Archive of Our Own

Jim Kirk, coitus interrupter

or

The epic tale of Spock and the Cockblocker of Doom

James T. Kirk leans against the bar and surveys the room. It’s their first shore-leave, and it’s proven to be awesome so far. They went to the beach and Chekov and Scotty built a very impressive, five-foot-tall sandcastle. Surfing with Sulu was great fun and he even managed to cajole Bones into the ocean. He didn’t get Spock to take off his clothes, but he won’t give up on that.

Now he’s here, in the hottest bar on Abel, he has his drink, his best friends next to him, he has his ship and his crew – and still feels a mixture of giddiness and horror at the thought of being responsible for over 400 people. But, his crew is highly motivated, their first missions went well and life is good.

He smiles to himself and gives the cute Abelian at a nearby table a wink when he notices her watching, she blushes a pretty violet and averts her eyes. Yeah, life is great. Even Bones is less grumpy than usual and is chatting quite animatedly with the U.S.S. Machiavelli’s head nurse. Go Bones, he thinks and turns to talk to Spock who is –

Gone. What the? He was here five seconds ago. Jim scans the room, carefully choosing not to examine the reason why he doesn’t like it if Spock’s not close by.  He’s only the Captain worried about the wellbeing of his crew, thank you very much. The last time Spock disappeared, he had been drugged and the clan matriarch of Velut 7 tried to marry him off to her 37th daughter, which sucked in so many ways…

There he is. He refuses to acknowledge the surge of relief when he finds Spock, relief that quickly turns into confusion, then horror and anger. What the hell is going on over there?!

-----

The Abelian who has been watching him for 4.7 minutes seems most pleasing to Spock’s eyes. The long-fingered hands promise flexibility and dexterity, muscular arms and thighs hint at strength and stamina. His lessons in Abelian biology taught him the species’ males are gifted with exceptionally long and adroit genitals consisting of three separate strands. Spock indulges in a brief fantasy of being held down by these muscular arms while the Abelians’ genitals search their way inside his body. He approves.

Spock gazes back at the interested male and tilts his hips in a carefully calculated angle. He is pleased to notice the Abelian’s eyes widen and the fluttering of gills which indicate rising sexual interest. He rolls his head sideways and assumes a position that Nyota had called “a blatant tease”. He is gratified to see the Abelian instantly moving closer.

“Buy you a drink?”

Introductions are exchanged quickly. Now Tyros is standing very close, well inside Spock’s usually carefully guarded personal space. He has no interest in a drink, and tells the Abelian so. Tyros chuckles and steps even closer. Spock lets himself be pressed against the wall and raises one hand to caress the soft-looking gills on Tyros’ neck. The other shivers and Spock allows himself a small smile. This looks most promising, indeed. The Abelian grasps his unoccupied hand and the undercurrent of arousal Spock’s touch-telepathy picks up is most pleasing, as is the clean, fresh smell the other’s skin emits.

-----

Spock and this sleazy Abelian stand way too close together. Jim narrows his eyes. Why the hell doesn’t his – the Vulcan, the – nerve-pinch this guy already? Jim has read everything there is on Vulcans, their sociology and customs, and even hacked into the Academy’s medical database to download the very spare information about Vulcan psychology and biology, and he knows how important personal space and privacy is to them – hell, Spock’s eyebrows of evil show him every time he gets too close, and this guy – and now he’s even touching Spock!

That dirty scumbag. He’s basically molesting his First Officer, and Spock lets him and wait. Jim takes in Spock’s pose and expression, and Jesus, the Vulcan likes it. Spock likes it and is touching back and he’s flirting, oh God, this is awful.

He has to stage an intervention.

-----

“I assume you have adequate lodgings in the immediate area?”

Spock makes sure to murmur softly enough that the Abelian has to lean close to him, and shivers when Tyros’ answering chuckle tickles his ear. Tyros other hand travels down to press between his legs, while Spock’s fingers wander along a strong neck, over a broad chest and further down. He is curious as to how the Abelian’s genitals might feel and allows his own to rise slightly.

He is about to propose leaving this establishment when suddenly a heavy warmth surrounds his shoulders.

“Spock! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Spock’s eyes close on their own volition. Trust the Captain to appear at such an untimely moment. He opens them again and turns towards Kirk.

“Captain. As you can see I am quite busy. I would therefore appreciate it if you were to remove yourself from my presence.”

Spock knows his voice must sound clipped and somewhat harsh. He has to work hard at suppressing a rather strong feeling of testiness. The latest missions have left him somewhat stressed, and he harbors great hope that an opportunity to… indulge in sexual relations will add to his relaxation.

He becomes aware suddenly that Tyros’ hands are no longer touching any part of his body. He turns his head and finds the Abelian standing slightly further away than before, watching Spock and Kirk with unsure eyes. Spock tries to ignore his Captain’s arm still wrapped uncomfortably close around his shoulders and gives the Abelian a slight, and as he hopes, inviting smile. This situation might still be salvageable.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Spock! I missed you, is all.”

The Captain’s grin is as wide as ever, but seems somewhat strained now. Spock wonders briefly about possible causes for this, but then – Kirk pulls him even closer and pats his arm. Spock inhales sharply and opens his mouth for a reprimand, but closes it again abruptly when he hears a faint “Excuse me…” and sees Tyros hastily making his way towards the opposite side of the room.

Spock allows himself a heavy sigh. He turns to the Captain.

“Captain Kirk. Your interruption was neither necessary nor is it appreciated. I am quite capable of seeking my own entertainment, you need not, as you have stated on numerous occasions, help ‘lighten me up’. Indeed, I was just now participating in a very promising conversation and have no need of your company at this time.”

Kirk looks at him with violent blue eyes. They are wide and hurt, and Kirk clears his throat.

“Sorry, Spock. I just… well, it’s our first shore-leave, and I just thought we maybe could spend some time together? You know, off duty? So, ah, sorry for interrupting. See you later.”

The Captain turns and starts to walk away. His head is hanging are his shoulders are - slumped might be the correct word. Spock experiences an unpleasant sensation in his intestines that he last noticed when he saw his mother’s face after he told her he did not want to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. Kirk walking away dejectedly is a decidedly unsatisfactory sight and he finds himself wanting to stop the human. His own selfish needs of relaxation are of less importance than his relation with James Kirk.

“Captain.”

Kirk stops and looks at him. Hope blossoms in his youthful face and the unpleasant sensation in Spock’s intestines abates.

“I would not be averse to consuming a non-alcoholic beverage in your company, if you are willing.”

“Great!” Kirk’s smile lights up his entire face and the pleasure seems to change his eye color to a lighter shade Spock associates with the sea. Even Kirk’s startling shoulder-slap seems not as offensive as it usually does, and Spock follows his Captain back to the bar.

He thinks about asking McCoy what biological reasons there might be for human eyes to change their color, but decides against it, as the Doctor clearly does not approve of being disturbed in his conversation with Nurse Ch’beka. However, his Captain seems to delight in teasing McCoy, and laughs heartily whenever Spock inserts his own comments and observations on the Doctor’s mood.

Although he did not find the relaxation he hoped upon entering the bar, Spock is not opposed to adding to the Captain’s.

-----

Leonard is doing inventory when Jim bangs into the room and startles him. He glares at the kid. Dammit, now he has to start over. He starts counting again and ignores the dramatic sigh Jim gives and keeps his back firmly towards the puppy dog look the kid is no doubt aiming at his head. 27, 28, 29…

“Bohones!”

Goddammit. Leonard whirls around, but the sight of his friends stops the rant before he can open his mouth. Jim is slumped onto a biobed, looking dejected, big blue eyes gazing imploringly at him, and he knew it, adorable pout firmly in place. Leonard hates that Jim can work him this way, but he’s always had a soft spot for the small and helpless, and his goddamned Captain just looks like a 5-year-old who lost his teddy bear. He takes his scanner and frowns at his readings. Kid looks stressed and pale and he doesn’t like that Jim got so little sleep lately.

“Stop it!” Jim tries to bat the scanner away, “I’m not sick!”

Leonard believes him only after the scan confirms it. Little tired and dehydrated, nothing worse than during finals.

“I’m just…”

“What?” Leonard glares at Jim suspiciously.

“…Stressed, is all.”

“I can see that. Why? I’d expect you to be all mellow and sated after shore leave. Surely there were willing females all over you eager to help you relax?”

Jim glares back and pouts some more. “For your information, I don’t sleep indiscriminately with everyone I encounter!”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “I never would have thought that. So you didn’t get any. What happened, boyfriend scare you off?”

“You’re mean, just so you know. And no, I didn’t get any.”

Leonard huffs and turns back to his inventory. “Not for lack of trying, I’m sure. Better luck next time, kid. Now leave me alone, I have to work.”

Jim’s whining interrupts him. Again. “But Bones! I’m stressed! Shouldn’t you take care of me, y’know, as my doctor and my best friend?”

“As a doctor I’ll say this: get some food, drink plenty of water, try to work less and take a good night’s sleep. As your friend: stop bothering me and take care of your frustration in the way men do since the beginning of time.”

“You suck. And this sucks!”

Leonard hears a slump and imagines Jim has flopped back onto the bed to stare moodily up to the ceiling. Annoying brat, if he’d just…

“On the bright side, Spock didn’t get any, either.”

… What? Leonard must have misunderstood what Jim declared in a decidedly more chipper voice.

“See, he was talking to that slimy bastard who had his paws all over Spock, and basically was broadcasting ‘sex’ with his entire body, but I went over there and totally stopped them.”

God, no. He doesn’t want to hear about Jim cock-blocking Spock, and he really doesn’t want to think about Spock and sex, ever. His dealings with the Vulcan are strained at best, and he doesn’t need to hear about Spock’s forays into the world of gay sex and Jim is still talking.

“I mean, seriously, this guy was all over Spock, and touching him, and what the hell? I mean Pike told me Spock was barely legal, and he’s probably a virgin, too, and he’s in that bar, chatting up strangers? Who knows what might have happened! I know Spock’s all scary and strong, but what if the guy spiked his drink? And maybe abducted him and forced him to become his sex slave, oh God, and I had to stop it, right?”

Now Jim’s eyes are huge and horrified, he’s breathing heavily as he imagined all the foul things that might have befallen the Vulcan if he hadn’t come to his surely unnecessary rescue. Images of Spock in chains and leather dance through Leonard’s brain, ew, and he curses Jim for putting them there.

“And even if he didn’t, Spock’s all new to sex, and the guy probably would have hurt him and...”

“Gah! Stop talking! I don’t need pictures of Spock hitting on anybody in my head, and I don’t wanna think about Spock with his legs in the air! And stop cock-blocking the man! If the Vulcan wants some sex, he can get it! But don’t you ever tell me about it!” Jim splutters and stares, but Leonard’s on a roll now. “Why the hell do you care anyway? If you’re so worried about Spock sleeping with random strangers, why don’t you go fuck him yourself?”

Jim’s blushing furiously, his mouth opens and closes and he looks like a fish. “I just…”

Jim falls silent and fidgets, face a deep, deep red. Oh God. Oh sweet baby Jesus, not this. He loves the kid, really, with all his heart and almost as much as he loves his daughter, and he thinks he likes Spock, too, at least when the Vulcan doesn’t make Leonard want to punch him, but the two of them, together? Horrible, the image makes his brain bleed.

He turns and leaves, inventory can wait. He ignores the weak “But Bones…” and locks himself inside his office. He needs a large glass of his special medicine to get rid of these pictures.

-----

The celebrations after they finalized the treaty are quite joyful. The Captain has been on his best behavior and indeed, his unique approach of diplomacy has proven exceptionally suited for the negotiations with the Kasychians.

Spock stays near the wall and surveys the large hall. The Kasychians are an intriguing species; they consist of four subspecies and seem to be able to reproduce asexually as well as sexually. He looks forward to studying their biology in a more… intimate setting. He sips his drink and enjoys the way the ceremonial robes they were asked to don feel against his naked skin. The slight breeze from the nearby window makes them flutter over his body in a most stimulating way.

Spock inclines his head to a passing diplomat he encountered earlier during the talks and allows the breeze to part his robes slightly. The diplomat stops and stares at him. His eyes roam Spock’s body and the exposed thigh and Spock feels a small wave of pleasure at the obvious interest in the other’s face.

-----

Their mission went well and his crew has earned itself some relaxing. Jim was happy to accept the High King’s invitation for the feast. The Kasychians are really friendly, the food is great and it’s nice to see everyone happy and smiling. Also, the robes are great, he’s definitely keeping his because his ass looks awesome in them. Bones grumbles a lot, though, stands close to the wall and won’t let go of his robe’s bindings. Jim’s pretty sure that the High Queen gave Bones an unusually short robe, because his ass is showing, and she’s eyeing his friend with a wicked gleam, so he feels kind of bad for all his teasing. He will keep the pictures he took, though.

He gets himself another one of those fruity drinks. They pack quite a punch and he’s got to be careful not to drink too many. But the little umbrellas and olive-y things on sticks are great. He misses Spock, though, they made an awesome team earlier and he’d really like to celebrate together. Where is his Vulcan?

-----

The diplomat has stepped closer and is now looming over him. The Kasychian is almost two feet taller than Spock and he feels somewhat delicate in comparison. Especially when two of the Kasychian’s tentacles wrap themselves around his shoulders while the other four slide over his robe. The cool, slightly damp skin feels pleasant against his own, and the apparent strength of these limbs intrigues him.

Spock allows his head to fall back against the wall and looks up into the other’s face.

“Guardian T’meko.”

“Commander Spock. I am pleased that you seem to be enjoying our planet’s hospitality.”

The Kasychian’s deep voice rumbles in his chest and seems to vibrate trough Spock’s whole body. The lower tentacles grab hold of his robe’s lapels and two of them slip inside to tease over Spock’s belly and legs. He smirks and allows his penis to expand.

“Indeed I am. However, I would not be adverse to learn more about your culture and your people. Maybe in a more… private location?”

One of the tentacles now grasps his penis and wraps firmly around it, one other limb travels around and touches Spock’s entrance. He gasps and his eyes close. He opens them again and lets his own hands explore that firm chest. One wanders further down and encounters the other’s genitals. One eyebrow rises. Very impressive. He gives the shaft a tight squeeze, T’meko moans softly and presses his nose to Spock’s hair.

-----

Oh God, not again. Jim watches with horrified eyes as the Kasychian diplomat who made moon eyes at Spock earlier wraps himself around the Vulcan. T’meko’s tentacles are all over Spock, and even inside his robe, and why is nobody batting an eye? They are basically fucking, right there, and nobody seems to care!

Jim starts to walk over as fast as he possibly can while still retaining some of his dignity as decorated officer of the Federation and also not flashing his ass at anybody. It’s not very fast, and before he reaches the pair, they are gone. No, nononono, this is not happening.

“Bones!”

He knows he’s yelling, and he gets a few surprised faces, but he needs his friend, they have to do something and Bones always helps him and where the hell is Bones, anyway?

-----

“I would like that very much, Commander. If you would follow me, I could show you everything there is to know about us. In order to further the relations between the Federation and our people, of course.”

“Of course.” Spock agrees and allows himself a sigh as T’meko steps back with a last caress to his genitals and posterior.

He straightens up and makes sure the wide robes cover his arousal. One of T’meko’s tentacles curls around his wrist and prods him towards a hallway. Spock is content to let himself be lead from the hall. The Kasychian follows very close, two of his limbs now grasping his wrists while the other roam his back, and suddenly there seems to be a seventh, slimmer… tentacle prodding at the robe covering his behind. Spock shudders and allows himself a moan. Very impressive, indeed.

They come to a locked door, which T’meko opens without letting go of Spock. The seventh “tentacle” has managed to slip inside his robes now and is teasing at his entrance. T’meko’s eyes are dark and intent as he pushes Spock into the room and over onto a conveniently located bed. Spock arches his back and shows the stretch of his lithe body while T’meko impatiently rips at his own robe.

Then his communicator chirps.

-----

The High King obviously didn’t like his wife making doe eyes at Bones, but instead of like banishing her from their chambers or something he threw Bones into his dungeon. Jim was furious and angry and it took Uhura quite some time to translate his swearing into something resembling diplomatic talk. All got cleared up, though, they are back on the ship, treaty still intact and getting the hell out of here before another Kasychian tries to kill his best friend. Apparently saying “hello” to another man’s wife in Kasych means an invitation for adultery.

This is so getting into his report, as soon as he manages to coax Bones out of hiding and Spock stops wanting to kill him. The guards ripped Bones’ robe something fierce, and he had to walk to sickbay in a pretty tiny loincloth. Most of the female crew approved, but Bones was blushing and yelling and refuses to come out of his office before all the pictures taken are deleted.

He knows why Spock is angry, but he refuses to feel sorry for cock-blocking his Vulcan. Spock really shouldn’t let himself be felt up by strange aliens or stroll around barely covered by a see-through cloth and Jim made sure to tell him so. Spock looked murderous, but Jim doesn’t care and disallowed Spock from returning to Kasych to “conclude their diplomatic talks in a more polite way”. Yeah, right.

Spock’s place is next to Jim, or maybe underneath him, but it will be a cold day in hell before Spock agrees to that. So, if Jim can’t get any, Spock won’t get any, simple as that. Also he will never admit that he took pictures of Spock in his robe and watched them quite a lot since Kasych, in bed and behind his desk and even in the shower once.

-----

The last 7.3 weeks have been quite stressful. It has been 10.6 weeks since he last engaged in coitus and Spock finds himself quite… anxious. Neither meditation nor taking the matter into his own hands, so to speak, have any discernible amount of effect in calming him and his… mood is starting to affect his behavior. Even the Doctor seems somewhat pleasing to Spock’s eyes now, which is clearly a sign that he should seek immediate solution for his problem.

They have been ordered to help with an outbreak of Carrion Fever on Thetis. Before travelling to this planet they were directed to Starbase 17 where they are to stock up on supplies and retrieve vaccines. This procedure will surely last several hours, if not a whole day and the Captain has granted permission for every interested crewmember to visit the base. Spock will use this opportunity and seek company. And this time, he will succeed.

-----

Spock enters the bar and is instantly approached by two Cardassians. He politely declines their invitation and walks towards the bar. After all, one should always survey all available merchandise before picking the optimal one. And the merchandise offered in this establishment looks very promising, indeed.

Spock is content to sip his water and watch, for now. He has time. The Captain is safely engaged in his dinner with the Doctor and will not be here to interrupt Spock again.

-----

Dinner is great. And Starfleet is great. And Bones is great, and his crew and his life are great. And these drinks are great! All pink and pretty. He wants another one.

“Kid, I think you had enough.”

“Nooo! There’s never enough, only too much.”

“That… made pretty much no sense at all.”

“Bones! My friend. You’re my best friend, you know?”

“I know, kid, I know.”

Jim tries to pat Bones’ hand but somehow ends up patting his forehead. Well, the intention counts. Yay! The barkeeper brings a new round. These drinks are awesome. And Bones is awesome!

“You’re my best friend in the whole universe. You’re awesome, you know? And I’m not just saying that. You’re smart and cute and prickly and all soft and squishy on the inside, and…”

“Stop! I get it. … Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” Jim beams. Bones understands him. “You understand me, Bones, and you’re my friend.”

“I know. You think maybe we should take a walk? You look like you could use some air.”

“Okay. But I don’t need air. I need Spock, you know? Although Spock is like air, kind of. All silent and you think it’s gentle and weak, and then he blows you away like…”

“Oh God, not this again.”

“… like a storm. Yeah, a thunderstorm, with thunder and lightning and Spock is awesome, you know? And I need him. Bones, I need him and where is he?”

“I don’t know, Jim, I don’t know and I don’t wanna know, he’s probably in some gay bar or having unemotional robot-sex with random strangers, and I really don’t wanna think about it.”

“What? No! He can’t be! I need him! He can’t go hook up with somebody else, he should hook up with me! I have to find him. Computer, locate Commander Spock!”

“Commander Spock is currently located at the “Hole-in-one”, deck 13 quadrant 6.”

“Let’s go, Bones! We have to find Spock! Come on come on come on!”

“… I really shouldn’t have said that.”

-----

Spock does not know whom to choose. The Klingon is a strong possibility. Spock has never engaged in coitus with a member of this species, but their strength and obvious masculinity have always fascinated him, as have the rumors about their remarkable stamina. On the other hand, the Orion’s experience as proven by the intriguing suggestions whispered in his ear is similarly exciting. Hmm. So many choices.

His musings are interrupted by an unfamiliar hand on his posterior. Spock turns and looks at the person attached to it. Paw would be a more appropriate term for the appendage which is now caressing him. A Gerian, or “Bear-man”. How interesting. Spock allows himself to be drawn closer to the other. The Gerian smiles, showing sharp fangs, and growls playfully. Spock opens his mouth and shows his own teeth. Clearly he remembered his lesson about Gerian customs correctly, this is indeed the proper way to show sexual interest, as is proven by the sudden erection pressed against his tigh. Spock bares his neck and is rewarded by another growl. He smiles inwardly. He leaves his arms at his sides, aware that a submissive pose is most arousing to Gerians. The “Bear-man” clearly approves and starts roaming his paws over Spock’s upper body. The carefully trimmed claws drag delightfully against cloth and skin and Spock shudders in pleasure. It seems like he made his decision.

Suddenly there are four paws petting him. Spock turns his head and finds another Gerian at his back. One in front, one behind, both Gerians are pressed close and stroking him, their growls sending shivers up Spock’s spine. The soft fur feels most pleasant against his skin, and the faint red welts rising behind their claws feel tight and hot. Clearly, this has been the right choice.

-----

Leonard is panting. Jim can be goddamned fast if he wants to be, and he seems to think he has a pretty good reason for running. Leonard doesn’t want to think about this reason or what Jim’s about to do, but he feels obliged to follow the kid. Probably will injure himself on someone’s fist sooner rather than later, although Leonard is still undecided whether Spock will punch Jim, or his thwarted one-night-stand, or maybe if he’s gonna hit the kid himself if the idiot won’t stop right now. Still, Jim runs in an amazingly straight line for being that drunk.

They come up to the stupid bar, and the god-awful pun that is its name is flashing at them in neon brightness. Leonard does not want to go in there, not the least bit, but Jim’s racing straight towards the door.

Which opens and releases Spock. Thank God.

Wait. Oh no. There are two furry… things with the Vulcan, standing close, and, oh God, their paws on Spock’s ass and his eyes are gonna bleed. And Jim, stupid idiot that he is, is running up to them and, hell, throws his arms around Spock.

The Vulcan staggers back, nearly bowled down by his sudden appendage, arms rising instinctively to catch Jim before the idiot makes them both fall over. The… bears stop and stare. Leonard finally manages to catch up to the group, arriving just in time to hear Jim’s pathetic whining.

“… looked all over for you, Spock! I missed you and wow, you’re hot. And strong. And hot. Where have you been?”

Spock is trying to untangle himself, but to no avail. Jim’s octopus arms are clamped securely around the Vulcan’s neck, like a vice. Leonard thinks it’s hilarious, especially since Spock is scowling at Jim and at the same time trying to shoot the bear-things apologetic looks.

“Captain. Remove yourself from my person right this instant.”

“Dun wanna. You’re warm. I missed you. Who are those people?”

Now Jim’s glaring at the bear-things, who are tall and mean-looking and have fangs, for God’s sake, and the kid has the survival instinct of a mayfly. Leonard hurries closer and puts himself between his idiot captain and the two aliens. He gives them his most vicious glare and hopes as hell they’re not starting a fight.

They don’t. Leonard wants to think it was his scowl that made them leave, but it’s more likely Jim throwing up all over the floor did the trick.

He and Spock haul Jim’s ass back to the Enterprise, where Leonard finds out that Jim wasn’t actually drunk, but had an allergic reaction to one of the fruits in his pretty pink drinks. He shoves a couple of hypos into the kid’s neck and is content to leave him to deal with his nausea – he’s earned that – and Spock. The Vulcan was pretty annoyed at first and accused Jim of “faking sickness in order to disturb my recreational ventures”, but his anger quickly turned into worry when Jim started convulsing.

It’s kinda sweet, really, Spock sitting next to his captain, prim and proper, distracting him from nausea with chess and tales about his childhood pet – any minute now they’re gonna start braiding each other’s hair. Or, it would be sweet if the view wouldn’t make Leonard gag from all the doe eyes Jim is giving the Vulcan.

-----

Nyota loves Spock, she really does. Even if it didn’t work out between them – and she could kick herself for not noticing earlier that the Vulcan looked at shapely behinds way more than at shapely bosoms – they are still friends, and very close ones at that. They talk about their problems and family and guys, Spock even goes shopping with her for goodness sake. Still, if one more Ensign comes running to her because the Commander kicked his puppy or something, she’ll have to kill Spock.

So, she strides along the corridor, ponytail swinging, long legs stretching with each wide step. She knows she’s hot, thank you, and Spock himself told her that she looks “especially appealing when moved by irritation or anger”. Well, in about ten seconds he’ll get to see that appeal up close and personal.

Nyota buzzes his room and taps her foot impatiently until the Vulcan opens. Spock inclines his head and opens his mouth for a greeting, but Nyota won’t have that. She’s on a roll, and that smooth velvety voice won’t break her stride. She breezes past him, ignoring the raised eyebrow and stands in the middle of his room, arms crossed and glaring.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

 “At this moment, I am standing here looking at you. If you are referring to anything else I might be doing at any point during the day, you will have to provide a more detailed query.”

“Don’t give me that! Denise Shusha came to me, crying, because you told her she obviously got her degree at the lottery?”

Spock looks rather taken aback at that. “I said no such thing.”

“You know what I mean! This is the sixth time I had to deal with Ensigns you made cry, Spock, and it’s getting kind of boring. What the hell is your problem?”

Spock opens his mouth and closes it again. Nyota glares at him until he nods.  “Very well. If you would like to sit?”

She doesn’t. “Tell me, Spock. What’s up with you? I know you work a lot, but this has to stop. It’s obvious you’re stressed, but you can’t take that out on the crew.”

Spock clears his throat. “You are correct, of course. I will apologize to the crew members in question and in the future attempt to exercise more restraint in my dealings with them.”

“Good.” Nyota glares a little more until Spock looks suitably abashed, only then she deigns to sit. Spock makes her some tea and they relax on the couch.

“Seriously, what’s up? I’ve never seen you so keyed-up and stressed, not even during finals. Are you meditating enough?”

“Medidation has proven unhelpful in this situation. And during finals I procured… different means of relaxation.”

“What do you mean?”

If she didn’t now Spock better, Nyota would say he fidgets. “You are, of course, aware of my preference for males.”

“Right.”

“On Earth it has been simple to obtain companionship, for… recreational purposes.”

Oh. Oooh. Right.

“Since my posting aboard this vessel, however it has proven decidedly more difficult to encounter such company. Therefore, I find myself somewhat… agitated.”

“I get it. You obviously can’t sleep with anyone under your command, but what about shore leave? We’re constantly visiting other planets, surely there must have been some way for you to hook up with somebody?”

“Indeed. I have tried several times to ‘hook up’, as you call it, but all my attempts were thwarted. The Captain has an uncanny ability to always need help at the most untimely moments.”

Wait, what? “Are you saying that James T. Kirk stopped you from seducing random strangers? Every time?”

“I would not phrase it in such a way, but essentially you are correct.”

Jesus. She can’t believe it. Jim cock-blocking the Vulcan, that’s hilarious. Clearly Kirk has a death wish. Or maybe he’s jealous. Hey, that’s it! Kirk is always cranky and moody after shore-leave. He’s jealous! He wants Spock all for himself! Oh, this is perfect. Suddenly, she’s neither angry at Spock nor worried about him, but feels decidedly cheerful, and maybe a little wicked.

She puts her tea cup away and pats Spock’s knee.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you! It would be a surprise if we didn’t find you a nice guy tonight. Come with me! You’re going to put on the most sexy outfit we can manage and go blow everyone’s mind.”

Spock stands and straightens his uniform. “You are beautiful and intelligent as well as kind, Nyota. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

“No problem, Spock! I bought you a very nice pair of fake-leather pants last shore-leave. They were meant for your birthday, but clearly this is a special occasion that needs some very tight pants. I’ll call Gaila over, too, she is an artist with eye-liner.”

Spock raises an intrigued eyebrow and follows her. Nyota can’t wait to see how he’ll look. And Kirk’s face will be great.

-----

 Spock is standing in front of Nyota’s mirror. He turns this way and that, checking the fitting of his tight, tight fake-leather pants and the black muscle shirt. Nyota has to fan herself a little, because Spock looks hot. Dressed all in black, shirt showing off his muscular shoulders and the slender neck, pants clinging to his firm thighs, knee-length boots emphasizing his long legs. The pants look like they are painted on, and it’s obvious Spock wears nothing underneath. Spock’s hair has been artfully tousled by Nyota’s expert hands, a hint of glitter is dusted high on his cheeks and his eyes, God. Those long lashes, and the eye-liner makes them seem even darker, fathomless black pits, like you could drown in them and never see the sun again. Yeah, Spock is smoking hot, and it’s totally unfair that this guy’s not into girls.

“Wow.”

“Hell yes. Spock, you look gorgeous. Sure you don’t wanna hook up with me? I have a strap-on. It’s purple.”

“Thank you, Gaila, for you offer, but I must decline. However talented you undoubtedly are with this sexual aid, I myself have a distinct preference for living flesh.”

“Too bad. It would’ve been so hot.”

Gaila pouts a little. Spock raises an indulgent eyebrow at her and turns back to the mirror. He and Gaila have gotten quite close, a surprise to most people who assume a Vulcan and a Orion could never be friends. They share a lot of experiences, though, have bonded over being the only member of their species serving in Starfleet and the difficulties that came with it, and also over the fact that they share a mutual dislike for underwear. Nyota is happy for them, neither of the two has all that many real friends, and their easy camaraderie is a delight. Gaila makes inappropriate comments and propositions Spock at every opportunity, he retaliates with his dry and quirky humor. It’s amazing and sweet and she’s never laughed as much as in their company.

“So, we’re ready? Let’s go!” Gaila hops up from the couch, hair floating around her head like a fiery cloud. Her obvious excitement is infecting, and Nyota suddenly wants to jump around like she does. She won’t, though, someone has to stay responsible. Plus, she has plans.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Gaila, are you sure you are ready to leave? You appear to be wearing underwear, this time, but you seem to have forgotten the rest of your attire.”

“No, I haven’t, it’s supposed to look like that. Isn’t it great? This bra makes my boobs look enormous.”

“Indeed. One might think you were desperate for a male’s attention.”

Nyota laughs, Spock quirks an eyebrow and even Gaila sniggers. Nyota stands and beckons Spock. “Zip my dress for me?”

Spock does, and when she turns around he grasps her hand for a moment and touches it softly to his lips. “Thank you, Nyota. It is an honor to be your friend.”

She’s blushing, furiously, and has to clear her throat. Spock hasn’t let go of her hand, yet, and she turns it and presses her palm briefly against his face. “It’s an honor for me, too.”

“What about me?”

Gaila interrupts the tender moment, and Nyota’s glad for it, before she bursts into tears. Also her make-up would never survive it.

Spock lets go of her hand and bows briefly towards the Orion. Nyota marvels how he’s able to bend over in those pants, but his ass looks great like that.

“Forgive me, dear Gaila. I cherish our friendship, as well. You are much like the sister I never had, if one disregards your constant invitations for intercourse.”

Gaila beams at the compliment. “Why thank you, Mr. Spock! Whoever said that Vulcans had no idea of sweet-talk clearly didn’t know them.”

Spock gives her his Vulcan smile and gallantly offers his arms to both women. “Shall we?”

-----

Writing reports is boring as hell. Jim eyes the mountain-high stack in his in-box and then the three lonely PADDs in his out-box. Jesus, so much work to do. Whoever said that being the Captain of a starship was all fun and games and exploring and meeting strange new cultures clearly didn’t know about the avalanche of paperwork that comes with this job. Or was a terrible liar.

Jim sighs and thumps his head against his desk. This sucks. He had to decline Sulu’s invitation go surfing, because he’s the Captain and the Captain finishes his paperwork on time. The Captain is adult and responsible and won’t go on shore leave before this whole mountain of reports is dealt with. The Captain says no to shore leave, to sandy beaches and blue oceans and awesome waves and pretty pink drinks… Yeah, the Captain is responsible and won’t leave this room as long as there’s still a single PADD left in his in-box.

He decides to go annoy Bones.

-----

Turns out Bones isn’t in sickbay. Jim pouts a little, but it’s no fun if no one’s here to see it. What now? Visiting Spock is out of the question, since yesterday he’s somehow managed to insult the Vulcan by asking if rubbing his hands was the Vulcan equivalent of masturbation. He was simply curious! Vulcan sexuality is fascinating, hell, everything about Spock is fascinating, but his First clearly didn’t appreciate his interest. He unceremoniously threw Jim out of his lab and made it very clear that “any further attempt to offend my sensibilities will result in bodily harm”. But seriously, how will he ever learn that stuff if he can’t ask Spock?

So, Spock is out. He’d probably kick Jim in the mouth if he were to interrupt his experiments again, so maybe he’ll wander over to engineering. Maybe Bones is there, flirting with the cute Ensign again, or Scotty has some fun idea for the replicators.

He gallantly steps back and lets Chapel exit the door first, and smirks when she blushes. Yeah, he’s still got it. He walks slowly behind her, admiring her hips and legs. She’s very pretty, but somehow he wishes she were taller and leaner, with short dark hair and slender hips, and pointed ears… Whoa. No thinking about Spock. Especially not in public, where everybody can see the bulge in your trousers. He sighs and trots on. God, he hopes Bones still has something of that delicious peach schnapps.

Further along the corridor Chapel slows down and turns her head. She looks in Jim’s direction and her eyes get huge. She’s blushing, furiously, mouth gaping, and Jesus, he knew thinking about Spock was a mistake! Now she’s seen his hard-on and he’ll never live it down! She’s gaping and staring, and wait. She’s not looking at Jim, she’s looking at something behind him.

Jim turns and suddenly feels quite faint. Distantly he hears a silent “thud”, which must have been Chapel running into a wall. He can relate, because what he sees makes him want to bang his head against something as well.

“Guh.”

“Greetings, Captain.”

“Hello, Kirk.”

“Hi Jimmy!”

He knows he’s staring, and he knows they know he’s staring, but he can’t stop, can’t tear his eyes away. Gaila in nothing more than a bra and panties and Nyota in a short, short dress that shows off her insanely long legs are just blurry images at the edges of his vision, which has narrowed into a tunnel, centered on the person in the middle of the corridor. This can’t be Spock, his prim and proper and correct Vulcan, it can’t be, and yet, it is.

Spock is dressed completely in black, leather pants and, God, a muscle shirt, and his hair looks as if he just crawled from someone’s bed. It’s awful and horrible, and fantastic and unbelievable. Spock looks like a wet dream, he looks like Jim’s wet dream - he looks like sex. Jim feels hot and flushed, is achingly hard just from seeing his Vulcan like that, dick straining against his pants and he swallows and swallows. He wants to yank the Vulcan to the floor and lick him all over, put his tongue on those pants and smell Spock’s arousal, and bite his thighs and stick his nose in his armpits, and God, he wants.

Someone is talking. It takes an enormous amount of effort to rip his eyes away from the phenomenon that is Spock in leather pants and focus on Gaila.

“… doesn’t he look hot? Ny and I picked out his outfit, and he looks gorgeous, don’t you think? I bet they are gonna fall all over themselves to get a piece of that.”

Jim can’t breathe and his lust-addled brain takes its sweet time to decipher her meaning. Spock gives him the sassy eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Jim’s no doubt ridiculous gaping face.

“Anyway, we gotta go, clubs are waiting! See you, Jimmy!”

Wait, what? Gaila starts dragging Spock away, who gives him a nod, a snobbish “Captain” and a decidedly evil smirk in parting. Jim’s mouth opens and closes, in his head he’s screaming, but no sound comes out. He stares after them, transfixed by Spock’s legs and ass, moving and shifting in those tight pants and gapes like a fish, and listens to Gaila’s excited chatter of “See? You look totally hot. Even the Captain couldn’t take his eyes off you!”

Oh God, this is terrible. Jim’s throat works, he wants to yell at Spock to come back, right this instant, and put on a bath robe or something, because he’s walking through this ship, beaming down to Earth to go in God knows what clubs and everybody will see Spock in leather pants, and how will he ever be able to seduce Spock if his Vulcan will get molested where he stands? But only a faint wheezing noise leaves his mouth and his legs seem to have turned to jelly.

Uhura takes his chin and turns his head back towards her.

“Are you okay, Captain?” Her smile is wicked, evil, and her beautiful Amazon eyes are glowing with suppressed mirth.

“Guh?”

“I guess that means ‘yes’. Well, you heard her, we’re going clubbing. Spock was a little lonely these last days, but with the way he looks, he won’t have any trouble finding company tonight, don’t you think? Bye, Jim, and have fun with that paperwork!”

She looks at his crotch, gives him a saucy wink and an evil smirk and sashays away. Jim is still standing there gaping. She’s already turned a corner before he manages to shake himself from his stupor. 

This is all Uhura’s fault, she’s an evil witch, she’s the devil. She put Spock in leather pants, and eyeliner for God’s sake, and now Spock is gone, prancing around in an outfit that even a saint couldn’t resist.

Bones. He needs Bones. Spock is gonna get sodomized any minute now, and they have to stop it. Jim starts running awkwardly, slightly hindered by his persistent erection, and yells for the Computer to locate his best friend.

-----

As soon as they have entered the club, Nyota gives Spock a wink, hits him firmly on his behind and follows Gaila towards the dance floor. Spock inclines his head gratefully, as much as he enjoys the two ladies’ attention, it might prove difficult to obtain companionship if it seemed he already were spoken for. Another hand slaps his posterior, and he gives the doorman a slight smile. The human is very handsome, but since he is busy guarding the entrance, it is unlikely that he will be able to leave his post tonight. Therefore, Spock turns and starts circling the room.

This evening has started most agreeably. The doorman is not the only male watching Spock. He is very aware of the stares his current attire provokes. He delights in the attention, the bodies pressing close, the trailing hands and fleeting touches to his rear and genital region. Fingers squeeze his cheeks and dip briefly into the barely visible valley between them, and he decides to acquire adequate gifts for Nyota and Gaila in the morning as thanks for helping him earlier this evening. Perhaps the exquisite satin nightdresses they both admired on their last visit to Earth?

He lowers his mind’s shields a little, in order to bask fully in the attention his entrance garners. This night will be most pleasurable.

-----

Leonard was pretty annoyed at first when Jim came in and interrupted him just when he was asking Amelia out for dinner. Stupid kid with awful timing, and scaring the pretty Ensign off before she could answer him. He yelled a little, and then became worried, because the kid was panting and wheezing, flushed a deep red and couldn’t stand up straight. He pulled out his scanner and was about to put it to good use, and maybe a few hypos, too, just in case ‘cause God knows Jim is unable to take care of himself and gets sick if, like, an ant sneezes. As soon as he realized what the problem was, Leonard was back to annoyed.

Now he’s rapidly approaching furious, because Jim is pulling him bodily along, and Leonard can drag his feet and stomp the floor and yell and argue as much as he wants, the kid won’t let him go. Goddammit, why in hell is Jim always dragging him in situations like these?

“Bones, move faster! We gotta find them!”

“I don’t want to find them! I was perfectly happy back on the ship, I don’t need this! I don’t need to see Spock in leather pants and glitter and makeup, and I hate you for telling me about it! My brain will never recover! Let me go!”

“Come on, Bones, move!”

“You’re not even listening! Leave me alone, you stupid cock-blocking idiot!”

Jim ignores him and drags him further along the street. By the way, how does he know where he’s going? And when in hell did he get this strong?

“It should be somewhere… there! There it is! Gaila told me about this club, I bet this is where they went! Come on Bones, we have to stop them!”

“I DON’T WANT TO! Let me go, you fucker! I don’t wanna go in there, I wanna go home to my sickbay! Where there are normal people, who aren’t obsessing about Vulcans in fuck-me clothes! I…”

Jim still won’t listen to a word he’s saying, and now they are coming up to the door, there’s a neon sign of two mars symbols, the arrow on one of them twisted through the other’s circle, and he really doesn’t want to go in there. He tries again to rip his hand away, but Jim’s fingers are clamped securely around his wrist. He’s trapped, and the bouncer gives them a saucy wink and appreciative grin. Then he slaps Leonard’s ass and rumbles “Hey there, cutie”, and Leonard’s shocked enough that Jim is able to drag him inside.

This is gonna be an awful night.

-----

“Spock.”

“Stonn.”

Spock raises two eyebrows at the sight of his childhood acquaintance. This is quite a surprise. If he had ever thought about the Vulcan who has tormented him in school he would have imagined Stonn was busy aiding the colony, married to a very Vulcan wife and producing very Vulcan children. Yet, Stonn is on Earth, visiting this establishment. And his eyes are travelling all over Spock’s body. Yes, very surprising.

“Your attire seems to suggest you are looking for a possible mate. Would you be willing to engage in sexual congress this night?”

Spock’s eyebrows climb even higher. He thought that of all his fellow Vulcans, Stonn would be the last to engage in the Terran tradition of ‘one-night-stands’, and that he would be interested in doing so with Spock, whom he has tormented for his human blood on hundreds of occasions, is quite shocking. Although, now that Spock thinks about it, maybe not that much. Nyota has explained the strange concept of ‘pulling one’s pigtails’ to him, it seems like this expression might be an adequate description of what Stonn has made him endure during their childhood.

Spock gives the other Vulcan a smile, slightly larger than his usual “Vulcan smile”, as Nyota calls it, and is gratified to see Stonn drawing a sharp breath. It seems his earlier assumption was correct and Stonn indeed is aroused by Spock's display of his human side. Feeling reckless, he turns and presses his back to the other’s body. He can feel Stonn’s arousal expanding against the seat of his pants, and when he turns his head and closes his teeth over the Vulcan’s earlobe, Stonn can barely suppress a moan. Spock is pleased.

“I would indeed be willing to engage in sexual congress. But not with you. As humans say, not even if you were the last person on Earth.”

Spock removes himself from Stonn’s arms and steps back. He gives the other a smirk, turns, and walks away. He makes sure to increase the radius of his hips’ rotation, and when he looks back after a few steps, Stonn is still standing, mouth slightly open and a furious green blush on his cheeks. Then he gathers the shreds of his dignity and moves quickly towards the exit. The laughter of the humans surrounding him who have witnessed their encounter ensures Stonn will never forget the lesson Spock has taught him tonight.

-----

Jim still hasn’t let go of Leonard’s hand and he’d kinda glad for it if it didn’t feel like being clamped in a vice. He didn’t wanna come here, but he sure as hell doesn’t wanna be here alone. It’s dark and hot, scantily clad people are pressing close, and Leonard is a little scared to get lost in the mass of sweating flesh. Who knows what kinds of venereal diseases he might come out with?

Jim’s winding through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor, Leonard can barely keep up. His right hand is being crushed, he’s sweating, he’s got Goddammed glitter in his eyes, and apparently, he’s going to cock-block a Vulcan. His life sucks.

They come to the bar, it’s no less packed here, but at least people are only standing instead of grinding against each other. Leonard desperately wants a drink to hide himself behind, but he sure as hell won’t try to breach the wall of flesh surrounding the bar. Jim is still holding his hand and looks around anxiously.

“Can you see them? They gotta be here somewhere. I don’t see them, do you?”

Leonard grumbles and glares at him, but looks around. The sooner they find that pointy-eared, sexually frustrated Vulcan prick, the sooner they can leave.

And there he is, Spock the uptight Vulcan, in all his leather-clad glory, talking to another Vulcan, pressing against him and grinding his hips, and Leonard wants to look away, but he can’t, it’s like an accident, it’s horrible and disgusting but you still watch.

He opens his mouth, only a garbled sound emerges, but it’s enough to alert Jim.

“What? Do you see them? Where?”

The kid looks over and starts moaning. “God, no, not a Vulcan! They’ll be a logical and stuff, having awesome mind-blowing sex, and I told you about the mindgasms, right?”

Yeah, and Leonard hates that fateful day. Jim’s eyes are wide and desperate, mouth working, hands clutched dramatically over his heart. At least he’s let go of Leonard, though.

“This is horrible, so so horrible. We have to stop them!”

No, they don’t. They have to go back to the ship, where Leonard can pour bleach in his eyes.

“Wait! Bones, do you see that? Spock left! Spock left and the Vulcan is all alone, and see, now he’s leaving, too, but by himself! Spock didn’t like him! Oh, this is great!”

Jim grabs Leonard by the shoulders and shakes him, grinning widely. “Awesome! See, Spock didn’t want him! That Vulcan bastard wasn’t good enough for him!”

Leonard frees himself and scowls at Jim. “Congratu-fucking-lations. So your Vulcan bastard is a picky bastard. He’s still gonna find someone else.”

Oh no. He really should not have said that.

Jim – wails. “No! He can’t! Where is he? I have to find him!”

And he’s gone. Leonard stands alone, the only straight guy in a gay club, surrounded by people staring at him and winking, and his Captain, who dragged him here in the first place, is nowhere in sight. Leonard hates his life.

Strong fingers pinch his ass. He squeaks and jumps about a mile high. He turns – a Klingon is leering at him.

“Hello, little human. You look lonely.”

Oh God. He retreats and bumps against another Klingon.

“Are you shy, little human? How about we take you back to our place and show you some fun, hm?”

Suddenly a flash of green skin zooms across his vision and he finds his arms full of Gaila.

“Lenny! So glad you could make it! Come on, Ny is waiting for you!”

Gaila proceeds to drag him away, glaring at the disappointed Klingons. Leonard follows in a daze, clutching her hand tightly. He’s never loved her more than in this moment, and as soon as he’s safe with her and Nyota, he’ll pay for all their drinks and listen to all her girly talk without complaining.

“… Ny and I rented a hotel room for some fun, later on. Wanna join? The cute Betazoid Ny was talking to earlier wasn’t into a threesome, or girls, and you’re pretty.”

Or he’ll do that.

-----

One of the humans who have witnessed his encounter with Stonn accosts him mere minutes later. He is obviously impressed by Spock’s dealing with the Vulcan and compliments his wit. Comments about his quick tongue soon turns into speculations about which other uses his mouth might be good at. The human looks pleasing enough, and his rather crude language is balanced by his obvious nervousness at the sight of Spock. Gary’s hands flutter around like nervous birds, constantly reaching for Spock and withdrawing hesitantly, the human clearly is afraid to touch him. But as Spock lowers his head and gazes at Gary through his lashes, the hands become bolder and soon Spock finds himself pressed against delightfully firm human flesh. This might be interesting. He makes sure to make his pose as submissive as possible, carefully touching the other’s strong chest and broad shoulders, and Gary gives him a wide grin and squeezes him tighter. He has no interest in the human’s chatter about Starfleet and his encounters with Vulcans, but Gary’s hands are big and firm, his eyes a familiar blue and his blond hair looks pleasing.

Suddenly Spock is being yanked out of the human’s embrace and tugged against another hard chest. Strong arms surround his waist and a hot mouth speaks directly next to his ear.

“Fuck off, Wilkins.”

The Captain. Of course. Who seems to know his admirer and is now glaring at him. Spock tries to untangle himself from his Captain’s arms, and has to use a considerable amount of strength to break free. The Captain reluctantly lets him go and moves in front of him. Apparently he is still glaring at Gary, because the other opens his mouth and complains.

“What, Jimmy? Jealous?”

“Leave Spock alone, Wilkins! He’s not yours!”

“I don’t see a sign on him, Jimmy, do you?”

Spock draws himself up to his full height. He is neither a hapless female nor is he anyone’s property. He will not allow any human, not even the Captain, to treat him as if he were. But the Captain ignores him. Instead he balls a fist and hits the other human. Hard. Spock blinks.

“Now fuck off and leave us alone!”

Gary retreats with much grumbling and glaring, holding his nose. Kirk looks after him and shakes his hand. Also he seems to be using his body to shield Spock from the surrounding spectators.

“What a fucker.”

“Captain. I firmly protest your behavior. Such violence is neither befitting a Starfleet officer nor was it appropriate. Also, I have no need of such interference, since I am fully capable of defending myself, should the need arise, and this situation was in no way offensive or threatening to me, since I myself… Is your hand all right?”

Kirk’s face has drawn into a strained expression at Spock’s lecture, and now he gives a pained grin and a half-hearted shrug. “I maybe hurt it on this asshole’s face?”

 “Clearly this is your own fault.” Spock huffs a breath and looks towards the bar. He will be able to obtain an ice-pack of some sorts there, because obviously his Captain cannot be left to fend for himself. “Follow me. I will procure some matter of cooling.”

“Na, don’t worry. Bones is around here somewhere, he’ll fix it right up.”

“Indeed. The good doctor’s attention and kind words will surely be the most fitting treatment for your condition, Captain.”

“Right. So…whatcha doing, Spock?”

Spock is drawing breath to answer with some amount of sarcasm, when an image appears in his mind.

Spock is bent over a table, strong hands grips his wrists tightly. They are pressed against the small of his back, he struggles but can’t break free. A hot body covers his, wet tongue lapping at his neck, sharp teeth closing over his pinna. A heavy erection trails precome over his naked ass, and a rough voice whispers filthy promises in his ear.

“If you will excuse me, I must leave at once.”

Spock ignores his spluttering Captain and moves quickly across the room. In his mind a flame burns, scorching him, drawing him closer and closer towards the back of the bar. The other is calling him, his desire a fiery line in Spock’s mind, like a moth to the flame and Spock shudders in delight. A Betazoid. Perfect.

-----

Jim gapes after the Vulcan. Spock didn’t even listen to him! He had prepared an amazing speech about the dangers of hooking up with strangers and the benefits of monogamy, and also was ready to tell the Vulcan he kinda liked him, and Spock just left. Didn’t get him his ice-pack, either, and now he’s alone and Spock is gone and he doesn’t know where Bones is and his hand hurts. He’d really like to curl up on the floor and cry a little maybe, but he’s James Tiberius Kirk and won’t be stopped by little details like a bruised hand or missing best friends who were supposed to help him or the fact that Spock has left him again, to probably go wank in the bathroom or bend over for those two Klingons that gave him the eye earlier. Also, his inner voice is rambling.

This has to stop. Spock is his, dammit, no one else will ever put their slimy hands on his Vulcan again, no one else will ever get to see Spock in eye-liner and tight pants, Jim will make sure of that. And if he has to drag the Vulcan back to the ship by his hair, he won’t take another minute of this. He’ll tie Spock up and lock him away, if that’s what it takes to make sure the Vulcan won’t try to seduce random strangers ever again.

Jim straightens to his full captainly height and goes looking for his Vulcan.

-----

Spock is on his hands and knees, wrists tied securely to the bed frame, ass high in the air. An unfamiliar ring surrounds the base of his penis, prohibiting ejaculation, and a thick plastic plug rubs over his prostate with every move he makes. A sharp sound penetrates the air and Spock shudders when the cane hits his ass. With the blindfold covering his eyes he has no way to anticipate when or where the next hit will fall, the suspense adds to his arousal. Until his penis feels heavy and full. It jerks when the cane falls again and Spock moans in abandon.

Spock’s step falters. His penis has expanded and risen, his nipples have drawn up tight. He feels hot and flushed, waves of arousal consume his body, some of it his own, but most belonging to the Betazoid. He is nearing the source of these projections.

-----

Over there! Spock’s still walking purposefully away from him, but now he seems to stagger. Maybe he’s sick? That would totally excuse why he left in such a hurry. Jim’ll take him back to the ship, tuck him in and take real good care of him. Maybe some vegetable broth or something. But first, he has to catch him.

-----

The Betazoid is smirking at him. Spock inclines his head in greeting. Talking is superfluous; the Betazoid clearly agrees and shoves Spock against the wall. Spock gasps as wicked teeth worry his neck, the other’s sharp desire tingles across his skin.

“So, I take it you liked that? Didn’t you, little Vulcan?”

“Y-yes.” He stutters and thrusts his pelvis against the other.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Spock gives his own smirk and projects images of how he stretched himself open before leaving the ship, one finger, and two, and three, and four, how he made sure his entrance was relaxed and slick for tonight. The Betazoid moans, loudly, his arousal surges further and Spock is pleased. He lets his hand be taken and follows the Betazoid towards the entrance.

-----

Devin loves Earth. He came here for a visit to the human part of his family and maybe a little R&R, and what does he find? A Vulcan. An insanely hot Vulcan at that, with long legs and pretty face and a tight little ass. A horny Vulcan, who grinds against him and looks at him with these gorgeous eyes, who has pretty pouty lips and oh, those hips. Devin’s glad his hotel is close by, the Vulcan will look gorgeous bent over the bed, and he can’t wait to sink into that sweet ass.

He pulls the Vulcan along, the other’s arousal strumming along his veins and increasing his own lust. This is gonna be so good. A couple of guys whistle and cheer when they see them, and Devin grins back. Yeah, he bagged that, and tonight is gonna be stuff for legends.

A cute human steps in the way and Devin gives him a saucy wink. Another night he would hit that like burning, but tonight he’s got his hands full. The cute blonde, however, stops directly in Devin’s path and glares at him.

Suddenly he feels like he’s been hit with a mountain. Anger and rage and boiling black jealousy surge through him, he lets go of the Vulcan and staggers back. The blonde is coming closer and Devin retreats further, clutching his head because the other’s mind is a bright flame, threatening to consume him, his anger hurts. He clutches his head, eyes tearing up, face twisted into a grimace, twitching in agony. People start staring, he sees it through water-filled eyes, the human is glaring and pouring of waves of such rage that Devin nearly gags with their force.

“I didn’t know he was taken!” he manages, voice a strained whisper, and flees.

He’ll never make fun of Great Aunt Lola again, because she’s completely right. Humans are possessive like fuck.

-----

Jim glares after the Betazoid. People are staring and whispering, pointing at him and muttering. Apparently he’s famous now, since he already had to cock-block Spock twice tonight. Good riddance, too, first that fucker Wilkins and now that Betazoid with his stupid mindpowers and stupid orgasms in their heads. Spock is his, dammit!

Speaking of which, a vice-like hand clamps around his wrist and he is being dragged away. Uh-oh.

He stumbles after Spock, almost pulled of his feet by the strength his Vulcan doesn’t care to hide, and runs almost flat into a door before Spock yanks him into a back room and shoves him towards a wall. Jim puts his hands out just in time to avoid bashing his head in.

Spock looks absolutely furious. His eyebrows are drawn together, his dark, dark eyes are blazing and his arms are crossed, his fists balled and knuckles white as if he has to prevent himself from hitting Jim. Spock looks gorgeous, and Jim stares helplessly.

“Captain. I have been exceptionally patient with you these past weeks. However, my patience has its limits. I will not allow your klotaya t’guv-tvi-rivak to continue.”

Irk. Spock’s voice is dark and angry. And he’s bringing out the Vulcan words, which means he’s real pissed.

“You will explain yourself to me, now. Why do you keep interrupting my search for entertainment? This ertaya t’tizh’es can go no further! Aitlu abrukhausu, and you keep thwarting my attempts to find an appropriate candidate! Lok nemut, I name you! James T. Kirk, desist your behavior, because you are making it impossible for me to find my release under the hands of another!”

Jesus. Spock’s breathing heavily, nostrils flaring wide, and he’s never looked hotter. Jim’s dick is standing at attention and he can barely keep from pouncing on Spock, right now. He only got a part of what the Vulcan was saying, but the essential stuff came out loud and clear.

Jim takes a step forward and puts on his most cocky grin. Spock stiffens and glares.

“So what, you wanna get fucked? I can help with that.”

Spock inhales sharply, his pretty eyes widen.

“See, I was jealous. You hitting on all those guys, and you never even saw what was right in front of you.”

Spock opens his mouth. Jim takes another step and clamps a hand over his Vulcan’s lips.

“Shut up, I’m talking now. Seeing you with all those guys, Spock… I really didn’t like that. In fact, I hated it. I hated you throwing all those coy looks, I hated their hands on you, how they touched you and caressed you, I hated how you let them and pressed closer and moaned for them. I hated it, because you belong to me, and nobody gets to touch what’s mine.”

Spock’s eyes are wide and dark, he’s breathing heavily and his soft lips open under Jim’s palm. Both his arms have dropped, hanging by his side, hands opening and closing nervously.

Jim leers and leans closer. “See, you’re mine, and you know it. And now I’m gonna give you exactly what you need. I’m gonna pound your sweet ass now, I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before, until you’re moaning and begging for it. You like that, don’t you? I know you do.”

And he does, Spock’s erection is digging into his leg, and he grinds his hips against Spock. Jim takes his palm from his Vulcan’s mouth and uses both hands to turn him. He shoves Spock against the wall, and forces his hands above his head. Jim presses close, thrusts his erection against Spock’s leather-clad ass and moves his mouth to his Vulcan’s ear.

“Fuck Spock, you look gorgeous like this. All spread out for me, waiting for me to claim you, and I will. I promise you won’t be able to sit down for a week after this, hell, you won’t be able to walk.”

Spock shudders and moans, presses forward to rub his dick against the wall and back again to grind his ass to Jim’s. Jim bites at his neck, closes his mouth over sweet flesh and sucks, hard, teeth worrying the skin until a violent green mark is rising.

Spock jerks and shivers, he’s panting and bending his neck to give Jim more room. He smirks against the Vulcan’s neck and forces a hand between Spock and the wall to work at his fly. He’s slightly hindered by Spock’s erection and the Vulcan’s twisting and shifting his hips, so he shoves at his hands to keep him still. Spock shudders and subsides, groaning softly.

Jim manages to get both their pants undone and down, and finally is able to press his dick against Spock’s tight ass. The Vulcan’s keening now, presses back desperately, and Jim rewards him by dragging a finger along Spock’s crack. Spock shivers and shoves against him.

“Jim! I need…”

Jim smirks and teases his fingers around Spock’s hole. It’s already slick and open, and Jim imagines his Vulcan doing that himself, stretching his own entrance and getting ready for him. The image is burningly hot, and he vows to make Spock repeat that, some other time, when he can watch and jerk off and come all over Spock’s fingers up his ass.

“What do you need? Tell me.”

“I…”

“Say it, Spock. Say you want me to fuck you. Come on, Spock, tell me what you want.”

“Jim, please…”

“No. I want you to say it. Say ‘Jim, please fuck me’.”

“Jim, please f-f…”

Jim shoves two fingers up Spock’s ass, and the Vulcan wails. He moves and twists them, searching, and rubs his digits mercilessly across Spock’s prostate when he finds it. Spock jerks and thrusts his hips back against Jim’s fingers and moans and moans.

He bites at Spock’s ears and whispers: “I won’t do it unless you say it, Spock.”

His Vulcan bangs his head against the wall, keening loudly, desperate, panting harshly. A fine sheen of sweat glistens on his neck, his eye-liner is smudged around eyes that are squeezed shut, and he’s beautiful. Jim’s cock is smearing precome all over Spock’s ass and he has to grit his teeth so he won’t just bury himself in there.

“F-f… Jim, please, f-fuck me, please!”

Jim rips his fingers out and shoves his dick in Spock’s willing hole, until he’s buried to the hilt. Spock screams, his tight channel clamps around Jim, and he nearly comes on the spot.

He takes a single moment to breathe, but Spock is already shifting against him, pushing back and pulling forward again, fucking himself on Jim’s dick. He thrusts, hard, and Spock moans and pushes back against him. They find their rhythm easily, like they were made for each other. Soon Jim is fucking his Vulcan deeply and mercilessly, withdrawing almost completely before burying himself completely inside that sweet, sweet hole. Spock can’t even moan anymore, can only give little gasps at every thrust. Jim’s panting with the effort, but keeps on fucking him, bites at Spock’ neck and delights in every shudder and all that slippery hot skin against his.

Jim’s close, so close. He tightens his hand on Spock’s wrists and moves the other to wrap around his Vulcan’s cock. One touch is all it takes and Spock is coming, shots all over Jim’s fingers, his channel clamping down on him like a vice. Jim shoves in even deeper, bites Spock’s neck and tastes coppery blood, and he’s falling, falling over the edge.

-----

“So, I guess that made up for all the cock-blocking?”

“You have certainly started to ‘make up for it’, Jim. However…”

“What?”

“However, since you have thwarted my attempts to engage in copulation with others on no less than five occasions, it would seem you owe me another four times of sexual congress.”

“… You know what? You’re absolutely right. We should take care of that as soon as possible. Maybe in my quarters, though? I’d really like to throw you down onto my bed and ravish you.”

“That would be most agreeable. You are intelligent as well as aesthetically pleasing.”

“Aw, don’t make me blush. What about my amazing sex powers, though?”

“As impressed as I might be by the girth of your reproductive organs, I believe I need to sample more of those… powers before I am able to rate them adequately.”

“Oh, you will, don’t worry, Mr. Spock.”

“I look forward to it, Captain.”

The End…

Sequel "Jim Kirk, relationship genius" is up!