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“And right through there… there we are.”
Jim finishes straightening out his tie, tucking it into his suit jacket carefully once he slips that on. He checks in the mirror to be sure, but for his first attempt at a necktie in years he thinks he’s done a pretty bang-up job.
Actually, he looks pretty good in this suit, especially considering that it was probably tailored to the random gangster he forced to disrobe at gun point.
… it probably says something that this isn’t even in the top ten strangest missions he’s been on at this point in his career.
Jim adjusts the hat on his head carefully, then tucks the pocket square in.
“Alright, Spock, are you about ready to get going?”
“I require another moment, Captain.”
Jim frowns, looking over at Spock. His back is turned to him, his jacket laid out on the chair next to him, and his arms are moving.
“Everything alright, Mr. Spock?”
Spock’s shoulders tense an almost imperceptible amount; if Jim didn’t know him so well, he doubts he would have even noticed.
“I… find that I am having some difficulty with part of this outfit,” he admits quietly, almost reluctantly. “This kind of… neck adornment is not common within Vulcan fashion.”
Jim blinks, then grins.
“You’re saying you don’t know how to tie a tie?”
“… no, sir.”
Jim chuckles, shaking his head.
“Well, lucky for you I know how. Turn around, I’ll give you a hand.”
Spock lets out a quiet sigh, then turns around to face Jim. His eyes go wide when he sees him, lips parting slightly.
“Everything alright, Mr. Spock?”
“I…” If Jim didn’t know better, he’d think that Spock’s cheeks were a little green. “Fine, Captain. I am simply not used to seeing you in something other than Starfleet regulation clothing.”
Jim chuckles.
“I suppose that’s true.” Jim steps closer to him, inspecting the mess he’s made of his tie. “Would you like me to teach you how to do this?”
“I doubt I will have occasion to wear a necktie again, sir.”
Jim shrugs as he undoes the messy knot.
“Fair enough.” He begins tying the tie without another word. It’s not as easy from this angle- he’s a lot more used to doing this by himself than to another person- but it’s easy enough once he gets the hang of it.
Spock keeps glancing at him and averting his gaze. His cheeks are definitely green now.
Jim suppresses a grin.
“You know, there’s no reason to be embarrassed.”
Spock jolts a little, eyebrow raised.
“Sir?”
“That you don’t know how to tie a tie,” Jim elaborates as he pulls the wide end through the neck loop. “I know that your job is to know things, but you don’t know what you don’t know.”
He tightens the knot, sliding it up a bit to adjust it, then pats Spock on the chest.
“You know?”
Spock blinks at him.
“I know.”
Jim smiles.
“Good. Now, get your jacket and your hat, we’ve got to get moving.”
As he walks away, Jim could swear he hears Spock let out a shaky breath.
Jim has to admit, he’s probably having more fun with this than strictly appropriate in a mission dealing with a near worst-case scenario for a violation of the Prime Directive. In his defense, it’s been quite a while since their last shore leave, and, well… how often do you get to play Chicago mobsters at work?
So, yes, he’s having fun with it, getting a little more into the role than strictly necessary. He hardly thinks anyone can say it isn’t working, though.
“Now look, Krako, we’re taking over the, ah, whole ball of wax. You cooperate with us,” Jim says, gesturing between himself and Krako, “and maybe we’ll cut you in for a piece of the action.”
Krako makes a face, then glances over at Spock.
“A minuscule piece of the action,” Spock clarifies. He lifts one hand, putting his thumb and pointer finger just an inch or two from each other. “A very small piece.”
Krako looks over at him, seeming no less mystified than he was a second ago.
“How much is that?”
“That’s, uh… we’ll figure it out later.”
Krako looks disgruntled.
“Thought you guys had laws- no interference-!”
“Who’s interferin’?” Jim interrupts. “We’re taking over!”
He walks over in front of Spock.
“Check?”
“Right,” Spock agrees stiffly.
He’s not very good at the whole “mobster” act. It’s strangely endearing.
Jim walks behind the desk, standing in front of the chair.
“The, ah, planet is being taken over by the Federation, but we don’t wanna come in here and use our muscle, you know what I mean?” He slips his phaser back in his pocket. “That ain’t subtle.”
He sits down in the plush, green chair. It’s actually pretty nice, and for a second he wishes he could replace his own regulation chair with it.
“So what we do is we, we help one guy take over the planet, he pulls the strings, and then we pull his,” Jim says, chuckling as he mimes a puppet’s strings.
Spock glances over at Krako, nodding seriously. Jim snaps his fingers.
“Hey, you. Come sit down over here.”
Spock blinks, eyes widening slightly as his cheeks turn light green again. He almost looks like he wants to question or protest Jim’s orders, but he doesn’t; instead, he walks over towards Jim and…
And sits down on the desk.
Giving Jim an altogether not-at-all-objectionable view of his backside, actually. He wouldn’t mind keeping it, if not for the way the Iotians are looking at them with confusion.
So instead, he clears his throat.
“Spock, I meant in the chair.”
“… ah.”
Spock doesn’t look at him as he gets off the desk, sitting down in the chair near the desk. Jim leans back in his chair, putting his feet on the desk.
Spock, with no small amount of trepidation, copies him.
It’s kind of adorable, actually.
“What’s your cut?” Krako demands.
“What do you care? As long as you’re being cut in.” Jim shrugs. “Course, there’s always Bela Okmyx.”
Krako looks shocked, then disgusted, then looks away in defeat.
“Alright, it’s a deal. Call your ship, bring down your boys and,” Krako gestures wildly. “Whatever else you need.”
Jim smirks, then pulls his comm out of his pocket.
“Kirk to Enterprise.”
“Enterprise. Scott here.”
“Alright, Scotty, we made a deal with Krako.”
There’s a pause.
“… we did, sir?”
“Yeah, we’re ready to make the hit. We’re takin’ over the whole planet as soon as you get ready.”
“D’you think that’s wise, sir?”
“Sure, we can trust Krako!” Obviously not, but he can’t say that with Krako in the room. “But we don’t have any choice, you know what I mean? He’s standin’ about twelve feet in front of me, all ready to be our pal. Of course, Scotty, I’d like to show him the ship, just, uh, to show him we’re on the level. But you know how it is.”
“Aye, I know indeed.”
Jim grins.
Maybe twenty minutes later and one admittedly not very smooth car ride later, they’ve got Okmyx cornered.
“Alright Spocko, cover him.”
Spock does, pointing his tommy gun at Okmyx’s head.
“Now, listen, sweetheart, the Federation’s movin’ in. We’re takin’ over. You play ball, we’ll cut you in for a piece of the pie. You don’t, you’re out. All the way out, you know what I mean?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim sees that Spock’s cheeks have turned green again. He feels a little bad- this part of the planet’s probably a little cold for him.
He’ll have to make sure he spends some time in his quarters warming up. He can probably make something up to get him out of the debrief later.
Once Okmyx has agreed to terms, Jim whips out his comm again.
“Kirk to Enterprise.”
“Enterprise. Scott here, sir.”
“You got Krako on ice?”
“Aye, he’s here. Mad enough to chew neutronium, but behaving himself.”
“Okay, baby, cool him until I flag you.”
Jim hears a very tiny whimper. Probably Okmyx, he seems reasonably afraid for his safety.
“… flag me?”
“Keep him there until I send for him,” Jim elaborates in a low voice. “We’re gonna make some old-style phone calls from this locale, so you locate the man on the other end of the blower and give him a ride to this flop.”
“… what?”
Jim rolls his eyes.
“Find the man at the other end of the phone, and transport him to these coordinates. Can do, sweetheart?”
“Uh… can do, Captain. Standing by.”
Minutes later, during which Spock finally seems to cotton on to the whole mobster lingo thing, all three bosses are in one room. Not long after that, and with a little show of force, they’ve all agreed to a peace treaty, one that’ll keep them from killing each other and give the Federation a tidy little sum to boot.
“Eh, Captain, there’s just one more thing,” Okmyx says. He gestures for Jim to lean in, which he does. “Could you and your boy over there possibly return my boys’ clothes?”
Jim pretends to think about it for a minute.
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
Okmyx’s eyebrows rise.
“Come again?”
“Look at it this way, Okmyx- it’s symbolic. You’ll never forget who wears the pants in this relationship.”
Jim winks to cap it off; out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Spock turn green again, but he doesn’t have time to think too hard about it before they’re beaming up.
The minute they re-materialize, Jim lets out a long, satisfied sigh.
“Well, that was fun.”
“Fun?!” Bones exclaims. “You call getting guns pointed at us fun?!”
“Now, now, Bones, just because you didn’t get to play mobster doesn’t mean you get to rain on Spock and I’s parade,” Jim replies. “Right, Spock?”
Spock doesn’t answer; when Jim looks over at him, his eyes are trained on his shoes.
“Spock?”
Spock’s head jerks up, his eyes slightly wider than usual.
“Yes, Captain?”
“You had fun too, didn’t you?”
Spock blinks, then purses his lips.
“Were I so inclined towards fun, sir, that experience is not what I would have described as such.”
Jim frowns.
“Oh. Well, I suppose you were cold, so that makes sense.”
Spock raises an eyebrow.
“Cold, sir?”
“Well, I noticed your cheeks turn a little green a few times. Obviously the planet wasn’t warmer than Vulcan, so it must have been cold.”
Spock blinks again, then clears his throat.
“It… it was a bit cooler than I am used to there, yes.”
Jim smiles, but before he can say anything else he hears the bosun whistle.
“Bridge to Captain Kirk.”
Jim frowns, walking over to the intercom and pressing the call button.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“There’s a call from Command, sir. They said they wanted to be debriefed on the mission as soon as soon as you got back on the ship.”
Jim looks down at himself, then back up at the intercom.
“You don’t suppose they’d be willing to wait a moment, do you? I’d rather like to change back into something more… regulation, you see.”
“They seemed rather impatient to me, sir,” Uhura replies, sounding amused.
Jim sighs.
“Alright, direct the call to my ready room. Kirk out.” Jim takes a breath, looking over at Spock. “Well, duty calls.”
Spock nods, then points his head at the doorway.
“Shall we, sir?”
“Mm… why don’t you go warm up, Mr. Spock? I think I can handle this by myself.”
Spock purses his lips, then nods.
“Very well.”
Jim smiles again, then walks out of the transportation room.
As he does, he hears Bones snort.
“Cold, huh?”
“I would request that you do not speak on this topic, doctor.”
Jim frowns, then shrugs.
Just Bones and Spock being Bones and Spock, he supposes.
An hour and a half later, Jim’s rubbing the back of his neck tiredly as he steps out of the lift. He rolls his shoulders, then pulls out his comm to check the time.
“Shoot.”
He lets out a sigh. He was hoping to change, but he’s already late for chess with Spock.
At least he can change straight from this into pajamas after a shower, he supposes.
With that, he heads for Spock’s door, buzzing the bell.
“Enter!”
The door slides open, and Jim walks in, trying not to exhale too loudly at the sudden increase in temperature.
“Hey, Spock, ready for chess?”
“Indeed. You are slightly late, so I have already set… everything…”
Spock trails off just after he turns to face Jim.
“What?”
“You are… still wearing the suit.”
Jim blinks, then nods.
“Well, yes. I came straight here from the debrief, since I was already late for our meeting.” He frowns. “Is that a problem?”
“There is no logical reason why there would be,” Spock answers, his tone still strange. “However, would you not be more comfortable in your regular uniform?”
Jim shrugs.
“Honestly, if I change now I’d rather have it be into my pajamas.” He tugs at the knot in his tie, loosening it slightly. “Though it is a little warm in here with all these layers.”
Spock clears his throat.
“Computer, lower temperature by-!”
“Hold on, now, don’t go making yourself uncomfortable on my behalf.”
“As I have said before, Jim, I do not mind being slightly cold if it means you do not overheat.”
Jim huffs, then starts unbuttoning the jacket.
“Fine, but only a few degrees. I’ll take this off and we should both be fine then.”
“Very well. Computer, lower temperature by… by five…”
Spock trails off just as Jim slips off his jacket. Jim frowns, looking over at him to see that he’s staring.
“Something the matter?”
“… hm?”
“You stopped in the middle of your command.”
Spock blinks, then clears his throat; if Jim didn’t know better, he’d swear that his cheeks flash green.
“My apologies, I was… distracted. Computer, lower temperature by five degrees.”
The temperature lowers, and Jim sighs as he folds his jacket over the back of his usual chair. He sits down, scooting it up to the table. He gestures for Spock to sit down, which he does.
“Remind me, who lost our last game?”
Spock raises an eyebrow.
“You know very well that it was me, Captain.”
“Jim, Spock. We’re off duty.”
Spock raises an eyebrow, but nods.
“Very well. As I lost last time, I will take white.”
“Great. Your move, then.”
They begin playing in comfortable silence, as always. A few moves in, Jim asks about an experiment Spock said he was going to check up on before they arrived on Iotia, and Spock starts telling him about it while calculating the best way to decimate Jim’s side of the board.
Their usual off-the-clock routine. Jim wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Well, he thinks, eyeing the way Spock’s collar slips up against his throat, maybe a few things.
But he’s happy with what he has. Really.
He’s not exactly happy with this shirt, though. The long sleeves in this environment are proving to be something of a hindrance. With a small sigh, he unbuttons the cuff of his left sleeve and starts rolling it up.
He hears something clack against the board; when he looks up, he sees that Spock has dropped his knight, knocking down a few pawns.
“You alright?”
“I… I am fine, Jim,” Spock says, voice strangely tight as he puts everything back the way it was. “Are you sure you are not too warm?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Jim says as he finishes rolling up his sleeve halfway up his forearm. He unbuttons the cuff of the right sleeve to roll it up too. “I can adjust.”
“… very well,” Spock murmurs, turning his gaze back to the chess board. Jim finishes rolling up his sleeve, then turns his attention back to the board.
A few moves later, he sighs. The tie’s starting to get to him. He loops his finger into the knot, pulling it free and taking the entire tie off.
He thinks he hears Spock’s breath hitch, but when he looks at him his eyes are trained on the board. Jim purses his lips, then shrugs it off as he puts the tie on top of his jacket.
A minute after that, he sighs again, then reaches up and undoes the top button on his shirt. It’s still a little too warm, so he undoes the next one too-!
Spock suddenly stands up, startling Jim.
“Spock?”
“I have just remembered that I have some paperwork I have to file,” Spock says. His voice is slightly strained, and Jim can’t quite read the expression on his face.
“What, really? You never forget things like that.”
“Today’s mission took priority in my mind. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Jim frowns, but nods, getting up from the table and gather up his jacket and tie.
“Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Spock nods, arms folded behind his back. Jim stops in front of the door to their shared bathroom, glancing back at him.
He hasn’t moved from behind the table.
“Uh… well, good night, Spock.”
Spock nods.
“Good night, Jim,” Spock says, not looking him in the eye.
Jim frowns, but walks through the door.
“Must have been an off day for him,” he murmurs as he locks Spock’s bathroom door from his side. He starts undressing, ready to shower. “Guess even Vulcans have those.”
The next day, Jim goes to the bridge by himself. It’s not unexpected- Spock’s always got Alpha in the labs on Thursdays- but he does miss talking to him on the ride up.
Ah, well. He’ll see him at dinner, like he always does.
He settles down in his chair, taking a PADD when an officer hands him one, then starts scrolling through the reports submitted last night.
When he comes to the end, he frowns.
Odd. Not a single report from Spock. All of his reports due today were filed before they even left for Iotia.
Jim shifts in his chair, pursing his lips.
It’s not like Spock to make an excuse like that. If he’s tired, or in need of meditation, he’ll just tell Jim so.
After a moment, he shrugs.
He’ll just bring it up at dinner, he supposes.
Except that Spock doesn’t show up for dinner. Jim waits an entire thirty minutes for him, even messages him to see if he’s running late, but Spock doesn’t answer him.
Odd and odder.
Jim eats by himself, trying to figure out if he’s done something to offend Spock. He can’t really think of anything, unless he was upset about Jim taking off pieces of the suit yesterday. He did give Spock a few chances to object, but he supposes it wouldn’t be amiss to talk it out.
And so, he heads over to Spock’s quarters to do just that.
“Enter,” he hears Spock call after he buzzes the door. He walks through once they slide open, finding Spock sitting at his desk.
“Mr. Spock, there you are.”
Spock glances over at him, then turns back to his console.
“Captain. We are not scheduled to play chess tonight.”
“No, but we were scheduled to have dinner together.”
Spock stops typing and looks up at him.
“Ah. My apologies, sir, it slipped my mind.”
“Mm. More reports you somehow forgot to file?”
Spock freezes.
“I… no, sir, just a project log.”
“Uh-huh.” Jim folds his arms across his chest. “You know, a funny thing happened this morning, Spock. I went to check my inbox and I found that not only had you filed all the reports you needed to by today, you did it before we even beamed down to Iotia.”
Spock goes rigid in his chair, averting his eyes.
“I…” Spock swallows. “I apologize for attempting to deceive you, sir.”
“And I accept that, but I’d like to know why you felt the need to lie to me. If you were just tired, I would have been happy to postpone our chess match for another day.”
Spock shifts in his chair, still not looking up at him.
A thought occurs to Jim.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Spock finally looks up at him, eyes fractionally wider than usual.
“Pardon?”
“Well, I just- I did start unbuttoning my shirt without much warning. I get how that could have been a bit off-putting.”
Spock glances away again.
“I… it was not…”
The tips of Spock’s ears turn green. Jim frowns.
“Spock? Everything okay?”
Spock’s flush spreads, and he mumbles something.
“Come again?”
“… I did not dislike it,” Spock mumbles, a little louder this time.
Jim tilts his head slightly.
“Didn’t dislike what?”
“You, unbuttoning your shirt.” Spock shifts again. “Or removing your tie, or rolling up your sleeves, or rolling up your jacket. It was… I found it…”
Spock bites his lip, and realization dawns on Jim.
“Oh,” Jim says quietly. He clears his throat. “I, uh, didn’t know that you liked that sort of thing.”
“Until yesterday, neither did I.”
“Ah.” Jim bites his lip, folding his arms behind his back. “Was it just the suit, or…?”
Spock finally looks up at him, eyebrows raised.
“Captain?”
“Well, I just… you know what, nevermind. I shouldn’t have asked.” He starts walking toward their shared bathroom. “I’ll let you get back to-!”
“It was you.”
Jim blinks, turning around. Spock is standing now, arms at his side. His face is bright green, but there’s a determined set to his jaw that usually means they’re about to do something impossible.
“It was you,” Spock repeats. “The suit was attractive, but it was only on you that I found it so… distracting.”
Spock swallows.
“I always find you distracting.”
Jim inhales sharply.
“Oh thank god,” he mutters, crossing the room in two long strides before pulling Spock into a kiss. Spock gasps, but quickly gets with the program, wrapping his arms around Jim’s torso.
Things turn a little hazy after that. It’s not until Spock’s tongue is in Jim’s mouth and Jim’s hands are fondling Spock’s ass that an idea occurs to him.
“Spock,” he says after he breaks away, “could you wait here for a minute?”
Spock raises an eyebrow. His bangs are a little mussed, and it’s so damn cute Jim almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“For what purpose would we stop before we even begin?” Spock asks.
“Oh, I think it’s something you’ll like,” Jim replies. He leans in for a kiss. “I’ll comm you when I’m ready. Come in through the bathroom, alright?”
Spock frowns, but nods. Jim kisses him one last time, then walks out through the bathroom. He practically sprints into his quarters, quickly walking over to his closet.
He’s honestly not sure what possessed him to keep this thing. Until about ten minutes ago, he had no intention of ever wearing it again, taking it more as a way to exert control over the Iotians than anything.
Whatever it was, though, he’s glad he listened.
Jim gets dressed as quickly as possible, trying not to think of all the things he learned about Vulcan anatomy that time he got a little too tipsy and spent an entire evening looking it up on a Federation database. Once he’s certain that he’s gotten his tie straightened out, he takes a breath, then grabs his comm.
“Kirk to Spock.”
“Spock here.”
“You can come in now, if you’d like.”
“Acknowledged.”
A second later, the door to the bathroom slides open. Spock seems like he’s about to say something when his eyes fall on Jim and go wide, his face turning bright green.
Jim grins.
“See something you like, Mr. Spock?”
In lieu of an answer, Spock quickly crosses the room and kisses Jim like his life depends on it. Jim groans, parting his lips and trailing his hands down toward Spock’s ass. When they break apart, Spock shoves his hands between their stomachs, fumbling for the buttons of his jacket.
“Fair warning, I don’t think I can keep up the accent during this.”
“The accent is unimportant,” Spock says as he unbuttons Jim’s jacket. He shoves it off and onto the floor. “However, if… if I may make a request…”
“Yeah?” Jim prompts when Spock trails off.
“You… did not use these words toward me, but I… found it very arousing when you used the words ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart.’”
Jim blinks, then grins, cupping Spock’s cheek.
“Yeah? You want me to call you baby, Spock?”
Spock flushes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. After a moment, he nods.
“… say it?” Jim tests.
Spock’s flush spreads to his ears, his pupils dilating.
“Yes,” he says breathlessly. “I would like it very much if you called me that.”
“Called you what?”
“… baby. And sweetheart.” Spock swallows. “Honey would also be acceptable, although you did not use that word yesterday.”
Good boy forms on Jim’s tongue, but he swallows it down. Probably better to introduce that one at a later date. Instead, he kisses Spock, then pulls back to look at him.
“So, uh, is there anything… specific you wanted to do here?”
“In fact there is.”
And that’s when Spock drops to his knees.
“Oh,” Jim says in a quiet voice as the back of his neck heats. Spock gazes up at him, deep brown eyes smoldering, then moves to undo the fly. A few movements later and Jim’s… mostly soft cock is hanging out, though it won’t be soft much longer if Spock keeps looking at it like that.
Jim clears his throat.
“Not to rush you, but, uh… can I maybe get some info about the plan here?”
“My plan was to fellate you from quiescence all the way to climax,” Spock answers matter-of-factly. “Would that please you?”
Jim blinks, a hot flush making its way up from his chin to the roots of his hair.
His cock twitches. There’s almost certainly no way that Spock misses it.
“I… yeah, that- that sounds good,” he manages.
“Excellent.”
Spock ducks his head slightly, brushing his lips against the very tip of Jim’s cock just as it peeks out from under his foreskin. Jim lets out a tiny breath, then moans when he feels Spock’s slightly rough tongue brush over that same spot.
“That feels good, Spock,” he murmurs. Spock hums in response, laving his tongue over the tip of his cock.
Then, in an instant, the entire thing is in Spock’s mouth.
“Fuck!” Jim shouts, hands flying into Spock’s hair. “Christ, Spock…”
Spock hums, laving his tongue around Jim’s shaft. His tongue is just a little rougher than Jim is used to, but somehow that only makes his toes curl in his dress shoes.
He’s definitely not going to be soft for long. His blood’s already flowing south so fast that his head might start spinning.
Spock sucks gently, and Jim gasps, tightening his grip on Spock’s hair before releasing it.
“Ah, sorry-!”
One of Spock’s hands shoots out and grabs one of Jim’s, putting it right back on top of his head.
“Oh,” Jim says faintly. “O-Okay…”
Spock hums with satisfaction, returning his attention to Jim’s cock. By this point, Jim’s hard enough that he doesn’t fit all the way in Spock’s mouth. Spock hasn’t missed a beat, wrapping his hand around the base as he starts to bob his head back and forth.
Jim swears, then bites his lower lip. He moves one hand down to Spock’s ear, caressing the tip, and-
Well. If Jim wasn’t already most of the way there, the way Spock whimpers was more than enough to have him rock hard in an instant.
“You like that, sweetheart?” He murmurs in a strained voice. Spock hums affirmatively, then pulls off his cock. Before Jim can question what he’s doing, he swirls his tongue around the head, ripping a moan out of Jim’s throat. “Oh, god, that’s good…”
Spock pulls back again, stroking Jim from base to tip once, twice, then laps at the head with his tongue again. Jim responds by playing with the tip of Spock’s ear again, getting another little whimper out of him that makes his cock throb.
Then Spock sticks the very tip of his tongue into the slit of his cock, and Jim’s knees nearly buckle then and there.
“Holy shit,” Jim swears. “God, Spock, I-!”
Spock pops the head of Jim’s cock back into his mouth, sucking on it hard, and for a second Jim’s mind completely blanks. Spock hums around him, then starts bobbing his head back and forth. Just when Jim’s getting used to it, he then pulls off all the way, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft as he starts fondling his balls. Jim’s panting by the time he sucks one of them into his mouth, his fingers tightening in Spock’s hair. There’s a flash of pointed teeth against his skin, and Jim whimpers.
“You are- really good at this.”
Spock hums appreciatively around his mouthful, then pulls off.
“Thank you,” he says, voice slightly hoarse. His lipstick is smudged, at which point Jim realizes it’s all over his cock, but before he can even start to think harder about that, Spock decides to try something new.
Namely, shoving Jim’s whole cock down his throat.
Jim lets loose a whole host of colorful language that would have had his mother stuffing a whole bar of soap in his mouth when he was younger. As it stands, Spock simply hums peacefully.
For some reason, this is enough to remind Jim that Vulcans have no gag reflex. His toes curl in his dress shoes.
“Spock,” he moans.
Spock swallows around him, and Jim-
Jim is about two seconds from coming down his throat, Christ.
Spock moans, pulling back until Jim’s cock is out of his mouth.
“Yes, please. I would like to taste you,” Spock says, which is when Jim remembers that he’s a touch telepath, and then before he can think too much about that Spock’s mouth is around the head of his cock, and his hand is jerking him off, and Jim can feel his balls drawing up, can feel his gut twisting with molten heat, and then Spock’s finger slips behind his balls and presses on the skin there and-!
Jim nearly doubles over when it hits him, nearly crumples to the floor with the rush of it. His mind goes blank, the world going silent save for the pounding of his own heart in his ears.
When he comes to, he’s somehow still on his feet. Spock is looking up at him with a smoldering gaze, Jim’s softening cock still inches from his face.
There’s a little bit of white at the corner of his mouth. Jim reaches down, wiping it away with his thumb, and Spock shudders.
“Jim,” he whispers.
God. Jim wants to ruin him.
“Get on your feet.”
Spock scrambles to comply. Jim takes him by the arms, turning him around and walking him backwards to the bed. He pushes Spock onto the bed, then stands back up. He smirks as he pulls off his tie and drops it on the bed, watching the way Spock’s eyes track his hands as he slowly unbuttons his shirt to the halfway point.
“Take off your shirt,” he instructs as he rolls up his sleeves. Spock is quick to comply, seemingly uncaring about where his clothes end up given that he practically throws both his shirt and undershirt off the bed. Jim grins as he slips off his shoes, then climbs on top of him and leans down for a kiss while trailing a hand down Spock’s stomach. He feels it jump under his touch. “Someone’s eager.”
“Jim…” Spock whispers.
“Don’t worry, now. I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” His hand lands on Spock’s belt just as their lips meet again. Spock buries his hands in Jim’s hair, trying to roll up into him. “Hold still, I want to get you naked.”
Spock makes a noise that Jim’s tempted to call a whine. Jim’s dick twitches at the sound, and he’s starting to think this’ll be a pretty short refractory period.
He gets the belt undone relatively quickly, pulling it off and tossing it off his bed. He shoves Spock’s pants down with little ceremony, smirking when he sees the big wet spot between his legs.
“Did going down on me turn you on that much, baby?” He asks before kissing Spock’s jaw.
Spock’s cheeks flush, and he glances away.
“I…”
“Hmm?” Jim tilts Spock’s chin to make him look at him. “Tell me, Spock.”
Spock’s flush deepens.
“I… yes,” Spock admits in a quiet voice. “It- it was very arousing.”
Jim smirks, then leans down and kisses him.
“Then I think it’s up to me to take care of that for you, don’t you?”
Spock nods, and Jim kisses his lips once more before moving to lavish Spock’s throat with attention. He laves his tongue over his Adam’s apple as he trails his hands down Spock’s chest and stomach. They settle on the waistband of Spock’s regulation briefs, at which point Jim pulls back to watch the big reveal.
“Yeah?” He asks.
Spock nods.
“Yes.”
Jim smirks at him, then gets up on his knees and tugs down his briefs.
He’s technically seen this bit of Spock’s anatomy before- sometimes seeing your crewmates naked is unavoidable on missions, be it because you need to bathe and it’s not safe to do alone or someone the Federation desperately wants a deal with thinks clothing is evil.
But he’s never seen it like this, never seen his sheath sopping wet and flushed with arousal, with something green sticking out of the very top of the slit.
Jim licks his lips as he pulls Spock’s underwear and pants all the way off, dumping them over the side of the bed. Without missing a beat, he wraps his arms around Spock’s lower back, lifting him up and draping his thighs over his shoulders.
“J- oh!”
The first thing that Jim thinks is that Spock kind of tastes like peppermint: sweet, but with a cool kick to it. That’s the only thing that’s cool about Spock’s body, though, because his slit is warm, borderline hot to the touch. Jim moans, laving his tongue up the slit and flicking it against the tip of his lok.
“Jim.” Spock’s voice is breathless, desperate, and Jim’s already starting to get hard again. He moves his tongue from side to side, and Spock gasps again, making a futile attempt to roll his hips into Jim’s face.
Maybe some other time, Jim’ll let him do whatever he wants to his face.
“Mhn-!”
There’s a rush of that sweet, cool taste onto Jim’s tongue. He moans, lapping it up before trailing his tongue upward. He adjusts slightly, then wraps his lips around the tip of Spock’s lok and gives it a gentle suck. Spock cries out, and Jim thinks he might hear something rip but honestly he can’t find it in himself to care.
He’s too drunk on Spock to think of anything else.
Soon enough, the little nub in Jim’s mouth grows bigger, starting to push further in. Jim releases it to watch as his lok extends, giving the lower parts of his sheath little kitten licks all the while. Spock’s trembling by the time it stops growing, flushed bright green down to his stomach and panting softly.
Jim sighs happily, leaning his head against Spock’s thigh.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Spock’s eyes widen, a small, shocked noise passing his lips. Jim hears a wet squelch, and when he glances down he sees a pair of slim green tentacles peeking out below Spock’s lok- his fra’als, if he remembers correctly.
“Well, hello there,” he murmurs. An idea occurs to him, and he moves his head just forward enough to press his lips to one. Spock makes a soft sound, and so Jim does it again, then darts out his tongue to lick it, coaxing a louder sound out of him.
When he manages to wrap his lips around the tip, Spock practically shouts. He opens his mouth to let the other one in, then sucks gently, laving his tongue around the silky appendage and watching as opaque fluid starts leaking out of Spock’s lok. Spock’s thighs press lightly on either side of his head, trembling harder with each movement Jim makes.
“Jim,” Spock moans, clenching his thighs a little. “Jim, I am… I need to…”
Jim hums thoughtfully. He closes his eyes, trying to think directly at Spock.
Touch yourself for me. I want to see it.
Spock lets out a noise that’s shockingly close to a yelp. Within seconds, his hand is on his lok, jerking himself roughly.
Something Jim will have to remember for next time, he thinks.
“A-Ah-!”
Spock’s thighs tighten around his head again, this time accompanied by his fra’als pulsing in his mouth. Jim watches as his lok spurts lines of pale pink over his stomach, too mesmerized to move even when a gush of wet heat hits his lower lip and chin.
Eventually- Jim’s not sure how long it takes- Spock goes boneless. His fra’als slip out of Jim’s mouth, and Jim sighs happily, gently lowering him onto the bed.
Spock’s eyes are closed, and he’s still flushed all over. Some of his cum managed to reach his chest hair, which Jim can’t help but be a little impressed by, and his legs are still twitching a little.
Jim’s cock throbs, which is how he realizes that he’s hard again. He decides to ignore it, instead grabbing the tie and wiping his mouth with it.
“Jim.”
“Hm?” Jim looks up at Spock, who’s drawn up his legs so that Jim can no longer see between them. He briefly mourns the loss, but assures himself he’ll see it again. “What’s up?”
“Jim,” Spock says. “Please.”
Before Jim can ask what he means, Spock spreads his legs, showing off both that his lok is still very much erect, and that his fra’als have retreated inside his body, leaving enough room for… for…
“Oh, god,” Jim bites out, throwing the tie away before climbing on top of Spock and kissing him thoroughly. “Spock, sweetheart, you drive me wild, you know that?”
Spock simply whines, looping a leg around Jim’s leg and rubbing up against his cock as best he can.
“Please,” he repeats, and who is Jim to deny him?
Jim takes a hold of himself, rubbing up against against Spock a few more times to get himself coated in his slick, then lines himself up just under Spock’s lok. When he presses into him, Spock makes a noise that has Jim’s gut twisting hotly.
Speaking of hot, good lord is Spock’s sheath a lot. It’s just on the right side of too much, hot and wet and tight in a way that makes Jim want to throw caution to the wind and just start fucking him like there’s no tomorrow.
Spock moans, gripping at the back of Jim’s neck.
“Jim,” he pleads, and yet again Jim can’t find it in himself to deny him what he needs. Slowly, he begins rocking back and forth, watching as Spock’s eyes flutter closed.
“Like that?”
“Yes…”
Jim bites his lip, then leans down, plastering his open mouth onto Spock’s throat. His hands wander down Spock’s naked chest, thumbing at his nipples and making Spock go tight around his cock. Spock moves his hand up to the back of Jim’s head, gripping his hair, and Jim moans in response, bucking his hips a little harder.
“God, baby,” Jim manages. “You feel so good, so good around my cock.”
Spock lets out a small gasp, bearing down slightly and making Jim’s hips stutter.
“Oh, god, yeah, like that. So good, so good for me.”
Spock cries out, arching up against him. He clutches at the back of Jim’s shirt, locking his legs around Jim’s middle. Jim moves his head up to kiss him, drawing Spock’s tongue into his mouth and sucking on it in time with his thrusts.
A haze settles over them both. It’s almost mindless, the push and pull, the in and out. They kiss sloppily, uncaring of the mess they make so long as their mouths remained intertwined as they climb higher and higher.
At some point, Jim starts talking again. It’s nonsense, just him babbling about how good Spock makes him feel along with some babies and sweethearts and honeys, but it makes Spock’s pupils nearly eclipse his irises and that’s more than enough for Jim.
He thinks a good boy might slip in there somewhere. Maybe around when Spock shudders and clutches his shirt so hard that it rips in the back.
He doesn’t really think about it very hard. Instead, he pushes Spock’s legs down and starts thrusting at a new angle, one that has Spock nearly incoherent.
“Ah- yes, ye-es, there, please, there, I-! Oh, Jim, yes!”
Jim grits his teeth, warmth pooling low in his gut. His cock throbs with the urge to come, and with every movement he makes it gets harder and harder to resist it.
“Spock,” Jim whimpers, “Spock, I can’t… m’gonna… I gotta…”
Spock grabs his face, pulling Jim in for another kiss.
“Inside me,” he demands. “Inside, please, I want-! I need-!”
Jim groans, then snakes his hand between them and wraps his hand around Spock’s lok, coaxing a punched-out gasp from Spock.
“Jim...”
“Wanna see you,” he mumbles as he starts jerking Spock roughly. “Didn’t- didn’t get to see your face last time, wanna see what you look like when you come.”
Spock cries out, tightening around Jim’s cock.
“Jim…”
Jim thrusts in deep, then starts rocking in and out of Spock. His balls are drawn up tight, ready to erupt, but he holds off, he has to, he has to see this.
“C’mon, baby, c’mon, I wanna see it so bad, I wanna see what you look like when you feel so good that you just can’t stand it, wanna see what you look like when you lose control and-!”
“Oh!”
Spock’s eyes snap closed, his mouth falling open as a guttural moan rips out of his throat. Wetness gushes out of his sheath, spreading all over the crotch of Jim’s pants. More pink lines join the smeared ones in his chest hair- Jim thinks it’s even more than last time.
That’s the last coherent thought he has before his own orgasm hits. He bellows, burying his face in Spock’s neck and his cock deep in Spock’s sheath. Spock squeezes around him as he twitches inside him, milking him for all he’s worth until he finally starts to go soft.
When he can finally think straight again, he pulls out of Spock, kissing his jaw in apology when he whimpers in over-sensitivity. Once he’s all the way out, he flops onto his back, panting.
“… geez,” he breathes after a minute. “That was…”
“Indeed,” Spock agrees.
Jim laughs, turning over to look at him. His hair is mussed, his mascara smeared and his lipstick fully rubbed off. His face is bright green, but his expression is more relaxed than Jim’s ever seen it.
Jim thinks he might love him.
“How do you feel?”
“My dopamine levels are elevated as a result of-!”
“Spock.”
The corners of Spock’s lips quirk upward.
“I feel… good,” he admits softly. “Very good.”
Jim grins, leaning in to kiss him.
“Can’t say the same about this suit, though,” Jim muses when he pulls away. “Think we might have ruined it a little.”
“It was a worthy sacrifice,” Spock declares.
“Mm, I think so too.” Jim smirks. “Though I also think that maybe next time we’re on a starbase, I’ll see if there’s a tailor. I’ve got a few ideas I think you might like.”
Spock’s pupils get bigger.
“I would be more than willing to consult on that venture,” Spock replies evenly. Jim laughs, then leans in for a kiss.
Which is when his hand brushes over the big tear in his sheets.
“Think we might need to replace more than just the suit,” he notes.
Spock looks over, then flushes slightly.
“My apologies.”
“Eh, laundry day’s tomorrow anyway. Though I do think you should let me into your bed to make up for it.”
Spock’s lips quirk upward again.
“That is acceptable.”
Jim grins, then leans in for another long kiss.