Captain James T. Kirk sat in the captain's chair aboard the Starship Enterprise early one morning, being unable to sleep. The dreams had been plaguing him for weeks now, but he had no idea what brought them on or how to combat them. They weren't exactly… unpleasant. Not in the least. They were very inconvenient, though, especially if he remembered certain bits and pieces throughout the day. Then he'd have to excuse himself to his quarters and relieve some of the tension.
He currently had his thoughts under wraps, thinking more of the day's tasks than his unsettling thoughts during unconsciousness. In his mouth he was tonguing a sweet peppermint candy, letting the sugary, minty goodness dissolve on the strongest muscle in his body. The overall effect of the candy's taste was calming and cooling, letting him believe that there was a sudden gust of cool air rushing through his hair and across his heated flesh. He sighed contentedly at the sensation, sinking back further into his chair.
"Captain, Alpha shift starts in approximately thirty minutes. Do you wish for us to vacate now that you're here?" the helmsman asked.
"Huh?" Jim asked, snapping back to reality.
The helmsman – McKenna-something-or-other – chuckled softly. "Would you like me and the rest of this shift to leave for the day or wait until Alpha comes in?"
Jim waved his hand at the young man. "There hasn't been anything exciting happening for the past hour and a half and I doubt anything will before they come in. You guys can leave. Thank you, Helmsman…"
He could see the captain was having trouble remembering his name, so he filled it in for him. "McKenna, sir. Helmsman McKenna. And thank you, sir. Have a good day." He and the rest of the crew left and Jim was suddenly alone.
As he got up from his chair to stretch a bit, the Turbolift doors opened and his First Officer stepped out. Spock paused momentarily as he saw his captain up on the bridge so early before brushing the thought aside and taking his normal seat at his station. "Captain," he stated, running diagnostics on his computer. "You are up much earlier than usual."
Kirk was on edge, the object of his dreams having invaded his quiet time on the bridge. The fact that they were alone didn't make things any better. "A relevant observation, Mr. Spock," he said, his voice wavering a bit. "You are up much… on time."
"As is my attempt every morning, Captain," Spock said. He heard something crunching behind him and he turned to around to see Jim's jaw moving up and down as though chewing on something. "Captain, what are you eating?"
"Hmm? Oh, a peppermint candy…" He blew a breath out of his mouth, feeling the cool air pass his lips and inhaling the sweet flavor. His whole mouth was tingling now.
"A peppermint candy?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, haven't you ever had one?"
"I cannot say that I have ever had the experience of eating one, Captain." He turned back to his station but kept his attention on the captain.
"Oh, you've gotta try one, Spock." He rummaged through his pocket, placing one on the console in front of his First Officer. "They're like… an orgasm in your mouth." Spock cocked another eyebrow at this simile, apparently lightly amused. "I mean, well, they're really really good."
Spock picked up the candy, carefully removing the wrapper and settling the small disk-shaped object on his tongue. Immediately the cooling sensation washed over him as he closed his mouth, letting his saliva start to dissolve it. His face remained hard and stoic, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. This was the best candy he had ever tasted in his life. It was sweet, but not too sugary. And minty. That was the best part.
Jim watched Spock's eyes, grinning at the elation he found there. "I told you it was good," he quipped, sitting back down in his chair.
Spock swallowed, the cool sensation coating his throat and traveling to his stomach. The effect was very calming, he found. "I would not be averse to eating these candies in the future, Captain," he said, swallowing again.
The captain smirked, popping another one in his mouth. One of his dreams forced its way inside his mind then, and it took all his will-power not to imagine Spock standing there naked and erect, mouth open with the peppermint candy lodged between perfect teeth. He groaned, taking the peppermint out of his mouth and putting it back in its wrapper to save for later.
"Is something troubling you, Captain?" Spock asked, turning around when Kirk groaned.
"No, nothing," he said quickly. "Just a little kink in my back." He felt bad about lying to his First Officer – his friend – but he certainly couldn't tell him about the dreams. At least not now, he thought.
Spock stood up, though, and positioned himself behind Kirk's chair. "If I may, Captain?" He lowered his hands onto Jim's shoulders, massaging. The hot hands pressed and smoothed and rubbed and basically turned Jim to jelly under the ministrations. Well, I could get used to this, he thought.
Spock stepped back a few minutes later, removing his hands. "Is that sufficient, Captain?"
Jim straightened his back, and while it wasn't hurting him earlier, it felt one hundred percent better after Spock's mini-massage. "Ooh," he moaned, turning and cracking his spine. "That's nice." He looked up at Spock, who had a slight green tinge on his cheeks. "Is there any way I can get one of those off-duty?" he asked, leering.
The First Officer didn't seem to catch the innuendo and merely replied, "Of course, Captain. It is my duty to ensure your safety and comfort."
Jim smirked and opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off as the rest of the bridge crew arrived. He checked the chronometer: 0600 hours. Well, time flies, as they say.
"Good morning, Chekov." He grinned at the young Russian whiz-kid before turning to his helmsman. "And good morning to you, Sulu! How are you both on this lovely morning?"
Lieutenant Uhura glanced at Spock and then back at Jim. The captain was way too chipper for 0600 hours. "Captain, are you-"
Before she could get another word in edgewise, Jim turned to her with lightning speed and smiled brightly. "Nyota! What a pleasure it is to see you this morning!" He rushed over and embraced her, crushing her to his chest.
"Captain, that is most inappropriate and illogical," Spock chastised, hands clasped behind his back, stance rigid.
Jim released Uhura, much to her chagrin, and sat back in his chair. He cleared his throat loudly. "Sorry," he muttered. Everyone sat down slowly, not wanting to take their eyes off of their captain, afraid something had happened to him overnight. If only they knew…
When Alpha shift was over and their replacements entered the bridge, it was just past 1600 hours. Jim nodded to the "Filler Captain" and stepped into the Turbolift with Spock, as was their daily tradition. They made their way to the mess hall for dinner, each grabbing their favorite dishes and sitting at a table near the corner.
Foolishly, Jim felt as if he was in high school. He looked around at the different tables and noted that certain groups of people always ate together and usually had standards for each clique. Uhura sat at the table with all of her xenolinguistics friends – and there were a lot, Kirk noticed – and Scotty sat with the engineers.
Dr. Leonard McCoy plopped down next to Jim and shook him out of his staring. "What are you thinkin' about, Jim?" he asked, taking a bite out of a roll.
"Have you ever noticed how this mess hall resembles a high school cafeteria in the way we're all disbursed?" he asked, taking a bite of steak.
McCoy seemed to think about this for a second, taking a look around for himself. "Yeah," he finally concluded. "I can see it."
"Captain, if I may inquire: to what are you referring?" Spock asked politely.
"You see, in high school, there are usually groups of people that always hang out together. Cliques," he explained. "Not everyone in the clique is necessarily friends with each other, but they all share similar interests, so they tolerate the others. I was just observing that we have that very situation here in the mess hall."
"A logical observation, Captain; I see what you mean." He ate a spoonful of his Plomeek soup.
Jim grinned. "Damn right," he mumbled, stuffing another piece of meat in his mouth.
When they were finished with dinner, Jim decided to head to his quarters to get some work done, which was a rarity.
"Captain, are you certain you are feeling well?" Spock asked inside the Turbolift, also heading to his own quarters.
"I'm fine, Spock. Why do you ask?"
"I am merely concerned with your wellbeing, Captain," he said. "I could not help but notice, however, that you are going to be working on your night off. This is a rare occurrence and I thought your lack of sleep last night might be contributing to your odd behavior as of late."
"My 'odd behavior'?" He turned his nose up at Spock's statement. "What do you mean, Spock?"
"This morning on the bridge, Captain, you acted out-of-character."
"Hmm…" Kirk thought about it for a minute, stopping outside the door to his quarters. He hadn't even remembered getting off of the Turbolift. "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Spock. Thank you for your concern."
"Captain, it is my duty as First Officer to ensure-"
"-my safety and comfort, yeah," Kirk interrupted, waving his hand. "Again, thank you." He hesitated for a second before entering his Captain's code so the door would open. "How about a game of chess later, Spock? Let's say… oh, 2000 hours?"
Spock inclined his head a few inches. "I would not be averse to a game of chess with you, Captain. I shall see you at 2000 hours." He turned and walked down the hall to his quarters, and Kirk waited until he saw the lithe form disappear into the wall before retiring into his own room.
He threw his shoes and socks to the wall and started pacing back and forth, as was his tradition every night. The images invaded his brain in a maelstrom: two naked bodies pressed together hotly, moving against each other with sweaty friction. Jim's tongue traced the outline of a pointed ear, biting lightly at the tip. He reveled in the inhuman sounds coming from his partner, delighted in the physical reactions he was receiving.
He fisted his hands at his sides, knuckles turning white. Now was so not the time to be getting aroused. He sat at his desk, grabbing his PADD and getting caught up on some work. He was so engrossed in his task that once he realized his door had chimed three times Spock was already standing in the doorway.
"Captain," he stated tersely. "I chimed three times and yet you did not answer."
"I know. I'm sorry, Spock. I was a little too focused, I guess."
"Are you sure you are quite well, Jim?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jim stared at him for a long while. He had always wanted Spock to use his first name when they were off-duty, but he had never gotten his wish.
"Spock, I'm fine. Sit down so we can play chess."
"As you wish, Captain." He gracefully sat across the table from Kirk, who grabbed the 3-D chess board and set it up.
"Your move," Kirk said, and the game began.
It was a relatively silent game, with Spock making the occasional remark – "The movement of your rook to that particular location is illogical, Captain." – and Kirk retaliating – "Well, how do you explain what you did with your knight back there?" – before falling into a comfortable silence once more.
Two hours later they were still at it, neither one willing to give up. Kirk was muttering under his breath to himself, debating his next move. "If I move my bishop there, that's a check, but it gets taken by Spock's queen. But if I move my knight there, it leaves my king uncovered and unprotected…" Finally, he decided to move his bishop. "Check."
But Spock didn't move his queen to take the bishop; instead, he moved his rook and announced, "Checkmate."
Kirk was baffled. He had checked over every scenario, every possible move he could have made to prevent the checkmate from coming. "Damn it," he muttered. "Good game, Mr. Spock."
"I must say, Captain, your strategy has improved," he said, standing up. "It is becoming more difficult for me to predict your next move."
"Gee, thanks," Jim replied sarcastically.
"You are most welcome, Captain," Spock said.
Jim almost told him he was joking, but decided against it. He got up to stand next to Spock. "Spock?"
"I…" What am I doing? he thought furiously. "Never mind. Have a good night."
"Goodnight, Jim." He was two steps away from the door when he felt a hand on his wrist, pulling him back. "Captain, what-" He was cut off as a pair of lips crushed into his and a hand found itself in his black hair.
Kirk pulled back slightly, eyes half-lidded and breathing erratic. "God, Spock, I've wanted to do that for so long." His fingers threaded through Spock's silky hair as he licked his lips. Peppermint, he noted, smiling.
"Captain, your actions are illogical," Spock stated officially, hands clasped tightly behind his back.
"Spock, the only illogical thing is that I haven't done this a long time ago." He fisted his hands in the front of his Commander's uniform, pulling him closer. "I've been having dreams about you, Spock. Pleasant ones. Ones where we're doing much more than kissing." He yanked his First Officer down, pressing his lips to the other's once more.
He sighed happily, pulling back again. He stared into Spock's eyes, watched the emotions war with the logic. "Spock, if you want this as much as I do, you'll just give in. Stop trying to analyze everything so closely," he whispered, licking the shell of the pointy ear. He smirked when he felt a small shudder against his chest, knowing where it came from.
"It's Jim, Spock. Jim." He brought Spock back down and finally got a reaction from him.
And what a reaction it was!
Spock's hands reached up and tangled themselves in Jim's blonde hair, angling his head to gain better leverage. His hot tongue pushed its way past the captain's lips, dancing with the other. Jim groaned and let his hands fall away from the shirt to wrap around Spock's waist, pressing them even closer together.
After a few minutes Jim pulled back, panting. "Spock," he murmured, looking up at his First through his eyelashes. "Bed."
Spock raised an eyebrow in silent amusement. "That would be a logical course of action, Captain." He bent down and hoisted Jim in his arms, carrying him bridal-style to the bed before dumping him on top of the sheets. He removed his shirts and shoes before lying on top of Jim, covering his mouth with his own.
Jim moaned at the heat seeping through his own shirts and he desperately tried to take them off. Spock sensed this and grabbed the hems, lifting until they had to break their embrace to remove them completely. Jim wrapped his arms around Spock's waist and tugged, crushing their naked torsos together.
Spock's higher body temperature was making Jim's blood boil as it rushed to his groin. He bucked his hips and groaned at the contact, his uniform pants suddenly too tight and too uncomfortable. He reached down and practically ripped the zipper down, pushing the pants and underwear down his legs. He started rutting against Spock's still-clothed hips, reveling in the answering hardness grinding into his thigh.
Jim bent his head, licking and nibbling on Spock's neck and collarbone, leaving small green marks behind. "Spock," he panted, his breath ghosting over the sensitive ears. "Take your fucking pants off."
Spock growled, actually growled, before shoving his own pants off and onto the floor, his black socks still on. Jim smirked down at the green-tinted erection between Spock's legs before grasping it in his hand and stroking, eliciting another growl from his First Officer. "Jim," he stated warningly. "I must ask you to cease your actions at once." He reached down and grabbed Jim's hand, stilling it.
"Or else what?" Jim teased, stroking again.
In a flash, Spock had flipped Jim over, flattening him onto his stomach while his fingers invaded the captain's sensitive hole. He leaned down and whispered, "Or else I will be forced to become rough with you, Captain." Jim moaned at the pure sex in Spock's voice as those fingers hooked and brushed against the spot that made Jim blind with pleasure.
"Oh, God, Spock!" Jim arched off of the bed and pushed back against Spock's hand, which had rudely pulled away.
Spock conjured lube from Jim's bedside table and slathered his erection before easing inside. Jim flailed on the sheets, a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as Spock pushed in; he was a bit bigger than he had anticipated, but who was he to complain?
Once Spock was all the way in, he paused to give Jim a little time to adjust. "Jim," he breathed, gripping the captain's hips in a way that was sure to leave bruises.
"Move, damn it!" Jim shouted, glaring at Spock over his shoulder. "That's an order."
Spock actually smirked. "Yes, Captain." He pulled back slightly before plunging back in, hitting Jim's prostate dead-on.
"Oh, yes!" Jim yelled, arching even farther off the bed so that he was curved with his backside in the air. "Harder," he moaned. Spock sped up, creating a pace that was leisurely for him but that felt like a jackhammer to Jim. "Spock," Jim said after a while. "I need you to touch me."
Spock reached a hand around Jim's waist and gripped his leaking erection in his hot Vulcan hand, stroking slowly. "Jim," he mumbled into his back, pressing open-mouthed kisses across his shoulder blades. "I am afraid I am close."
Jim was bucking his hips into Spock's hand and at his First Officer's declaration of not being able to hold on much longer, he groaned. A strangled, "Oh, God," was the only warning he gave before releasing all over Spock's hand and the sheets below him. His tight channel clenched Spock's erection, causing the commander to fall apart as well, spilling himself inside of his captain.
They fell to the bed in an unceremonious heap, Spock taking a second to pull out. Jim snuggled back into Spock's chest, entwining their fingers in one hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. With his other hand, Spock held out his index and middle fingers. Jim looked confused before reaching up to touch the fingers with his own index and middle fingers. A slight electrical charge coursed through them both at the contact. The corners of Spock's mouth twitched in a smile.
He wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and pulled him closer. "T'hy'la," he breathed into his ear.
Jim's nose scrunched up. "What's that?"
Spock didn't give an answer, resolving to kiss his captain once more.
Not that Kirk minded: Spock tasted like peppermint.