenched by the touch of Jim’s hands and mind. The vastness of the universe was temporarily lost to him, and all that mattered suddenly was being able to feel the grace of Jim’s presence, soothing the torrent of dire need that raged and churned violently within him.
Jim’s ministrations, coupled by the stimulating way in which he spoke that mortifying imaginary scenario, had effectively brought Spock the closest he had ever been to experiencing physical symptoms of pon farr, without actually being consumed by the time. His blood wouldn’t burn again for another four years, but when it did, the bodily sensations he would experience would bring back memories of this ship’s night, when he stood desperate and panting in a shower cubicle, presenting himself to Jim.
A shudder wracked Spock’s body as he felt the tip of Jim’s cock tease his entrance by very deliberately rubbing against it over and over. Distracted by that, the pair of lips suddenly pushing against his shoulder, accompanied by a large hand appearing flat against the wall near his face, almost caught Spock off guard as Jim pressed into him.
Jim’s mouth opened and he gently nipped at the supple skin, pulling away with a loud kiss. “Like this, Spock?” he drawled again just above a whisper, his voice somehow dropping even deeper as his cock continued to rub against the tiny hole. “This is how you want me to fuck you?”
Those words were utterly incendiary—each carrying with it a gallon of extra fuel that doused and fed the wildfire rampaging within Spock to the point he actually shivered. Such lascivious language was beyond improper; no Vulcan would ever speak in that way, even while engulfed in their time of madness. This manner of talk was beyond vulgar and entirely rife with raw emotion; it stood a stark contrast to everything logic-embracing Vulcan society stood for...and yet, despite all that, it plunged Spock into an even heightened state of arousal.
What would his fellow colleagues think if they knew he was a trembling mess from hearing such vile words as he was pinned against a shower wall, grinding dry against Jim in response with reckless abandon? Such shame! But he was too far gone, too past the point of stopping to collect himself.
Jim’s teeth gently scraped against the same shoulder, and brought Spock’s attention back to that dire question. His half-lidded eyes closed, and his mouth fell open for just a moment to rasp out a nearly desperate, “Yes.” It closed immediately after, and he swallowed hard. Keeping his temple pressed to the wall, he slid down more, pushing himself even further into Jim’s hips. His spine now formed an eloquent curve, and as beautiful as it may have looked, it was also extremely uncomfortable.
Spock found himself uncaring of that at the moment, however.
“Oh, Spock,” Jim groaned as his lips ceased the barrage of kissing and sucking, and his hand on the wall turned into a tight fist. His cock became trapped between both flushed cheeks from the change in Spock’s position, and the head now pointed angrily toward the ceiling, colored a deep pink.
The desire soaring within Jim was urging him to quickly retrieve the bottle of slick from the sink cabinet and start fucking Spock until their throats were sore from screaming. However, it was too soon—too quick. Like Spock, Jim had readied himself for a dry spell and mentally prepared for the denial of this company. But now that the ambrosia was laid before him much earlier than expected, he was going to make damn sure that they would both enjoy it for as long as they could.
Every single touch, taste, and feeling was going to count. That meant they would both be comfortable, and after letting his hazel eyes drift down the awkward arc of Spock’s spine, Jim decided the first step to achieving that was getting out of this tight shower so they could actually move.
“What if I told you I had a better idea? Come with me.”
‘No,’ Spock thought, his eyes squeezing shut. His backside followed Jim’s retreating hips in protest, but it wasn’t long until Jim’s cock was gone…ripped away from him like it was the very air in his lungs. There was a flash of madness that sparked its way across Spock’s mind, leaving him two moments away from verbally begging. His mouth opened and—
Jim spoke before that happened. “Come on,” he urged quietly, latching onto one of Spock’s wrists and pulling gently. His next sentence applied the balm to Spock’s desperation. “Let me take care of you.”
Spock’s cheek finally pulled free from the wall and he stood, a blushing mess. Jim felt his breath hitch at the sight of that glistening body and the black hair in total disarray. Spock appeared astoundingly debauched already, and he hadn’t even been fucked.
With that thought, Jim loudly commanded, “Shower off.” The stream of water was immediately cut and the glass door began retracting to the inside of one wall, freeing them from the confines which had trapped them.
Immediately, the colder air rushed in—a welcome change to a space that had quickly become too small and heated. Jim took in a deep, refreshing breath and led Spock out into the open space of their bathroom.
The size of the room wasn’t particularly impressive; while the Enterprise itself was huge, luxury suites weren’t exactly necessary on exploratory vessels. However, it was big enough for two people to comfortably move around and get ready in, and built with pleasing aesthetic in mind. The walls were gray with mint green highlights, complemented by the silver of the no-smudge steel hardware. A large, fogless rectangular mirror hung above the dual sinks, and Spock’s reflection was the first thing he saw directly across from him.
Spock quickly averted his eyes, not caring much to see his own body in either its present state of nudity or arousal, and instead focused on Jim. Jim’s hand lifted, but rather than reaching for the linens neatly folded on a nearby shelf, he motioned in the direction of the lengthy sink countertop.
“Go arrange yourself in a way that makes you comfortable,” he spoke, and released Spock’s wrist.
Licking his lips, Spock immediately did as he was told. He stalked up to the counter and paused for a mere second before he leaned forward, bending over and making his chest parallel with the surface. He supported himself on his elbows and stayed low, curving his back slightly so that his ass raised into the air a little higher.
His feet slipped apart across the light gray floor, just enough to grant Jim an utterly flawless view of not only his impossibly tight hole but the heavy ballsack and cock that hung helplessly between his legs. With perfect timing, a tiny drop of precome oozed out and fell to the tiles below him.
Being in such a provocative and compromising position by his own doing sent Spock’s head into an even deeper lust-addled haze. His abdominal muscles constricted against the knot in his groin, and his hole squeezed tight in reaction before relaxing again. The cheeks on his face hot, he peered over his shoulder.
“…Is this adequate?”
Gone was that clinical, collected tone he had often wrapped his words in; it had no hope of survival in this situation that compelled his voice into a sultry, deep baritone.
Their eyes met and in the instant when Jim saw that unreserved look dripping with dual lust and mortification, he knew neither of them could wait another second. The thought of any further delay was suddenly unthinkable as his breaths fell heavy at the beautiful sight laid before him.
“Perfect,” Jim rasped out, closing the space that separated them. His mouth fell open as he lowered to his knees, his eyes drinking in as much detail as they possibly could being this close to paradise. He suddenly spoke, clearly issuing a command and not a request. “Spread yourself for me.”
A slender hand slipped over skin still wet from the shower and latched onto one cheek, pulling it aside and stretching the taut hole open. Jim scraped his front teeth on his lower lip and slapped his palm down on the other neglected mound, pushing it aside and spreading Spock as far as he would comfortably go. His pointer finger extended and lightly stroked over the dark olive orifice until he could simply just observe no longer.
The digit returned to where it had come from, and driven by a fresh surge of pure lust, Jim dove right in to replace it. He crushed his lips against Spock, tongue coming out and pressing right against the impossibly tiny opening, dragging the tip over it and back down before drawing a full circle around the rim. The gasp and deep inhale he could hear in response only inspired him more, and Jim’s eyes fell closed, his jaw moving up and down as he began eating Spock out fervidly.
He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, unpredictably alternating between quickly flicking over the entrance or flattening against it in a slower, more sensual lapping motion. His face moved from side-to-side, eyes shut as he lost himself in the total bliss of this act, which was, admittedly, ridiculously stimulating for him. Jim invariably took special pride in the fact that no one had ever done this to Spock before he had—that he had been the one to not only introduce Spock to what it felt like to be pleasured by an eager tongue, but to also convince him into loving it.
Spock would never willingly admit that out loud, but his own body betrayed his silence as it always did: by pushing back harder against Jim’s face, and eliciting the soft moans he fought to repress. They both knew it was forever hopeless to resist.
After some time, the same impassioned ministrations directed at that enticing orifice in the most lewd kiss he knew caused Jim’s jaw to tire. He wasn’t done; far from it, in fact, but he did need a quick break. Instead of immediately withdrawing however, he deliberately dragged his lower lip across the opening and then back down one final time before sitting back on his heels, panting and admiring his work.
The cold air rushed in, prickling at Jim’s mouth and cheeks now covered in his own saliva—the very same that made Spock’s hole and the space around it glisten in the hazy overhead lighting. He licked his lips as he attempted to catch his breath, satisfied in seeing the way the tiny orifice squeezed and released when the chill apparently made itself known to it as well.
Jim kneaded both fleshy mounds and ran his thumbs between them half-heartedly before leaning back in. His lips opened and pressed in firmly, sucking hard before his tongue poked back out. It lapped at the meaty rim, and then pushed through the muscle, beginning to fuck it open. Some broken, muffled sound came from above the counter after the breach and Jim hummed in response, feeling his voice vibrating against the flesh he was ardently worshipping.
His hands finally released the cheeks they’d been holding and pushed Spock’s own away as he buried his face between them, continuing to spear in and out with his tongue. Jim’s palms fell upon the curve of slender Vulcan calves, his digits splaying out as he took hold of them tightly to balance himself from the way Spock was now moving in tiny back and forth motions, riding him.
The small sounds—those quick exhales and tiny muted exclamations of, “ah!”—only heightened the titillation in Jim’s mind to an immeasurable, astronomical level. Reserved and reticent, Spock was no loud moaner but the fact that he couldn’t remain silent during these times was more telling than anything.
Jim’s awareness that he was capable of doing this to Spock was indescribably arousing—even today, decades after they’d begun sharing a bed. He knew without even looking, that stiff, logical, proper Spock was now blushing heavier than ever and hiding his face in his shoulder. As he rolled his hips in desperation for more of the feeling only Jim could give him, it became too much to take.
It was enough, all of this—the outright salacious act, the filthy thoughts flashing across his mind, the sounds he could hear in response to his ministrations—to make Jim lightheaded.
With his jaw and tongue aching and a sudden frantic need to breathe starting to overwhelm him, Jim finally broke away from the quivering hole he had so attentively pleasured—dragging a final lick around it before letting his forehead fall against one asscheek and heaving for air.
“Holy shit,” he whispered to himself, his eyes fluttering open and mouth hanging for a moment. When Jim felt Spock stir, one of his hands released the calf it had latched to and lifted to take the jade cock— wet again with fresh precome and as painfully hard as his own. He felt the leg his other hand still grasped go rigid in response as Spock’s body tensed.
“Jim, please,” Spock rasped out, finally unable to keep the words at bay any longer. It was too much. He was already so aroused and near release after what he had just experienced, and Jim’s touch was now pushing him dangerously close to the point of no return.
Attempting to take matters into his own hands to prevent that, Spock began pushing himself up but the hand that had been on his leg let go and reappeared dead center on his back, stopping him in place.
A choppy exhale escaped Jim’s lips as he abandoned the tumid shaft.
“I know, I know,” Jim offered breathlessly in sympathy as he slowly stood, running his knuckles and the back of his digits against Spock’s heavy, swollen sack. “I can’t wait either.” His fingertips trailed up the smooth perineum until the pad of his thumb pressed against the opening and stroked across it.
When he was finally completely on his feet, their eyes met. Spock’s jaw was pressed against his shoulder as he peered over it, his hands balled into tight fists upon the countertop. There was a hint of raw desperation in the look he was giving Jim, the space between his lashes full of need and blown so wide that his eyes were nearly entirely black.
“Look at you,” Jim whispered as he leaned over and pressed a kiss deliberately to Spock’s uppermost psi point. “You’re doing so well.” Spock’s eyes squinted a little and quickly averted from Jim’s, the blush stained across his face and ears deepening even further from such praise.
Jim straightened then, reaching into the nearby cabinet beside the mirror and procuring a bottle of clear fluid. He continued stroking the entrance still wet from his tongue, and brought the item to his lips. The rim of the cap caught against his bottom teeth and he pulled the bottle down, flipping it open.
“Soon, Spock,” Jim muttered softly, flipping the small container upside down to drizzle a generous amount of slick right over the tiny hole he was massaging and then his hand. “Really, really soon. Just hang in there for me.”
With a copious amount of lubrication now at his disposal, Jim pressed the pad of his middle finger against Spock and slowly pushed—watched with pure desire and remarkable patience as the first and then second muscles relaxed and expanded around it, allowing him entry. He pushed out another broken exhale as Spock’s body eventually pulled the length inside, and then remained still so that he could adjust to the invasion. Jim leaned in, his tongue flicking at the rim clenching to his digit, and was rewarded with another gasp.
He began to retract his finger slowly, drawing back until it slipped completely out. Pausing to stroke over the opening again, Jim added even more slick before pushing back in and finding less resistance this time. Carefully reading the signs from Spock’s body, he began fingering him, starting with gentle strokes and steadily building up to quicker, more intense movements.
His digit curved and brushed against that hypersensitive bundle of nerves buried deep within, earning him more delightful muffled feedback and another squeeze.
Jim hummed in appreciation, taking in this magnificent view before him. He licked his lips and let his pointer finger press against the opening. “Ready for more?”
The response came in another small, barely audible whisper. “Yes.”
As he began gently inserting the second digit, Jim bent forward so that his upper body was beside Spock’s on the countertop. His lips slightly parted at the view of stiff shoulders, hands still in fists, closed eyes, a taut mouth... Tension from needing to maintain self-control and blatant desire were written across the Vulcan features and clearly telling of how overwhelming it all was—so much that Spock’s cheek was still pressed into that one shoulder; he made no move to look at Jim.
“Spock,” Jim rasped out, reaching with his free hand and gently placing the pads of his fingertips on the far side of his chin. He carefully coaxed Spock’s face in his direction.
When Spock’s lashes fluttered open and their eyes met, Jim could stand only one moment longer of drowning in the desire welled between them before he crushed their mouths together. His hand slipped up to cup the narrow cheek and he opened his lips, his tongue plunging forward against Spock’s.
Upon meeting, Spock undoubtedly tasted himself as their tongues danced together fervently, small hums and large exhales through the nose falling from them both as Jim’s fingers continued their skilled work. A third digit joined the other two then and their kiss broke, leaving them both panting. Jim’s lips fell upon Spock’s forehead and he kept them there, his eyes remaining closed while he waited with unshakable patience for the entrance to adjust to the addition of even more.
“So tight,” he whispered, his nose buried in Spock’s damp black hair and hand still protectively cupping his cheek. Jim scissored experimentally and when he received a favorable response, he began twisting his hand while comfortably sliding all three fingers in and out together. “I can’t wait…” Jim began nuzzling against him and dragging his lips along the smooth skin in small motions. “…can’t wait to get inside of you.”
Spock nodded against him quickly twice, his response coming out with a heavy breath. “Yes.”
Jim pressed a long kiss unto Spock’s forehead, and then finally righted himself. He licked his lips as he deliberately stroked against the place that made Spock buck against him, and then watched—watched as his large digits slipped out of what had started as a too-small entrance.
“Here, come up for a second,” Jim instructed with a soft tap on Spock’s hip, and then quickly turned to reach for another pair of towels hanging on a hook. When he faced Spock again, he found him picking up the bottle of slick and sinking to his knees on the floor before him.
“Planning to—ahh!” Jim shuddered when he felt the base of his cock taken in one hand and a hot tongue come out to lap up the pearls of precome which had begun slowly moving down his shaft. He tossed the towels on the countertop and made quick work of arranging them, giving extra padding to the surface so Spock would be comfortable leaning on it.
Jim’s hands fisted the soft material as he felt lips close around his dick. His eyes shut tightly and mouth fell open with a groan. “Spock… Spock!” A throaty protest erupted from deep within him when he felt himself falter toward the edge, jerking backward and placing a palm lovingly into the sleek hair.
Their eyes met and a shiver wracked Jim once more. “You’re gonna make me come already,” he softly said, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “You’re too good at this.”
“I have learned from the best,” Spock replied plainly, but the heated look he wore spoke much louder than any words could.
Jim watched as Spock flipped the bottle of lubricant over and poured plenty into his palm. He closed the cap and placed it to the side before taking the painfully hard human cock in his fist. A pleased sound escaped Jim as he felt his shaft massaged slowly, but only enough to be generously anointed.
And then Spock was standing again—turning and leaning back over the soft linens now laid out on the counter, presenting himself once more...the fruits of their laborious foreplay finally on perfect display and ready to be claimed in the form of one well-prepared hole.
With a firm grasp on his cock, Jim immediately stepped between Spock’s spread legs. His other hand took the nearest cheek and pushed it aside, giving him perfectly clear access to rub the head of his dick against the opening.
“Ready?” he asked.
Spock’s hands clenched onto the far edges of the fluffy white towels supporting his chest and he simply nodded, closing his eyes and then pressing back against Jim for good measure.
And with that, Jim drew in a deep breath and began to push forward. His advance was slow and steady, careful and gentle—mindful as ever to allow Spock’s body to take him in, instead of forcing him to take it. After several moments of both tense patience and cautious progress, the tiny opening expanded enough and his head sunk in.
Finally. The breath Jim had started holding at some point expelled with a groan, and though he wanted nothing more than to fall deeper into the paradise only his bondmate could provide, he remained completely still. He let go of his cock and the cheek he had pulled to the side, relocating both hands to Spock’s thin waist. They docked to it momentarily, and then began giving tender rubs to the smooth skin, wandering down to his narrow hips and back up.
Spock’s fists tightly gripping the linens didn’t go unnoticed. His face was low, chin against the material with his eyes still closed. The reflection in the mirror showed only part of his expression as steady but significant breaths were being taken between his teeth.
“Easy,” Jim assured softly, sending a pulse of love over their bond as he continued to massage him. “It’s all you.”
It certainly wasn’t that Spock needed the reminder that Jim wanted him to have control and set the pace to his comfort now, because it had always happened this way. Jim had constantly been tolerant and long-suffering for as much time that was needed for the adjustment. He continued running his hands over Spock’s back, the slick left on them from earlier making his long strokes more soothing.
He felt Spock clench on him and then slowly push backward. Jim wet his lips and looked down, observing his cock disappearing little-by-little into the blissful heat, until he was completely taken inside. They both exhaled at the moment Spock was fully impaled, his asscheeks flush against Jim’s hips.
A heavy groan was pulled from somewhere deep within Jim. “You feel so good, ugh...”
Resisting the overwhelming urge to begin bucking, Jim moaned again and savored the feeling of Spock slowly moving on him, adjusting to being spread by his thick shaft. It was worth it; Jim knew his endurance would be rewarded very soon.
He closed his eyes, latched onto that waist, and just lost himself in the sensations of the rhythm steadily picking up—of the small sounds Spock was beginning to make. And when the first slap of flesh hitting flesh rang out, he knew it was finally time to take over and really get things started.
Jim’s grasp tightened on Spock as he began rolling his hips forward. He started slowly, paying attention to how Spock reacted and when he found him meeting his thrusts, he quickly rose to a fast pace. Heavy breaths began falling from his lips as he speared his cock into the hot recesses of that perfect body in front of him. Before long, Jim was vocally expressing his heightening pleasure, and giving Spock a pounding that was sending him straight into a dimension which existed somewhere between reality and paradise.
Spock felt so fucking amazing. He was so tight, so hot, so utterly perfect. The way his body reacted to Jim’s cock inside of him coupled with the feeling of his presence and the pleasure reverberating across their bond was indescribable. There were literally no combination of words in any language that could do justice to what this did to Jim—and the only thing his mind could manage now was one demand: more.
At that moment, Jim pulled back so far that he completely dislodged himself—and took Spock with him. The soft material he had been leaning on slipped along the surface, causing Spock to lose both his balance and positioning. With a gasp, he was yanked back and away from the counter while still bending forward. The sides of his torso were quickly caught by Jim’s hands, steadying and preventing him from smacking his face on the edge.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s so good,” Jim chanted breathlessly, and then guided Spock back toward the surface, taking a quick moment to adjust the towels that were half off the ledge. “Here, like this…” His hand cupped the back of Spock’s left leg and coaxed it into lifting.
Spread wide open now, with one knee resting on the flat top along with his hands for better control, the side of Spock’s face touched the mirror and his mouth fell open at the deeper level of penetration this position offered him. Jim grabbed onto his ankle and opposite hip, making quick work of returning to the punishing pace he had set earlier.
“God, Spock!” he exclaimed, fucking him so hard that he felt himself go lightheaded with pleasure once more. One of Spock’s hands was thrown against the glass, his digits flexing as if trying to dig his nails into the surface before straightening again. He took the pounding with no resistance, pain, or protest—the small moans leaving his mouth and the pleasure throbbing across their link both indicating just how much he actually loved the roughness.
It was no surprise, though. Jim had known he could handle it since a long, long time ago. He released Spock’s ankle and grabbed tightly to an asscheek, pulling it far aside again and watching at how that pretty hole stretched perfectly taut around his cock. The rim moved with his motions, and thinking about how he managed to shove his dick inside of what was once much too tiny sent him to an entirely different level of bliss.
Jim’s rhythm slowed, opting instead to send his hips forward at a slower pace but with harder thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper into the overwhelming heat until he decided it was time for a change. With a final hard drive forward, he withdrew and took hold of Spock’s arm, gently pulling him to stand.
When Spock turned to him, their lips met and Jim gently backed him against the counter. He slid Spock upon it until he had him sitting on the surface, and then Jim pulled both of his legs up, docking them at his hips. Finally face-to-face when his cock reentered, Jim kissed him once more.
“This okay?” he murmured over a heavy breath, their mouths still touching.
Spock’s body was at a curve, his head and shoulder blades now against the glass with his hips hanging off the padded edge, relying on Jim to keep him from falling. He panted and nodded, fisting the linens below him firmly.
“Touch yourself,” Jim whispered as he began rocking into him again. Spock’s eyes closed and he pushed back against the glass, unraveling his grasp from the material. Complying with the suggestion, he took his achingly hard shaft in hand and started pumping it. His mouth opened and he tossed his face to the side for a moment before turning it back to Jim and letting his lashes part.
Their eyes met.
Jim licked his lips, taking in the look of pure ecstasy that had transformed the features across Spock’s face, which were nearly always stoic and serious…but no longer.
And while seeing part of this beautiful reaction in the reflection had certainly been exciting, it was so much better, so much more meaningful head-on. After all, only Jim had the luxury and privilege of observing Spock this way, debauched and blushing…had the satisfaction of hearing the delightful small sounds leaving Spock’s thin lips as he was roughly fucked against their bathroom mirror.
No one else in the universe had such entitlement. No one else could see the way Spock’s mouth sometimes parted as he heaved for air, how his eyes—black with total lust—would flutter open for a moment and close again, how his upper teeth would barely bite down on his lower lip. No one else could know the intense fucking his body was capable of taking and how much he actually enjoyed it—how absolutely incredible and tight and perfect he felt. No one.
And those were secrets Jim would take with him until the very end. It was all for him, and he would indulge for the rest of his life.
Spock’s brows had knitted down and furrowed, a harsh whisper suddenly leaving his lips. “Jim!”
Moaning with each thrust, Jim continued smashing into Spock, his hands cupping the cheeks hanging off the surface. He watched those dark eyes snap shut, the fist working quicker and quicker and the pleasure they shared over the bond increasing as Spock was on a crash course straight to utter ecstasy.
The quiet, staccato sound of “ah!” repeated itself over and over until Jim felt Spock’s body beginning to tense. He immediately pulled out without any warning, the totally unpredictable action causing his bondmate’s eyes to snap open. Jim lifted his ass to the surface, still cradling it in his palms and lowered his mouth on Spock’s dick.
That was the thing that did it—earned him another stripe to decorate his pride with. He felt Spock’s hand shoot out and latch to his dark brown hair, digits entwining and pulling hard on the short locks with a groan. He bucked frantically, sending his cock into Jim’s mouth again and again and again until a strangled sound escaped his lips.
Jim remained still as Spock came in his mouth, waited while the orgasm violently tore through him and made every muscle in his body lock up. After feeling Spock spend himself, Jim slowly removed his lips, swallowing all of it and then lapping at the softening cock again to ensure he cleaned off every last drop. Above him, Spock shuddered and at last, released the grasp he had on his hair as his body went boneless.
Jim slipped his hands from underneath the cheeks he’d been cupping and ran his palm over Spock’s bangs, then down the side of his head. He kissed him, leaving Spock to taste himself once more.
With half-lidded eyes, Spock regarded him for a moment, basking in the afterglow. As he breathed heavily, he studied Jim and then began to shift around in attempt to remove himself from the countertop—assumedly to bring Jim to release in the same manner he had been.
“Meld us,” Jim offered breathlessly, stopping Spock’s movements and pressing their lips together again. He closed his eyes and bumped their noses together.
“Now?” Spock’s voice was soft, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Jim simply nodded and then drew back, opening his eyes. He took Spock’s hand and kissed it before bringing it to the side of his face and covering it with his own. His brows lifted and he nodded, quietly insisting, “Now.”
Spock’s eyes went half-lidded and his lips barely trembled for a moment while the warm palm cupping his knuckles slowly traveled down, deliberately brushing his sensitive skin. He positively soaked up the staggering amounts of adoration and lust that radiated through Jim’s touch, aware that these things would only be amplified when their minds became one—aware that that, in itself, had certain consequences which could very well leave himself incapacitated in a most pleasant way for the rest of the ship’s night.
There was nothing that Spock could deny Jim—not now, not ever. He would never ask for more than Spock could offer, and yet, time after time, Jim had given up so much that was dear to him in the blink of an eye.
Out of the goodness in his heart, Jim had taken Spock’s tightly clenched, calloused hands all those years ago and gingerly opened them…somehow managed to place an entire universe of love and acceptance between them. For reasons Spock could never ascertain, Jim had freely given his affection, his trust, his body, his ship, his son—risked and lost everything, only to offer him somewhere to finally belong.
And in that place, Spock was no longer too human or too Vulcan…no longer too logical or too different. Here, Spock was simply Spock. Despite his total nakedness, with no shields or veils to conceal his real identity, Jim still loved him. He was never troubled by Spock’s dual heritage, never asked him to choose one side or the other, and never desired him any other way than how he really was.
Even if there was no additional place in the galaxy where Spock could belong, knowing that he fit perfectly in Jim’s arms would always, always be enough. For some faulty logic, James Kirk had decided that he, an outcast with very little to offer in return, was worthy of all this. And for that, for all the things Jim had needlessly suffered for him, Spock adored him with every fiber of his being.
When Jim tenderly latched to his wrist, Spock’s fingertips slipped into a familiar pattern, claiming their rightful places over his bondmate’s meld points. He paused for a brief time, swallowing as the intensity of Jim’s emotions thrummed through the touch.
“Kashkau…” he spoke in a breathy whisper, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. “…wuhkuh eh…” Spock’s eyes closed. “…teretuhr.”
A tidal wave of emotion crashed into Spock’s consciousness, silver rivers overflowing into deep wells and chasms—filling them and drowning him in the fathomless ocean of Jim’s affection. It consumed him entirely, and he sunk in total surrender, wrapped in the comfort of Jim’s keen mind until Spock could no longer tell his own thoughts apart.
The feeling of oneness, of Jim’s mounting pleasure coupled with the warmth Spock was still experiencing from his climax, augmented into unbearable need that reignited them both from the lull in activity. Spock felt himself pulled from where he was placed, turned around, and bent back over the counter…felt Jim take his hand and wrap his fingers tightly around the faucet.
Spock complied with the order, his grasp tightening on the fixture. A lengthy groan that was both his own and not his own escaped his mouth as the sensation of penetrating and being penetrated overtook him. And then Jim was moving. Fast. Hard. His hands were firmly on Spock’s hips again, pushing and pulling with his motions—every single loud clap of flesh against flesh sending them both closer and closer and closer to the precipice.
Their hearts hammered to one rhythm of mutual ecstasy, their lips uttering sounds that neither would dare on their own. And somewhere, was the resounding echo of the thoughts that pulsated and intensified over their bond.
‘Oh, God, Oh, God, Spock!’
The thrusting became erratic, the euphoria growing insufferable, the grip on the faucet constricting until the knuckles went white, the hands grasping forcefully into the curves of boney hips with desperation…
And with a collective sob, they both went careening over the edge of the known universe, splash landing somewhere rife with nothing except an all-encompassing sense of euphoria.
Starlight exploded behind their eyes, blinding them both to anything other than the totality of orgasm as Jim began coming. The meld swept Spock with it, his rim clenching and unclenching rapidly with Jim’s seed spilling in several hefty shots, both riding the wave of the massive climax they equally shared.
They were each heaving for air and shuddering, deeply blushing their individual complementary hues. Jim’s forehead hit between Spock’s shoulders as he continued tossing his hips forward until his body trembled and a huge, broken breath pushed its way out of his lungs. His motions ceased and he released Spock’s hips, instead sliding his arms around the thin torso and embracing tightly. While the intense feeling of overstimulation washed over him, Jim’s eyes squeezed together and then relaxed with another better-controlled exhale.
Spock’s hand finally unclamped from around the fixture, loosely clinging to it as reality eased its way back into their minds and slowly returned their senses. The meld kept them tightly entwined, ribbons of affection, loyalty, and gratitude enveloping their one self until the blurred line of individuality began taking on better clarity. Spock’s mind gingerly slipped from Jim and Jim’s from Spock, their combined thoughts gradually becoming singular again.
Jim nuzzled against the soft skin, pursing his lips against it and planting a kiss before he unraveled his arms and righted himself with a groan. He reached down to push one cheek aside, observing his softening cock leaving the orifice he had loved so emphatically. A small trail of white come followed.
“We need another shower,” Jim declared amusedly, lifting his forearm and wiping the sweat from his brow.
Spock braced himself on the counter, pushing up slowly. As he did, the seed buried within him began the slow and uncomfortable process of making its way out of him. He resisted the urge to squirm from the feeling and agreed. “Indeed.”
When Spock faced him and their eyes met, Jim gave him a mischievous grin. Mission accomplished. Spock looked so well-fucked with his bangs askew and skin glowing a healthy shade. Reaching up to the black hair, Jim brushed through it to straighten it out and then took Spock’s hand.
“Let’s make this quick.”
He led Spock back across the space and into the cubicle; with a verbal command, the glass door slid closed and the water kicked on. They stood chest-to-chest beneath the stream from the shower head, the heat spilling down on them only increasing their mutual state of relaxation. Spock’s eyes were shut, his breaths calm.
A smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s lips and he reached for the soap, beginning to lather his palms up when Spock’s lashes parted. He raised his hand to mirror Jim’s action, but was stopped.
“Allow me,” Jim offered, beginning to massage the soap into Spock’s pliant body.
“—unnecessary,” Jim finished for him with a small laugh. He nodded. “Yes, Mister Spock, I know. But I enjoy it, so just let it happen.”
It would be illogical to offer dispute, especially when Jim’s touch was so soothing and he would only insist on continuing the action anyway. Spock’s eyes fell closed and he leaned back into the tiles, soaking in the pleasantries of Jim’s caresses and the gentle kisses bestowed upon his neck and jaw.
Once the soap was washed off Spock’s body and he was thoroughly clean, Jim quickly did the same for himself with not even a fraction of the tenderness.
“Shower off. Engage drier.”
Comfortably warm air blew down from the ceiling to remove excess water from them and the stall. The cycle finished and the door retracted again. This time, the colder air rushing in wasn’t so pleasant and Jim was fast with grabbing a folded towel, handing it to Spock.
He took his own and then they dried themselves off completely. The linens, including the two that had been left between the sinks, were deposited in the laundry and they finally exited the bathroom. The light dimmed to darkness and the door slid shut behind them.
The design of the Enterprise-A’s living quarters was much more extravagant than the original ship’s refit. Their bedroom had been sectioned off from the rest of the space, giving them a small, cozy retreat in which to retire. Spock led the way, walking briskly through the sliding door which revealed their double bed that was surrounded by storage compartments painted chocolate brown. A massive window running from wall to wall and nearly the entire length from the headboard to the ceiling made for an impressive backdrop of distant glittering stars.
Just as he was about to order the closet door opened, Jim stepped up behind him and laid his hands on Spock’s arms, rubbing them vigorously to generate warmth.
“Can I bribe you into sleeping naked, Science Officer?”
“Bribery, Captain?” Spock questioned, a brow raising. His chin touched his shoulder when he turned his face to the side. “Most unethical.”
A laugh huffed its way out of Jim’s mouth and he slipped away from Spock, moving toward their bed and activating the heat control that would warm the mattress. “I could make that an order. That would be unethical.” He climbed into bed and slipped beneath the plushy covers, eliciting a deep sigh when his head hit the pillow. “But, as always, I leave it up to your good judgement, Mister Spock.”
Spock’s mouth twitched and he made his way to his side of the mattress. Jim immediately reached over with a warm smile, and pulled back the blankets to make it easier for him to slide in. On his side, Spock shifted right up to the heat of his bondmate’s body while Jim covered him, fussing to make sure he was tightly tucked in to prevent cold air from entering once they slept. He finally placed the back of his fingers into the hair above a pointed ear and stroked gently.
Jim continued to caress him lovingly, his eyes softening as he gazed into Spock’s, before commanding, “Lights off.”
The room dimmed until the only illumination was the soft glowing from the Enterprise’s exterior. Jim adjusted himself so their foreheads touched.
“No more friends on shore leave, Spock,” he said with a smile, bumping their noses together and running his fingers through the soft black hair.
“That would, indeed, be most agreeable, Jim.”
Jim’s hand crept down beneath the covers surrounding them and he pulled Spock closer. They had nine hours before the mission debriefing conference with Starfleet Command was scheduled to commence, and if he had it his way, he would be spending the majority of them right here.