A/N: Written in response to this prompt from the infamous kink meme: "So Jim's best buddy from childhood comes aboard the Enterprise (as a passenger or crewmember or whatever) and everyone loves him. Except Spock.
Turns out that the best buddy is actually a jerk who's taken the hobby of molesting/groping/making lewd passes at Spock whenever he can. At first the crew takes it as jokes and laughs at it, but sooner or later they realize that it isn't all fun and games anymore. And Spock doesn't do anything because he (insert reason here). So it's up to the crew to decide on whether or not they should tell Jim and how."

Warnings!!! The story will contain implications of Dub/Non-con, also exposure to insecure!Spock is eminent. Enter at own risk!


Nothing but the rough surface of the wall before his eyes, his body pressed tightly against the bulkhead, legs spread apart, wrists held securely behind his back, Spock felt another wave of dizziness overcome him.

"This is the way I like you," a silky voice rasped in his ear at the same time as a rock-hard erection pressed against his ass again. Spock felt it twitching through the layers of clothing, which was mercifully still in place. "But I wonder..." the voice continued, pausing long enough for the sharp teeth to sink into the tender skin of Spock's earlobe, "...if you would look even better on your knees."

Spock closed his eyes, shuddering and trying desperately to remember how he managed to get into this situation in the first place.

~***~

Chapter 1

"Oh goddammit, Jim, will you shut up already?"

Kirk looked up from his plate with a half-confused, half-offended expression.

"I didn't even say anything," he pouted at his friend.

"You don't have to say anything, it's written all over you," McCoy grumbled, pushing a piece of potato around his plate. "We're all worried about the inspection, but you've taken it way too far, you know what I'm saying?"

"Indeed, captain," Spock supplied, surveying Kirk's face carefully. "The Enterprise is in perfect shape and I do not foresee any complications that might hinder our grades."

"Maybe not your grades," Kirk told him with a sour smile. "And not even the ship's." He glanced from his first officer to his CMO. "Don't you two get it? Starfleet didn't send this commissioner here to check if the decks are scraped. It's been one year since the Narada, and I'm not dead, and you guys haven't mutinied against me. This whole inspection is devised for one purpose only – to find a way to relieve me of command."

For a moment, both his officers merely looked at him. Predictably, McCoy was the first one to explode.

"Jim, that's just paranoid. Every ship in the fleet is inspected at one time or another. Every captain's performance is evaluated."

"Captain, I find myself forced to agree with Doctor McCoy," Spock said evenly. "During my tour with then Captain Pike, I have witnessed two similar inspections."

"Really," Kirk looked at him. "And how did Pike do?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow.

"Exemplary."

Kirk snorted humorlessly.

"Yeah. Somehow I doubt I'd be that lucky."

Spock actually frowned, his brows furrowed slightly making a short move to meet each other. Spock checked it in a second, but he still looked concerned.

"This has nothing to do with luck, Captain. The inspector will observe the normal operations on the ship and the interactions of the crew. It is an efficiency evaluation, not a game of chance. And we are, as you know, functioning at top efficiency."

"Thanks to you mostly," Kirk sighed, looking down. "And Scotty. I guess it counts that I managed to keep such capable officers with me, but..."

"Captain, I hardly believe that—"

"Oh, shut it, Spock," McCoy cut him off impatiently, rolling his eyes. "He knows he's a good captain, he just can't get enough of you telling him so. If you play at this game, we won't be done by tomorrow."

"Bones!" Kirk shot him a murderous look, blushing furiously. "That was uncalled for!"

"Was it?" The CMO's eyes glinted wickedly. "Next time I'll bring a mirror to show you how stupid you look hanging onto Spock's every word."

Kirk's blush became even more pronounced, but he obviously had recovered from the initial blow.

"I happen to value my first officer's opinion," he said with as much of cool dignity as he could muster. "And I'd never turn to Spock if I were in the mood to fish for compliments."

"Compliments are illogical," Spock interjected, watching the by-play with interest.

"You don't say," McCoy turned to him, actually laughing. "'Captain, your analysis of the situation was impeccably logical.' 'Captain, your solution appears to be unique.' 'Captain, you have demonstrated uncommon bravery.' Need I go on?"

Spock was looking at McCoy in a very calm, very steady manner, which for anyone else might have appeared as polite interest, but which his two dinner companions knew to be the Vulcan variation of a glare.

"Doctor, it is my duty as the first officer to evaluate the captain's performance," Spock said, with a not-so-veiled menace in his tone.

"Oh sure," McCoy snorted, ignoring the silent warning. "But let me tell you something, Mr. First Officer. Your precious Captain wouldn't be risking his neck for no reason half so willingly, if you failed to tell him how cute he was afterwards even once."

"Bones, that's enough," Kirk snapped quietly, but firmly. His eyes were trained on his CMO, pointedly avoiding looking at Spock. "If you have something to say to me, say it. But whatever petty vendetta you're on, leave Spock out of this."

McCoy turned back to him, glaring.

"Oh, I have something to say to both of you," he promised darkly. "You're worried about the inspection, Jim? Damn right, you should be. But it's not Engineering that'll get you in trouble, even if they do find Scotty's still. And it's not the science labs. It's my medical records. I don't think there'd been any two weeks straight throughout the whole year when either one of you wasn't dripping blood all over my sickbay."

"Hey, hey!" Kirk raised a hand defensively. "We're in a dangerous line of work, doctor."

"Really, Jim? I had no idea," McCoy drawled acidly. "It would have been far less dangerous if you, for one, stopped showing off trying to impress a cold-blooded Vulcan of all people."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, by all means, let me enlighten you. Does telling a Klingon he has no honor ring a bell? I gotta tell you, for all the sheer stupidity you'd shown before that, this was downright impressive. I only had to mend eight bones, come to think of it."

"That was a negotiations tactics and I admit—," Kirk added hastily, taking in McCoy's glare, "—not a very smart one. But it was a long time ago, Bones, I learned since then."

"That was three weeks ago, Jim!"

"Okay then, not so long ago, but I learned—"

"Doctor, you are seriously mistaken where the captain's motivation is concerned," Spock chimed in warily. "He is driven by the desire for the mission to result in success, not by personal interest."

McCoy whirled toward him so swiftly as if someone bit him on the ass.

"I could give you a piece of my mind about his desires," he growled menacingly. "But don't let me even start with you. Thanks to your pointy-eared smartass devil-may-care attitude, I've enriched my knowledge of poisonous plants, cold weapons, darts, bullets, fucking arrows, not to mention every possible variation of energy weapons – by means of extracting all this shit from your green-blooded hide or treating you for plasma burns!"

"I am pleased to be of service, doctor."

"The fuck you are! It's a good thing you keep this idiot out of all this, but why the fuck do you need to take it all yourself eludes me!"

"I assure you, doctor, I do not seek to inflict harm on myself."

"Could have fooled me," McCoy grumbled. "You think Jim's gonna like your pointy ears better if you're dead?"

Spock stiffened, glanced at the captain curtly and stood up.

"I see no reason to sit here and be insulted," he dropped coldly. "Captain, you will have the sections' efficiency report updates on your desk by eight-oh hundred tomorrow. I hope that meets with your approval."

"That'll be cool, Commander," Kirk nodded, looking at him somberly. "Dismissed."

Spock walked out of the mess without a backward glance. Kirk watched him go, then turned his very much not amused gaze at McCoy.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked, not even trying to mask his annoyance. "Bones, you can't push Spock like that."

"Why not?" McCoy challenged. "You think I'm doing this for fun, do you? I'm dead serious, Jim. I don't know what kind of sick game you two are playing, but anyone who'd look at my records would immediately get suspicious regarding your mental health."

"Bones, he lost a goddamned planet. I got promoted skipping like ten years of my career. We lost half the fleet – a lot of good people on Vulcan. We nearly lost Earth. That's a lot to deal with, don't you think?"

"I agree, Jim," McCoy nodded quietly. "It's a lot to deal with, but you and Spock aren't even trying. Most of the time you suppress it. Then, the first chance you got you both go kick ass and take names. That's not a coping mechanism. That's a goddamned route to getting yourselves killed."

"We're doing our job, Bones."

"I don't deny that. And as someone who knew you before this Narada mess, I gotta tell you, you've changed, Jim. You've changed a lot and in a good way. You're more responsible now, more mature. Still an idiot, mind you, but you know what I mean."

Kirk smiled at him faintly.

"I have a vague idea."

"Yes, well, my point is, Jim, you're taking a lot of unnecessary risks. And I was serious before, kid."

"I'm not trying to impress Spock," Kirk said.

"Jim," McCoy looked at him patiently. "It's me you're talking to, remember? I know you inside out. You all but fall all over yourself to impress him. What I don't know is why. Either you're competing with him 'cause of some stupid macho bravado thing, or you want to get into his pants."

"Bones! I—"

"I don't care," McCoy cut him off. "But take some advice from your goddamn doctor, Jim. If it's the former, grow the hell up. And if it's the latter, buy him flowers, read him Vulcan poetry, or learn to chew with your mouth closed. For all I know, that alone would do the trick."

"Why thanks," Kirk pushed his chair away from the table irritably. "That's the best advice I ever got about anything. Now, if you'll excuse me, doctor, I have a ship to make ready for an inspection."

"Don't overexert yourself," McCoy shot at his back. "I'm pretty sure whoever this inspector is, he'd prefer a ship's captain who's still actually breathing."

Kirk didn't deign to answer.

~***~

"Tell me you're nearly done," Kirk pleaded with his chief engineer.

Scotty looked around, taking in the havoc in the engine room for the first time, and grinned sheepishly.

"Not to worry, captain. She'll be all shipshape before ye can say 'twizzle.'"

"Twizzle," Kirk said experimentally, not even trying to guess what on earth it might mean.

The engine room unsurprisingly remained in the frightening state of creative chaos. Scotty shrugged.

"Might take a wee bit longer than that."

Kirk sighed.

"Scotty, the inspector will be here at 1200 tomorrow."

"And he's not gonna find a bolt outta place, captain. I promise, lad."

Kirk looked at him dubiously, but finally nodded. His frown didn't dissipate, though. As he looked over Scotty's diagrams and calculations, his expression was becoming steadily gloomier.

"Scotty," he started tentatively. "How many of these... modifications are approved by Starfleet?"

"Well, sir..."

"Or should I ask – are any of them approved?"

"Well, sir, it's like this," Scotty shrugged. "Mr. Spock's got all the paperwork lined up for these. And ye know him, knows his regs like I know my girl's tubes," he actually stroke the nearest bulkhead at that. Seeing Kirk's expression, he added, "If ye catch my drift, sir."

Kirk wondered briefly how long it had been since Scotty actually had real sex. Honestly, the guy seemed obsessed with the ship even more than Jim was. The question was at the tip of his tongue, but Kirk swallowed it back forcibly. First, it might cost him several teeth. And second, if Scotty asked him back, it might get awkward. Then, something else caught his attention.

"Spock helped you get the paperwork on all this?" He asked cautiously, making sure he heard right.

"Aye," Scotty nodded, grinning. "Dunno how I woulda done without him. It's not that it's illegal or anything, captain. Just new."

"Scotty, but there must be hundreds of things you rebuilt here," Kirk said in awe. "When did Spock manage to get it all done?"

His engineer looked mildly uncomfortable.

"Well, sir, mostly at night, sir. 'Twas just him and me here, and he's a bright lad. I dinna have to explain stuff to him, so it went pretty fast."

"I see," Kirk said, impressed and warmed up for some reason. "Well then, Scotty. Carry on."

"Aye, sir," Scotty grinned brightly, no doubt only too happy to get the captain out of his domain at last.

Kirk left the engineering deck in surprisingly good spirits. Not that he was all that surprised really. After all, Spock was nothing if not efficient, and while the circumstances of his ending up on Kirk's ship were not exactly conventional, Kirk had to admit that he could never wish for a better first.

Initially, he was apprehensive of accepting Spock. Something about his greater experience and knowledge of the inner workings of the service unnerved Kirk. He didn't think Spock could forgive him that easily for being relieved of command and exposed as emotionally compromised. Not that Kirk would have held it against him. He didn't think he'd forgive himself, either. Spock, to his surprise, got over it pretty quickly. Holding grudges was obviously illogical.

Smirking slightly, Kirk proceeded with his own pre-inspection inspection. Only to discover that Spock had been one step ahead of him all the way.

The maintenance department greeted the captain with the report on the ready. The same thing happened in communications, security, science (where it was presented by Spock's beta-shift lieutenant), and even medical, where Kirk got yelled at yet again by a very grumpy Bones. The captain stalked out of sickbay hurriedly, but inwardly he was pleased.

It was a little unnerving but also strangely comforting to know that his and Spock's minds functioned on the same wavelength so seamlessly. Spock covered all the bases Kirk was worried about, and quite a few the captain had forgotten. Kirk could see Spock's personal touch everywhere he looked. A promptly made correction here; a swift efficient intervention there. And all that was done with competence, tact, and a great deal of the impeccable fairness that distinguished his first officer.

Kirk went to bed with a grin on his face. He was still worried about the inspection. But it felt good to know that he had Spock to watch his back.

~***~

The next day, Kirk was the last one to enter the transporter room. He didn't have any problems with his dress-uniform, but he did take his time to go through the updates on the ship's status that Spock had dutifully transferred to his terminal. Not that Kirk believed something was amiss, but it gave him the distraction he needed. He couldn't remember ever being this nervous.

He never cared much for his grades. Not at school where everything was just too easy, and not even at the Academy where he had to make considerable effort to maintain his straight A status. Still, grades never seemed so important. But this, this was different.

The manner in which his ship would pass this inspection would be paramount in proving to all the skeptics in Starfleet that he did earn the captain's chair. His promotion was unprecedented, and there were a lot of people who thought that Starfleet Command was crazy to entrust someone like him with a ship. He and his crew had concluded many successful missions during this last year, but somehow for seasoned career officers who spent their whole lives to achieve his rank and position, that wasn't good enough. For them, Kirk's promotion was like a slap in the face, regardless of the circumstances.

It was strange and a little unfair, Kirk thought, that no one ever bugged Spock about his rank. Really, from a graduate to full commander in three years? It took Kirk's father eight years to make a full lieutenant, and his rise through the ranks was considered one of the swiftest in Starfleet history. Pike himself had been an officer for fifteen years before he first captained a vessel.

If Kirk didn't relieve Spock of command, the Vulcan would have made captain in three, and still Spock's head-spinning progress didn't bother anyone. Perhaps because he was a Vulcan, Kirk thought lamely, clasping the last of the fastenings on his silk jacket. Or maybe because Spock totally lacked ambition where command positions were concerned.

Kirk looked nervously at his own reflection in the mirror. He'd make this stick. His people had been working hard; young or no, they earned the right to sit in their chairs. He hadn't let them down yet and he wasn't about to start now. They were the best crew any captain could wish for. He was absurdly proud of them and was determined to prove to be worthy of them.

He grinned and winked at himself. He'd make that stubborn, tight-ass, loyal to the core Vulcan proud of him, too.

He made his way through the decks quickly, and in no time at all the doors to the transporter room opened before him. Kirk's breath momentarily caught as his eyes fell upon a tall lean figure clad in navy-blue silk.

Spock wore silk like no one else Kirk knew. He himself had always felt uncomfortable in his captain's gold during the formal functions, the slick material making him feel itchy and for some reason indecent. Spock wore the luxury material like he was born to do exactly that. The fabric clung to him like a second skin, accentuating his physique, flowing over the fine relief of muscles, deceptively thin, bringing to view the elegant shape of his body, leaving very little indeed to the imagination.

The pants of men's dress-uniform were mercifully black for everyone and definitely not made of silk. They were, however, unquestionably tighter than standard uniform pants. In Spock's case, that peculiarity served to remind everyone that he had fine slim hips, strong long legs and a butt that was impossible to ignore.

The first time Kirk saw Spock in his dress-uniform, he excused himself almost instantly and spent several minutes reminding himself how to breathe. The Starfleet uniform designer obviously intended to advertise its officers as much as possible in the most primitive and blunt way, and whoever he was, he had succeeded.

Ever since then Kirk had learned to give himself a moment or two to adjust to seeing his first in the outfit that screamed sex at anyone who looked. After all, he thought, it wasn't Spock's fault that he looked so fuck-me-now-against-the-wall hot in what Starfleet made him wear.

Kirk caught Spock's eye and stiffened for a moment, suspended in mid-motion. The dark blue color had a strange effect on Spock's eyes, making them lighter and brighter. Usually impenetrably dark, they were glowing now, almost sizzling.

Kirk swallowed, breaking eye contact hastily and glancing at Bones instead, barely giving Spock an acknowledgement.

"Why, Bones," the captain exclaimed with excessive gleefulness. "You look positively dashing!"

McCoy glowered at him and tugged at the tight collar unhappily.

"This goddamn thing is choking me," he complained for the hundredth time. "I hate dress-uniform."

"Regulations, doctor," Kirk smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll live." He turned to glance at Uhura. "And there's the heartbreaker," he gave her an appreciative once-over.

A year ago, a glance like that might have earned him a punch in the face. But by now, they were both long used to this ritual of him pretending to hit on her and her giving him a witty rebuff. She did look good in her little red dress, which somehow was even smaller than her usual uniform. She laughed good-naturally and stepped closer to him.

"You'll live, captain," she purred, lifting her hands to his neck and clasping the fastening he missed. "You know you look really pretty... for a farm boy."

Kirk snorted. Looking over her shoulder, he caught Spock's eye for a second and could have sworn the Vulcan was amused by the exchange.

"It's time, captain," Spock said, having made the last check with the transporter operator and joining the others.

"Very well," Kirk nodded, straightening up.

They formed a line, ready to greet the Starfleet official. Kirk found Spock standing at his usual place next to him and darted a worried look at him. Spock glanced back, and something in his eyes made Kirk realize that he wasn't in this alone. The Vulcan was just as apprehensive of the inspection as he was, only hiding it better. Instinctively, Kirk brushed Spock's wrist with the back of his hand lightly and gave him a crooked grin.

"It'll work," he muttered what was both a private joke and a reassurance.

The corners of Spock's lips curled upward ever so slightly, showing Kirk he remembered. Kirk's grin widened and he nodded back to Scotty.

"Energize."

Here it comes, Kirk thought watching the white cocoon of materialization. But when it was complete, depositing a somewhat bulky human with bright red hair on the transporter pad, Kirk couldn't stifle a gasp.

"Jake!"

The senior Starfleet official grinned from ear to ear, and the next moment Kirk nearly swept him off his feet in a crushing bear hug.

"Hey, Jimbo!" The man Kirk called Jake clapped his back enthusiastically. "Long time no see."

Behind his back, Spock and Uhura glanced at McCoy for an explanation, but the doctor only shrugged, telling them mutely he had no idea who the man was.

"You're the inspector?" Kirk blurted out with a laugh. "God, and here I was thinking we were doomed!"

"You are doomed," his friend gave him a mock glare. "And it's Commodore Stevens for you, captain."

"No shit," Jim chuckled, inspecting his insignia. "Promoted you that fast, did they? Well, good for you. Come, meet my officers."

Both of them finally stepped down from the platform, and Kirk introduced his senior staff one by one.

"My chief medical officer Leonard McCoy, communications officer Lieutenant Uhura, that geek over there is my chief engineer Montgomery Scott, and this is my first officer Commander Spock."

"Commodore," Spock inclined his head politely. "You honor us with your presence."

Stevens looked at him for a moment longer than he did at the others. Spock endured the scrutiny stoically, only elevating one eyebrow ever so slightly. Finally, Stevens grinned somewhat insolently.

"I'm sure it does. Well, Jim," he turned to Kirk once again. "I'll be staying for at least a month with you. Care to show me your lady?"

"No time like the present," Kirk grinned. "I'm sure you'll find everything in perfect shape."

"Oh yes," Stevens replied, his eyes lingering on Spock once again. "I already do."

And if Spock looked mildly uncomfortable at the veiled implication, nobody noticed.


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