Chapter Text
Spock was, well, a whole lot of Vulcan words fluttered around in Jim’s head, but he guessed the Standard equivalent would be excited. He hadn’t said anything, of course, but the Captain could feel it buzzing around in the back of his head. It was where all of Spock’s feelings had showered up since this…thing that they’d started with mind melding and telepathy. Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it, where this was going. He was certain he didn’t want to think about how absurdly far away it was from where they started. Fondly, he remembered kneeling in Spock’s quarters that first night. Remembers—and it’s hilarious to think about, now—wondering if Spock knew what it meant. Neither one of them had had any idea as to what it meant, what it would come to mean. And Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it.
So when his first officer frowned slightly, tilted his head, and commented, “You are anxious,” Jim did what he did best, he deflected. Leveling the Vulcan with a blinding smile, he tilted one shoulder up into a shrugged, and waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “You’re excited,” he countered, “Gonna tell me why?”
Spock’s eyes widened, “I had assumed you knew. We are thirteen days and three hours away from shore leave. Given the severity of some of our encounters, Star Fleet has deemed it appropriate that we take a full seven day week, rather than the standard three days.”
“Yeah? That’s awesome. It’d be nice to maybe go home or a bit, or see if I could track down my mom. God knows where she is. A week? Yeah, that could be really nice. What’re you gonna do?” Spock couldn’t meet his eyes, which was weird because Vulcans tended to be really good with eye contact in social situation. They didn’t usually get awkward, but Spock was getting awkward.
“I had, made arrangements, for the two of us. Which was, I realize now, a miscalculation. I should have, but I assumed, I should not have assumed. I apologize,” He choked out, and on the inside Jim was dying with laughter. This was probably the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. The laughter threatened to spill out, and he just barely contained it. It would be cruel, and there was no way Spock would understand.
“You are amused,” Spock lamented, because, oh yeah, they were in each other’s brains now. “I’m not laughing at you,” Jim rushed to say, even though he kind of was, “I’ve never seen you struggle with words before. It’s endearing.” The Vulcan narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “No, seriously. You’re a little adorable right now. I’m having trouble. I don’t really know what to do with it.”
Sighing, Spock rose from the couch in the Captain’s quarters where they’d been shamelessly cuddled for the last hour. “I am glad that you can glean some amusement from my discomfort, however, I am not particularly in the mood to be,”
“Spock! Come on, sit down. I’m not laughing at you. I’m not. Sit. Please. Tell me where we’re going.”
The older man turned, warily, to face him. “You will accompany me, then?” Jim nodded emphatically, “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Spock sat again, allowed Jim to cuddle up against his side, allowed himself to rub his cheek over the Captain’s hair. “There is a pleasure planet in the same system as New Vulcan…” he began slowly. Jim perked up at this, “Yeah?” Spock nods. “They are very…open, to arrangements like ours.”
“Ours like interspecies, or…?” Jim waited.
“They understand that the balance of dominance and submission holds more importance in some relationships than in others. They encourage that.” All of Spock’s words were slow, like he was taking particular care in choosing them, making sure they were the right ones.
“So, they’re into whips and chains and collars and the whole nine?”
“You would look quite lovely in a collar.” Jim’s breath caught in his throat a little. “You think so?”
Spock made a contented humming sound. “I sometimes imagine that. You in a collar. You on a leash.”
Jim was one hundred percent sure he stopped breathing.
“So, you don’t call me Pet because it’s adorable then, I’m guessing?” His voice cracked, and shocked Spock out of his little fantasy. “Did I? Is that not…acceptable to you?”
“I’m actually amazed at how acceptable that is to me.” Jim blurted out. “It’s been, we haven’t really been…that way, in a while. I didn’t know if…” It was difficult to explain that, since the meld, their relationship had shifted to a much more conventional place. Sure, they had sex, but it was vanilla, almost incredibly ordinary. They would fall into each other after a shift, or a bad dream, or in that dreamy place right before wakefulness, and it was good. It was always good, so Kirk had a hard time admitting that something was missing.
Yet, the idea of Spock imagining him that way…The image of himself on his knees, trailing behind Spock, leashed and collared…had him hard immediately. It was almost too much. He squirmed a little on the couch.
“You have never required…that…of me without some sort of emotional distress. I did not know if you wanted…”
“I’ve wanted. God, I’ve wanted.” Jim moaned a little, shifting again to adjust his now throbbing erection. Spock’s eyes ran over him hungrily, but he nodded. Stroking a hand down Kirk’s face, he murmured, “It is important, this close to leave, that we do not obviously shift our power dynamic. It would not be wise for me to take you the way I want you now.” Jim shivered, and the hand on his face slid down to his neck, “But I must have you. I have neglected your needs, for which I am sorry. I will make it up to you. You will be well repaid for your patience in me.” Trailing over his chest, Spock’s hand slipped down over his belt to palm at his growing erection. Ignoring Kirk’s sharp intake of air, he kept talking, “It is important, however, that it happens there. Somewhere that is not the ship. Where there are no prying eyes, no interruptions, and you are not responsible for so much. We will be busy. You will need recovery time.” The Commander’s eyes grew distant for a moment, and Jim just knew he was scheduling out their vacation. But it sounded like it was going to be a sex vacation, so he was pretty okay with it. Spock’s hand was warm and firm on his cock, and Jim couldn’t help but thrust into it some. A dirty, kinky, sex vacation. Seven days. Fuck. No wonder Spock was excited.
“Still,” Spock murmured, still distant, and the movement in Jim’s hips stopped. He whimpered a little. The Commander’s eyes came back, fully focused and hungry. “I have always wondered, scientifically, of course…” he trailed off, grinding his palm a little harder into Jim, smirking slightly at his choked whine, “how much you can take. I always oblige you so quickly. How long could you last, how long could I keep you hard and prevent you from touching before you went crazy?” Jim shook his head. This was not something he wanted to test out.
“For science, you understand,” Spock continued, gently pushing Jim back so that he was laying down on the couch, “For science, I have to know.” His hands moved to the Captain’s belt buckle, which he unfastened and slid off quickly. Undoing the top button and sliding down the zipper, he tugged so that Jim’s pants and underwear were off before he even completely realized. Spock’s eyes were tracking up and down his cock, lingering over the bead of precome at the head. “Fortunately, this is neither the time nor place for that experiment.” He breathed, taking Jim into his hand, smearing the precome down from his head and using it to ease his way.
With his other hand, the undid his own pants, kicking them off fitfully before settling himself over Jim, enough to warm every exposed inch of skin, and then took both of their cocks into his hand. The younger man shuddered out a moan at the contact, “Spock…” he breathed, arching into his first officer’s touch. Spock responded by thrusting into his own hand, sliding them together.
“You’re so wet,” Spock marveled, thrusting over him. His urgency was palpable, it was zinging through Jim’s mind and making him crazy. He slipped his hand down to grab the Vulcan’s ass, grind him down and he rolled his hips up and there.
“Ohhhh God,” he shuddered, flexed his fingers to do it again but Spock was ahead of him, laying his palm flat so that their cocks lay next to each other on Jim’s belly, bracing his other hand against the back of the couch and thrusting, so that they slid against each other, Jim did the same immediately, eyes glued to their cocks lined up against him, Spock’s flushed green and dripping. Hitching up one leg, he wrapped it around the Commander’s calf, changing the angle to something dirtier somehow, and then Spock was talking.
“You’re going to be gorgeous in my collar. I can hardly fucking wait.” Spock moaned, just to hear the hitch in the Captain’s breathing. “Stop teasing,” Jim whined, “You’re not supposed to tease…” The Vulcan just chuckled instead, leaning down to kiss against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, letting his tongue trail down to the collarbone. “The only lubrication is by the bed,” he pointed out against the younger man’s skin. “Don’t need it,” Jim replied quickly, earning himself an arched eyebrow. “I don’t. I promise. It’s fine, just…please.”
Unwilling to hurt him, Spock slid the hand on their cocks down, tracing a finger around Jim’s hole, and slowly sinking in. The give was immediate and unbelievable. “What did you do?” He asked, pumping the finger in and out a few times, before hesitantly adding another. He met a little resistance, but nowhere near as much as he should have.
“Missed you,” Kirk was gasping, “Needed something so I…” he trailed off, unable to finish.
“You shoved your fingers up your needy little hole without me?” The Commander’s voice dropped to what was almost a growl. “You were flushed when I got here. Did you come?” The thrusts came harder know, twisting and scissoring inside, “Did you come with your fingers up your ass, thinking of me?” Jim was moaning and whining, Spock’s middle finger had found his prostate, and he was almost incoherent with lust.
“No,” he arched, grinding down against the fingers inside him, “No. You were coming, and so…I stopped. I thought I’d finish after you left.” He mumbled, embarrassed. Spock pulled his fingers out, “You were not anticipating my participation at all, then?” Jim whined, rolling his hips, hole clenching rhythmically. “Show me.”
Immediately, Jim snaked his hand down, pulling his legs up to his chest and pressing three long, graceful fingers into himself. He groaned at the intrusion, then began to thrust into himself ruthlessly. Spock watched in awe as the younger man began to fuck himself down on his fingers. He could see them curl, knew that he was hitting his prostate with every pass. He took his own dick into his hand.
“This is how you want to be fucked? Fast and hard like this?” He breathed, stroking himself slowly, squeezing almost to the point of pain to prevent from coming to soon. Jim nodded, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the pleasure he was giving himself. Spock felt a surge of something. Something. Yet, he understood that there had been a disconnect. “I have been too gentle with you, I see now. You really are my little slut.” The Captain was moaning, whining, writhing on his hand, and Spock was fucking his fist in time with the movements.
“Mister Spock,” Jim whined out, lustily, making Spock’s stomach clench and his dick swell almost imperceptibly. “I don’t want to…I need you. I need you…” he begged, “so fucking pretty,” Spock breathed out, stilling Jim’s wrist and pulling his fingers from his whole. Ignoring his whimper of loss he lined himself up, pressing inside slowly.
Even as much as he’d opened himself up, Spock was big, and it was a tight fit. He waited, for a moment, but Jim’s nails were scratching down his back, and he couldn’t hold himself for long before he was thrusting mindlessly into his lover. The words out of his mouth were a shock even to himself.
“Mine,” he growled, “you are mine. Your ass is mine. Your hole is mine. And you to not touch things that belong to me without my consent.”
“Yes. God, God, Spock, yes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t stop,” his thrusts were hard, and fast, forceful. He would have called them reckless if he hadn’t seen with his own eyes that this was exactly how Jim wanted it. The Captain was so tight, so hot around him, he clenched his eyes closed, the visual of his superior officer falling apart beneath him proving to be too much.
Once he was sure he had himself together, he leaned in, teeth grazing the shell of Jim’s ear. “Who do your orgasms belong to?” Jim shuddered almost violently beneath him, but he answered, voice raw and fucked out, “You.” Spock nodded, thrusting impossibly faster, feeling the effects of Jim’s words tightening in his belly. They wouldn’t last much longer.
“You will not come without me. You will not come unless I tell you to.” He gritted out, and Jim nodded, eyes glazed, just agreeing. “Such a good fucking slut…How did I get such a good fucking slut,” he murmured fondly, still pounding in to the younger man like the world would fall apart if he stopped. And it might, some ridiculous part of him thought, it might.
Reaching down, he wrapped a hot hand around the Captain’s cock, and began stroking furiously. Jim’s back bowed off the couch, chasing the touch. He’d been fucked silent, mouth hanging open, lips wet and pink, breathing harshly. After three pumps to his dick, though, he started talking again.
“Spock, please, I can’t, I’m so close, so close, please…” he babbled. “Not yet.” Was Spock’s firm reply. Jim whimpered, broken, “Please. I can’t…I can’t…” Spock was close as well, but not yet. He wanted Jim to come as Spock was spurting inside of him. He wanted to be selfish, to come first. He wanted, it to be about his pleasure, still part furious that something he considered his had carried on without him. Jim wasn’t supposed to get like this unless he did it. Nothing was supposed to push this button but him.
And just like that, he was coming, hot, angry, violent into Jim, who was still moaning and begging for release. “Now, Pet. Come now,” and Jim spilled over his hand, onto his belly, a high keening sound coming out of him like he couldn’t stop it.
When they’d cleaned up and collapsed together, Kirk took his hand. “It’s never as good, without you,” he said quietly, sensing that Spock was still upset. “You’re all I can think about. I imagine my fingers are yours, or your cock…God…” The Commander turned to look at him. “Before we leave, I want you to think about what I am asking you for. I am asking, for the seven days that we are absent, to posses you, to own you entirely.” Jim shivered, but nodded all the same. “I fully intend to ruin you, Pet. To wreck you. You will never again even think of coming without asking. That is what I need from you. You need time to consider.”
Jim snorted. “No, I don’t. The answer is yes. A thousand times.” Spock opened his mouth to speak but Jim just held up a hand, “But I’ll take the time. I’ll consider. You’ll know that I made a well thought out decision, if nothing else.” Spock nodded.
Eventually, Jim fell asleep, but Spock stayed awake, thinking about what exactly had overcome him. Masturbation was a normal human function, one that the Captain had partaken in multiple times since the nature of their relationship had changed, and the Commander had never been bothered. What was happening, that this had changed so suddenly, so violently? It was an interesting puzzle, one he had every intention of dedicating significant amounts of thought to until, “I can’t sleep when you think that hard,” Jim muttered, voice sleep thick already, “don’t shut it off. I can feel it when you’re gone. I don’t like it. Just…think happy thoughts or something. I’m offended, you know, that we just had really great sex and you can’t think happy thoughts.”
Spock smiled, running a hand up and down Jim’s back, and started pushing Vulcan and human terms of endearment into his mind. Jim fell asleep again with a smile plastered firmly to his face.