Oh, come on... You know you're thinking the same thing I am. Just look at him, ass in the air, begging for it…
Jim swallowed loudly, trying hard to ignore the discomfort he was feeling just below his Starfleet issue belt buckle, as his fly ground painfully over his insistent erection. I said to shut-up! He yelled internally at the voice whispering across the forefront of his consciousness. Yet, he was looking, inconspicuously so as not to be noticed, licking his lips subtly at the pert curve of ass, slightly upraised while Spock bent dutifully over his console, mapping the star system like a good little Science Officer.
So good, the voice whispered again, filling Jim's mind with snippets of fantasies—Spock on his knees, sucking him off at the center seat, Spock bent over his console taking Jim's cock and begging for more, Spock pressed up against him from behind, pushing him up against the wall and filling him full of—
Goddamnit, that's enough. Give me a break! Jim's heart was pounding loudly in his ears, and he was shaking all over. This is all Bones' fault, he thought angrily as his cock gave another painful throb.
They'd been on a diplomatic mission to Holly VI when McCoy had caused the unthinkable, and to be fair, they later found that Hollian wine was almost as potent as Saurian brandy and so the doctor had unwittingly become three sheets to the wind. Still, the result of Bones' drunken tirade concerning Jim's self-induced 'dry spell' to the planet's lead interspecies relations representative was less than amusing. The results of that discussion had been even worse, not that the Hollians saw it that way, of course.
They'd been 'doing him a favor,' according to their physicians who'd been hailed by a very distressed CMO when Jim had finally decided to confess his 'little problem' to Bones six hours after they'd left orbit. Six hours of Jim thinking he was losing his fucking mind, six hours of constant lusting, six hours of non-stop insistence that he fuck just about every available orifice on the ship until finally that lust centered in on his deepest and most unfathomable wish: Spock.
Apparently, the Hollians believed that Jim's self-imposed celibacy was bad for him, and declared to both he and McCoy quite passionately that Jim was neglecting his body and injuring his aura. So, meddling bastards that they were, thought it was a good idea to—while he slept—open a channel in his mind (gotta love fucking telepaths) that would allow his body, or more specifically his dick, to communicate its needs clearly to him. Result: Terminal erection, terminal blue balls (because his cock apparently found it funny to not let him come until he did what it demanded) sleepless nights and a migraine that just wouldn't leave. The best part? It was only the second day.
The Hollians claimed that the point of opening the channel was so that the Captain would seek and attain what his body needed. After he did that, they happily informed, his dick would lose its newfound sentience and he could go on living his life, happy and sexually frustrated just the way he preferred. The only problem with that equation, once again: Spock. He was never going to be able to do what his dick was demanding. Approaching Spock would not only violate every regulation regarding commanding officers and sexual harassment, but he'd also lose the most meaningful relationship he'd ever cultivated. The friendship he had with Spock went above and beyond anything he'd ever known previously, and he'd spent months fighting his attraction, was perfectly happy to continue on doing so. If that meant his dick would probably fall off by the end of tomorrow, so be it.
What?! Jim's cock cried loudly into his mind's eye, outraged at the thought, making Jim's head pound in agony. If this were the mirror verse they'd stumbled upon a few months ago, Jim would have gleefully blown Holly VI to tiny little bits. Where was an agony booth when you really needed one? Someone deserved to feel his pain, god damn it. Just do what I want…it'll make you feel better, it cajoled insistently.
How exactly am I supposed to do what you want? Spock's not gay, he's not even bi-sexual, not even a little bit and what the fuck makes you think that if he were, he would ever see me that way? He's the closest friend I've ever had, do you really want to ruin that for me, you selfish, prick? Jim's mind was thinking so loudly he was surprised he hadn't actually screamed it on the bridge.
And How the hell do you know what he likes?!
I just KNOW!
That's just an excuse to not give us what we want! You're nothing but a coward. Just…just sneak up behind him and give him a little rub, right between those perfect cheeks…if he doesn't throw us across the bridge, then you'll know!
I fucking hate you.
"Captain?" Spock's smooth, even baritone sounded from his right. God, that voice…his cock thought longingly.
Jim cleared his throat and craned his neck to meet Spock's eyes, "Yes, Mr. Spock?" Would you like to let me fuck you, Mr. Spock? Oh, Mr. Spock, his cock moaned mockingly, that's the spot right there. That's it, pound that ass, you sexy beast. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Right. Now.
"I was just curious as to whether you had realized that Alpha shift ended five point seven minutes ago," Spock answered stoically, his eyes suspiciously amused.
Jim forced a smile, "Did it?" He then looked over to his left to see his replacement, Lieutenant Giotto standing there, waiting patiently, obviously humored by Jim's lack of wherewithal. God, if they only knew…
"Indeed," Spock continued, non-smile, non-smiling even more.
Imagine what those lips would look like wrapped around me…
For the second time, Jim awkwardly cleared his throat and bit the inside of his lip painfully, bending forward slightly so that his thighs could pinch his sack just enough to make his erection flag so that he could stand. "I guess I must have zoned out for a minute…or five," he smiled at Spock. "I won't waste any more of your time, Mr. Giotto. Take care of my lady." With that, he turned and made his way to the turbolift.
"Captain," Spock entered the lift beside him, "does your schedule allow for a game of chess this evening?"
Jim swallowed. He had promised himself yesterday that he wouldn't let this 'dilemma' interfere with his friendship with Spock, regardless of how loud or painful his dick became. Say yes, say yes, say yes…
"Sure," Jim tried to squeeze as much sincerity into his smile as possible. "When's good for you?"
"Nineteen hundred hours would be sufficient," Spock replied stoically, sparing Jim a sideways glance.
"Nineteen hundred hours it is," Jim affirmed. When the lift doors opened, he made haste to his quarters, palming his aching sac the second the door swished shut behind him.
Mmm…that's nice. Little to the left.
Fuck you; I know what I'm doing. Jim continued to rub himself as he crossed his quarters to his sleeping area. He pulled off his over shirt and slipped his hand into his trousers, studiously ignoring his whining cock, before reclining against the headboard. Payback was a bitch.
Oh God…c'mon, touch me already, please, it pleaded.
You gonna let me come this time?
Are you going to ask Spock to fuck us tonight? There was a moment of mutual silence. Didn't think so.
With a frustrated sigh, Jim let his head fall back against the headboard with a thud. He wanted to punch something…or weep. This was going to be the longest game of chess in history.
"I believe it is your move, Jim," Spock addressed him easily, something that never failed to make Jim smile. It had taken him the better part of a year to get the Vulcan to quit addressing him as 'Captain' in their off duty hours. It was yet another reminder of all they'd been through and how close they'd become.
We need to be a hell of a lot closer, his cock chimed into his thoughts for the billionth time that hour.
Please, would you just be quiet for five minutes? Just let me enjoy some time with him without having to hear you in my head, Jim closed his eyes in frustration.
"Jim?" The concern in that voice, caused him to snap his eyes open.
"I'm sorry, Spock," he managed a weak smile, "you're right. It's my move." Jim leaned forward to examine the board, but he couldn't even so much as remember which piece Spock had just placed. Trying to cover for his odd behavior, he cockily moved one of his own at random. Big mistake.
Spock was now eyeing him intensely, something he usually only did when Jim was about to either do something incredibly risky or supremely stupid. It wasn't helping. I wish he would look at me like that, his cock actually seemed to sigh at the prospect, turn me over in those hands like a newfound lab specimen…prodding…stroking…squeezing just a little…
Christ... Jim rolled his eyes. Another big mistake, an outward show of irritability, something he tried hard not to do in front of anyone, ever, least of all someone as perceptive to his moods as Spock.
"Are you…annoyed with me, Captain?" Spock asked, eyebrow raised but otherwise seemingly nonplussed.
"What?—No," Jim stuttered, "of course not. I'm just…I'm annoyed with myself I guess you could say…"
Spock leaned forward, elbows propped on the table, his hands clasped in that familiar way they had, "May I speak freely, sir?"
Those lips, First Officer, could do so much more than speak to us…
Jim ignored 'it,' and met his Vulcan's serious brown eyes, "Spock, it's Jim when we're off duty, remember? And you can ask me anything."
"Very well," Spock took a measured breath, then, "Since our departure from Holly VI, forty-nine point eight hours ago, you have seemed uncharacteristically distracted. I have noticed the frequency with which you 'zone out' as humans say has increased by seventy-three point four percent. Additionally—"
"You're right, Spock," Jim interrupted, knowing full well that his current predicament was interfering with his efficiency as a Captain. Hell, he'd walked straight into Bones that very morning on his way to breakfast, inundated with images of Spock naked and bound in his bed. It had only been a couple days, but he was already in dire straits.
"I was not finished, Jim," Spock replied succinctly, before pushing his chair back and standing. Jim's eyes shot up at the swift movement, unnerved slightly by a glint of something in the Vulcan's eyes he'd never seen there before.
"Uh…" he opened his mouth stupidly, "by all means…"
"As I was saying," Spock continued, slowly approaching him from the other side of the table, "in addition to your recent decrease in efficiency, I have also noticed something else of an even more disturbing nature. A second consciousness, that is both part of you and yet is not you simultaneously, which appears to have a high level of telepathic ability."
"Telepathic…" Jim repeated, feeling numb suddenly, his throat running dry.
Oh yeah, his cock throbbed in his pants, his sack aching so painfully that he thought he might vomit.…you know how much I want you…tell me you want us too…
He doubled over in pain, groaning aloud as he berated his asshole of a dick, Shut up, shut up, shut up. Don't you get it? He can hear you, you bastard! He's heard everything you've said! Oh God…fuck, he's going to leave…I fucking hate you, this is all your fault!
He was too busy panicking and trying not to hurl, that he almost didn't notice blue clad arms settle on either side of him, long fingers wrapping around the armrests of his seat. Spock pushed the chair, and Jim, back forcefully against the wall. Shocked, pain filled blue eyes snapped to meet dark, smoldering brown.
"I want you." It was said with such unnerving calm, precision—clear, and blandly spoken—that Jim nearly fell out of his chair.
"What did you…what did you just—" Spock's hand moved so quickly, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and pulling him forward into a hard kiss, that Jim barely had time to react before he was being pulled bodily from his seat and plastered against the nearest bulk head, mind reeling as Spock attacked his neck, hands sliding up his back with urgency.
Jim's cock was at full attention, utterly aroused by what was happening, and he could feel each individual drop of pre-cum as it leaked freely from the slit, spotting the front of his trousers. Oh fuck yes, oh God Spock, touch us…touch us…please…need you…His cock was chanting madly, dying for some precious contact.
"Sp—ock…." He managed to croak raggedly, "what are you…"
"I had thought that would be obvious," the Vulcan replied evenly, as if he weren't currently pushing Jim up a wall and forcing himself between his Captain's thighs. He ripped the front of Jim's pants and boxers wide open and then some, the tears reaching mid-thigh. With Jim's entire lower body on display before him, Spock's eyes widened at the sight of the human's reproductive organs and he became unVulcanly angry.
How Jim had managed to function at all under this much obvious pain was astounding. His testicles appeared severely bruised, splotched with shades of purple-blue and his organ was flushed completely red, fluid leaking copiously from the tip to trail over his pulsing shaft. Spock reached out to tentatively caress, heart twisting in his side when Jim flinched away, his eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted—torn between his desire and his physical pain.
Hurts so good, baby…the other consciousness Spock had detected eleven hours ago while on bridge duty broadcasted once more and he frowned his displeasure.
"You are hurting him," Spock addressed firmly, his voice hard with not so subtle accusation. He knew how the Captain's current predicament had come about, the Hollians having unwittingly opened Jim's psyche as if it were a twentieth century wireless tower. Any being with telepathic abilities would have been able to receive the messages Jim had been sending periodically throughout the day whether they shielded against it or not.
Spock had asked for the chess match, not knowing at that moment what he intended to do. He had assumed that Jim would be able to find any number of willing partners, yet when he arrived to find the Captain was still suffering from the Hollians' interference and as their chess game progressed, he learned that Jim's desire was focused entirely upon himself. He also knew that Jim would never ask—that the human valued their relationship so greatly, he would rather be castrated than risk losing it. In deference to the fact that Jim becoming a eunuch would impede upon his own sexual attraction to the human, Spock had known then what must be done, and quickly.
"You're…you're talking to it?" Jim ground out, his eyes beholding Spock with equal parts awe and embarrassment, drawing the Vulcan's attention.
"Indeed," Spock replied, slipping off his shoes as he held Jim in place against the wall. "I will transport us to the bed if you would wrap your legs around my waist."
Jim complied, noticing now that his head was blissfully silent, "Hey…I can't hear it anymore…"
"I believe 'it' is feeling sufficiently chastised," Spock deadpanned, moving them seemingly effortlessly across Jim's quarters and into the bedroom.
Jim gifted him with his first genuine smile all day. He laid the human gently onto the mattress, pulling him free of his ruined pants and assisting him with his shirts. Once they were both fully naked, Spock knelt on the bed and spread Jim's thighs open so that he could lie on his stomach between them. "In your current condition, I believe overstimulation would cause you insurmountable pain. I will attempt to be as gentle as possible." With that, he bent his head and licked gently at heavy, swollen testicles.
Jim's eyes were wide, his lips parted as he panted, "Fuck…" He threw his back, his mind flooding with instantaneous relief as Spock continued to caress his aching sack with his mouth.
Oh…oh, please…oh please…my turn! My turn! Jim's cock finally piped up despite his shame at Spock's earlier rebuke.
Because Jim wishes it also, Spock lectured it as he slowly sucked his way from the bottom of Jim's sack to the base of his cock.
"OH!"Fuck! Jim and his dick cried simultaneously as Spock's mouth engulfed the head of his tortured organ. Ooooooooohhhh…yesssss…his penis' inner voice seemed to shudder with pleasure as that mouth sank lower, centimeter by centimeter, not that Jim could blame him. In fact, for the first time since the Hollians had given his cock the gift of gab, Jim found that he couldn't agree more with its sentiment; Spock's mouth was wet, molten heaven.
Jim couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Spock's lips wrapped wrapped around his turgid pole, cheeks hollowed with gentle suction. Told you so, didn't I? It's so warm…Oh-suck me, suck me you hot, sexy Vulcan-does it look as good as it feels?
Jim found himself answering before he could stop himself, Fuck, yes. He could feel Spock's amusement filter through his mind at his answer and chuckled despite himself. He couldn't believe what was happening. Spock was here…Spock was naked…Spock's hands were on his ass…Spock's mouth was on his cock…
He was hypersensitive, just as Spock had said and Jim came too soon, in a sudden torrent, half-shouting, half-whimpering as he spilled two days worth of pent up come into Spock's mouth and onto his chin. Yet, when the Vulcan pulled away, swollen lips kissing a path up Jim's body, his cock was still stubbornly erect. More…more…we need more…
Don't be greedy!
"It is all right, Jim," Spock interceded, "I am not yet prepared to stop, if your body desires more."
You're such a God, Jim's cock adoringly praised the Vulcan.
"Finally, something he and I agree on," Jim sighed.
Instead of commenting, Spock non-smirked and continued his upward path, pausing to give equal attention to each of Jim's hardened nipples, which up until this moment had never really been one of his erogenous zones. "Fuck, you drive me crazy," he moaned, his back arching instinctively as Spock bit teasingly at one of the buds, swiping it with a soothing tongue just after.
"I find your inability to control your reactions to my touch…fascinating," Spock whispered, his lips now just behind his ear, body just hovering above Jim's own, one hand holding him up while the other toyed with Jim's cock, much to its utter delight.
"Can I…" Jim averted his eyes nervously, still uncertain whether Spock was doing this out of pity or because he actually wanted to, "Can I…touch you…?"
Spock lowered his body, ignoring Jim's penis' endless string of happy expletives as their flesh finally met. He untangled one human hand from the bedding and placed it over his left buttock. "You may touch me in whatever way pleases you," he whispered sultrily, before his tongue licked its way past pink lips and ravaged until he could feel both of those hands gripping at him eagerly. Slowly their kiss morphed from harsh and desperate to slow and explorative as their bodies began to move against one another in a sensual promise.
Oh…It's so good…so hard…Jim's dick was practically singing with arousal. Feels so good against me…Oh…Spock…we need more…something more…
"He is rather persistent," Spock deadpanned, pausing their motion abruptly.
Jim couldn't help it, he laughed openly, "You have no idea…" he watched Spock pin him to the bed with an eyebrow, "Well…maybe you do. Did you really hear everything?"
Spock's eyes danced with that quiet amusement that Jim was so fond of, "I believe an accurate summation would be, 'I heard enough,' Jim." Spock then kissed him chastely, "We will require a form of lubricant."
"There was some in the nightstand, but I used it all last night," he admitted somewhat embarrassed. Not for the first time that evening, Spock frowned at Jim's dick. "It was awful, don't ask."
"I will replicate some more—"
"Wait—" Jim gripped Spock's wrist, "Are you sure you want to do this? With me? I know you obviously heard enough to know what's going on, but this is way outside of your job description. I mean, if you're doing this out of some sense of duty because I'm the Captain or because we're friends, you don't have to—"
"Jim," Spock addressed firmly, "Vulcans are not, by nature, promiscuous beings. There is not mating for the sake of mating among my kind. If this is to happen between us, it is because you are you, and I am I. There is no other reason."
Jim swallowed thickly, a warm smile spreading across his face like a love-struck idiot, "Did you just wax philosophic on me?"
I wish someone would wax something on me, his cock complained.
With a raised eyebrow, Spock disappeared and reappeared with a container of clear, viscous solution in record time. He set it on the nightstand and then knelt on the bed, beside Jim's prone form, "Please turn over, Jim," he directed.
Jim took a deep, calming breath and then complied. Spock's hands started at his shoulders, rubbing slow, small circles into his sore muscles—a byproduct of his recent heightened level of stress. "Mmmmm…" he sighed into his pillows, "s'nice."
A little lower, his cock quipped.
Jim rolled his eyes behind closed lids, God, you're annoying.
Yet, Spock's hands did move lower, though casually, with every swirl of his thumbs. The hands that Jim and his cock had been fantasizing about just last night kneaded his overheated flesh soothingly, all the way down his spine until they finally reached the valley just before the upward curve of his ass. He allowed Spock to spread his thighs open, the bed shifting behind him, until he felt warm breath against his cleft. Before he could so much as envision the possibility of it in his mind, Spock gripped him and spread him, his tongue licking a stripe over the valley of his parted buttocks.
Immediately his cock was standing at attention, Oh God, you naughty…fucking…oh…oh…The rapturous litany went one, but Jim could scarcely concentrate on anything other than Spock's tongue, circling his hole and bathing him in sticky, wet saliva. "Oh…Spock…" he moaned helplessly, his hips angling toward that warm, tantalizing mouth.
Spock pulled Jim's hips back down to the bed, one hand snaking up between his legs to grasp at his cock from underneath. He bit the underside of one smooth, rounded globe, stroking Jim's shaft, while he sucked at the smarted flesh, marking the human with possessive satisfaction. He then refocused on the tiny bud, hidden between the perfect mounds of Jim's ass, opening him like a book once more, his mouth descending to lick and suck, pierce and enflame. Jim was writhing in his grasp, his breaths sharp and uneven. "Mnnnn," Spock moaned his appreciation for the open display of need against the tiny little pucker of muscle.
He thrust his tongue against the tight ring, licking into his lover's body, incited further by Jim and his penis' eagerness for more. Aware that his control was now tenuous at best, Spock reached for the container of lubricant and slicked two fingers. Slowly, he circled the pulsing hole, dipping his index finger in and out experimentally, over and over until Jim begged him to stop 'teasing.' Slowly, he fully inserted his digit, moving it back and forth minutely as Jim adjusted around it, squeezing so tightly.
His own breaths were now uneven, and his heart rate increased exponentially as he inserted a second finger, increasing the pressure. Spock began working Jim open, scissoring and thrusting, admiring the sensuality of Jim's body as the human raised his hips to meet his hand. C'mon Spock…stroke it…curl those fingers up…just a little—OH…oh yeah…Jim's cock reveled as the Vulcan rubbed over that little bundle of nerves with surgical precision.
"Oh…feels so good…so good…" Jim breathed, pushing back onto three fingers now.
"Jim…"Spock licked his lips as he withdrew his tingling digits, "I wish to penetrate you at this time."
That shouldn't sound so fucking hot…
"Please do," Jim replied to Spock, angling his hips into the air in unmistakable invitation.
Spock growled low in his throat, not having expected to be so thoroughly undone by their activities. He slicked his own throbbing erection, and lined up, driving forward without any warning. Their rhythm was erratic as they began, Spock pushing forward forcefully, having reached the limits of his control, and Jim pushing back just as eager...for more, deeper, harder. The human's cock bounced happily, straining with every blunt, relentless thrust against its prostate.
Jim's body was wound tight, every synapse aware of every sensation as they raced toward completion. Suddenly, Spock changed their position, pulling Jim up and back, so that Spock was sitting on his knees Jim was straddling him backward, his back warm and slick against Spock's chest.
Spock's strong, capable hands pulled Jim's hips, up and down, back and forth, impaling his hole on his long, thick cock, nailing his prostate as often as possible. Jim didn't dare touch his reeling organ, knowing it would spell the end if he did. He allowed his head to fall back onto Spock's shoulder, his eyes closing as he drown in sensation, chest heaving with exertion. His eyes snapped open when he was stilled suddenly, his ass drawn back tightly against Spock's unmoving hips.
"Spock—ah!" he shouted, squirming slightly as the massive cock, buried to hilt inside of him began to…expand.
What the fuck is that?! His cock screamed in rapturous agony.
"I am about to experience orgasm," Spock informed, wrapping a hand around Jim's panicking cock.
Jim's dick could feel the head of Spock's penis pressing harder and harder against his glands. The pressure was beyond intense, beyond anything that he or Jim had ever experienced, the tingling from its earlier stimulation becoming a solid aching pleasure center. Oh…oh…touch me, stroke me, fuck me…GOD!
Jim felt himself stretching slowly, felt the insistent pushing against his prostate, heard the cries of his bewildered, but insanely happy dick and then he felt warmth…flooding into his channel like a broken damn. Spock's hand on his organ stroked him expertly, as he once again began to move inside of him, the muscle of his gloriously alien cock knotted so that every slide in and out of Jim's sensitive hole was accentuated as each knot popped in and out, over and over. "Oh…oh Gods!" Jim's essence short forth, thick and white, in arches over the bedding, standing out in starkly contrasting white ropes against the deep blue of the sheets.
He had bent forward, over the forearm that gripped him from behind, the only thing holding him upright, with the force of his climax. Spock was still moving inside of him, his ass so full of come, their bodies so wet with it, that it squelched indecently between them. When they finally came down from their mutual high, Jim noticed two things immediately: First, he was warm and comfortable in Spock's arms, if a bit sticky, and Second, his cock was no longer speaking, its presence in his subconscious blissfully absent.
"Are we too far from Holly VI to beam their diplomatic team a fruit basket?" Gotta love those telepaths…
A/N: I had some formatting issues with the first upload, hopefully that is fixed now. Either way, I hope you got a laugh! Leave a review if the mood suits you.