I love Academy fics and so have decided to write one.

This will take longer to update because I have only written this chapter. I will post as I write.


I dont own Star Trek... but I would like a cadet uniform




Pike pulls some strings.

Kirk is in his second year of StarFleet Academy and he is so bored.

He compressed a 4 year Command course into 3 years and is doing extra computer science classes on the side, but he is still so bored.

So he goes to Pike and sulks and Pike pulls some strings.

Those pulled strings are why Kirk is currently sitting in the third year xenolinguistics class, even though it is not actually part of his curriculum.

Kirk practically begs Pike to find him a place in the class. It wasn't that Pike did not believe Kirk would be able to understand the material, but he fears that the workload might be even too much for the genius that is James Tiberius Kirk.

That is what Kirk is hoping for. A challenge.

He hears that the professor is a real slave driver. He sees grown men weeping in the hallways because of the workload that makes it's way out of that class.

He assures Pike that he can handle it.

He is sitting in the lecture hall, about half up the aisle of seats, twirling his stylus in his fingers as he waits for this class to start.

He can see that chick, Uhura if he remembers correctly, sitting in the front row, scribbling furiously. Kirk is tempted to go down and sit next to her just to be a pain in her side, but before he can make a decision on the matter, the doors to the hall bang open.

Kirk turns towards the sound and his breath freezes in his lungs.

The most elegant and handsome creature is making their way down the aisles. By the time the man god has made it to the first row of seats, Kirk's brain functions are operational enough for him to recognise that the man is wearing a black professor's uniform.

'This could make things difficult, but not impossible.'

The professor, who is now the centre of Kirk's whole fucking universe turns around to face the class. Kirk wonders how he could have possibly missed the pointed ears and slanted eyebrows.

'He's a Vulcan! This just got that little bit closer to impossible.'

The Vulcan professor turns around again to turn on the projector and Kirk's gaze lingers on his ass wrapped in snug, black trousers.

'Well, I did want a challenge and here it is.'

"Afternoon cadets. Today I will be instructing you in some key phrases of Klingon."

Kirk's heart speeds up after hearing that smooth, sexy voice escape the Vulcan.

'Holy fuck! That voice speaking Klingon! I might blow my load right here. So hot!'

Kirk is thankful that he is already fluent in Klingon because he barely hears anything during the whole class. He spends most of his time trying to keep 'Little Jimmy' under control. Apparently 'LJ' is a huge fan of the Vulcan professor.

"Class dismissed."

Kirk watches the cadets around him scramble out of their seats and pretty much run for the exits. Most of the cadets anyway. Uhura sits their for a minute as if she is waiting for something. Obviously it doesn't come because she makes a dramatic sigh, gets up out of her chair and stomps out of the hall. Kirk will never understand women.

"I do not know you Cadet."

Kirk is startled out of his thoughts by the voice resonating from the lecturer's podium. He whips his head down to find the Vulcan staring at him.

"Oh, I'm..."

Kirk doesn't get to finish because the Professor raises his hand in the universal sign for 'stop.'

"Cadet, it seems logical for you to come down here so that we do not have to strain our voices."

Kirk shakes himself out of his little stupor and rises to his feet. He slings his bag over his shoulder after stuffing his PADD inside and begins to make his way down to the front of the class. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest and has to wipe his palms against his red cadet pants.

All of a sudden, he is looking into the deepest, brown eyes he has ever seen.

"What is your name, Cadet?"

A shiver runs up Kirk's spine from hearing that voice up close. Kirk is pretty sure the man could talk about the correct soil temperature to grow tomatoes and he would still think it was the sexiest thing he has ever heard.

'Someone should distil and bottle his voice. I know I would buy a shit load of it if they did'

"Kirk, Jim Kirk, sir."

Both of the Vulcan's elegant eyebrows rise at the sound of the name.

"My apologies, Cadet Kirk. Captain Pike did mention to me that you would be joining my class. I am Professor Spock."

Kirk knows that Vulcan do not appreciate being touched, but he has never been known to not push boundaries. He offers his hand.

The Professor's eyes flash down to the cadet's hand and then back to his face. Kirk braces himself for the rejections that he just knows is coming. He can be forgiven for nearly having a stroke when, instead of rejections, he feels a super warm hand glides against his and then grips it.

The Vulcan's gaze doesn't leave his as their hands continue to stay connected.

"It is a... pleasure to meet you Cadet Kirk."

The warm hand begins to slide out of Kirk's and his body already is missing the heat.

Kirk becomes aware of the fact that he can feel two fingers brush deliberately against his palm before the contact is completely severed.

"If there is any action I can take to ensure that you are adequately prepared for this class, do not hesitate to contact me."

Kirk glances down to his palm that is still tingling from the strange contact. Not 'bad' strange. More like 'Little Jimmy is perking up' strange.

His gaze fixes on Prof. Spock once more.

"Yeah, thanks."

The following silence is then broken by the chirping of a communicator. The professor takes it from his pocket, opens it and them frowns slightly.

"I am sorry to cut this meeting short, but I am needed elsewhere. Good-bye, Cadet Kirk."

Kirk watches him gather his things and walk away. Even though he is disappointed that he is leaving, he will admit that the view is nice. He sighs dreamily.

'Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave sums it up nicely.'

Kirk completes his walk back to the dorms on auto-pilot. He can't remember who he sees, if he talks to anyone or even the why he ends up wet. All he can recall is brown eyes burning into his soul, a sensual voice sending all his nerve endings on fire, and the caress of fingers that makes him want to burst out of his skin.

He walks into his room and right past his best friend as if he is in a trance.

"Not even gonna say 'hi' now? Didn't ya momma ever teach ya any manners?"

Kirk grabs his damp towel that he had left on his bed this morning, and heads towards the bathroom.

"Apparently not."

As he shuts the door, he is sure that he can hear Bones mutter "Jackass" and he chuckles.

Once alone in the bathroom, he quickly strips and jumps into the shower.

He begins re-enacting the events of the day in his head and before long his hand is travelling down and he is touching himself.

Kirk has never been this turned on this much in his life. If he doesn't release the pressure soon, he is sure he will combust.

It's the memory of the caress of fingers against his palm that finally does him in. His vision goes white.

Five minutes later, he is still slumped against the tiled wall of the shower. The water has turned luke-warm and he knows he needs to get out.

The golden haired man finally reaches out, turns off the water and steps out of the shower.

As Kirk dries himself off, he glances at himself in the mirror and freezes at the sight that greets him.

'I'm glowing. I'm fucking glowing! I never glow! And my eyes better not be sparkling!'

He lifts his hand and places it flat against the mirror. He leans in close to his reflection and stares at his sparkling fucking eyes!

"Shit!. You have it bad this time my friend."

His reflection doesn't comment to that accusation, but he really wasn't expecting it to.

People don't tend to comment when the accusations are true.