Growth: Chapter Five
Title: Growth
Chapter: One Two Three Four Five Six Six.5 Seven Eight Nine Nine.5 Ten Eleven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Slash, MPREG, gratuitous use of Vulcan language (vocal and body), sex, somewhat mediocre writing; stuff like that. For this chapter? Girl talk, flower eating, and sex.
Summary: Sequel to “Of Convenience”. Entering a new chapter in life is difficult when you’re single. As a pair? Let’s just say Spock and Kirk are going to have their work cut out for them if this chapter’s going to end the way they want it to.
Five days after Spock was released from sick bay, Enterprise had entered New Vulcan’s orbit. Jim was presently in conference with two elders via private vidscreen, and Spock was paying careful mind to the feedback the bond provided him. Nothing particularly unusual came of it, and so Spock continued his work.
Perhaps due to the close proximity of the ship to the colony, Nyota’s eyes flickered to him more often than usual, lingering at times and shifting away whenever he moved to return her gaze. The occurrence repeated itself six times throughout the last two hours of his shift. When shift itself ended, he made his way to the mess hall, aware that she was behind him.
“Is there something about which you wish to speak?” he asked as she followed him through the entrance to the mess. Her steps faltered, but only for a moment. She walked past him, taking a seat at an empty table and gesturing for him to join her. He obeyed, lowering himself with some care. His healing sternum protested.
She met his eyes. “What provoked Komack?” she asked. For a moment, Spock wondered if she might already know, but an instant later, that thought left him. She would not ask if she already knew. She was not that kind of person.
“I believe he was already quite unstable long before he came aboard Enterprise,” Spock offered. Slight indecision entered into his thoughts, but he pushed it away. He had always been honest with her, and he was not going to change this now. He looked into her eyes. “Before he requested to observe the bridge, he came into knowledge of my miscarriage. His words on the bridge suggest to me that my…fertility, I suppose, was the primary motivation for his attack.”
Nyota was quiet for a moment. “I thought it might’ve been something like that,” she admitted. “He always has been prejudiced against interspecies marriage, let alone offspring.”
“So I have heard,” Spock nodded. There was another brief interlude of silence. “Your purpose in following me, however, was not simply to obtain this information.”
It was not a baseless accusation. Her shoulders barely tensed, but he saw it. It was as telling as if she’d shouted. She straightened her spine, leveling her eyes with his. “This has the potential to be a long conversation,” she informed him. “If you’re hungry, you might want to get something to eat while we talk.”
He nodded, rising from the table. He did indeed wish to consume something, but it was rather…specific. It was uncertain whether the replicator would be capable of providing it. Nevertheless, he keyed in his code and, with as little hesitation as possible, gave his order. “Carnation petals. Loose.”
There was hardly a pause before the replicator provided a bowl filled to brimming with petals. He retrieved it, carrying it back to the table with a fork. Nyota stared at his choice.
“Flowers?” she asked. He inclined his head in the affirmative.
“To Vulcans, the petals of Terran flowers are a delicacy,” he informed her. “I was curious as to whether our replicators could reproduce them. If these prove satisfactory, I believe they will be appropriate for any diplomatic or memorial dinners held while we are here.”
In reality, he simply could not have eaten anything else at the moment. He echoed this thought to Jim through the bond, only to have amusement projected back at him. He would determine the possible reasons for his reaction later.
Nyota raised an eyebrow, but she did not question further. Instead, she tilted her head. “You have a psychic connection with the captain,” she said simply. He nodded. “I don’t want him to hear this conversation. Can you block it?”
Spock speared a petal, lifting it to the level of his mouth. “He hears nothing that I do not permit him to.”
She relaxed visibly. “Good,” she sighed. “It’s a bit personal, though. I hope it doesn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
“Perhaps any discomfort can be circumvented by being direct,” he suggested. “What do you wish to discuss?”
He pulled the petal into his mouth, savoring it for a moment before biting into it. Its unique flavor burst across his tongue, bitter and indulgent. It was apparent that the process of replication had not adulterated the flora in any way, the petals tasting every way the same as those found in abundance on Terra. He refocused on Nyota, whose gaze rested on his forehead rather than on his eyes.
“I broke up with Leonard,” she said gently, “and I have no idea why.”
He paused for a moment, swallowing the petal as he did so. “I am perhaps not the best person with whom you should have this conversation,” he suggested evenly. Her eyes locked onto his.
“I ended our relationship feeling the same way,” she told him firmly. “I didn’t know why I was ending things. It just seemed like it had to happen. All of my relationships have been this way, and I don’t know why.”
He chewed another petal thoughtfully. True, she had been quite abrupt in ending their liaison, and for some time he had pondered the reasoning behind it. “Do you believe it to be a problem of compatibility?” he asked. She reached into his bowl and plucked out a petal, sniffing it.
“I don’t see why it would be,” she shrugged. “I’m an academic. I need other academics. I’ve always been attracted to cool logic and empiricism.”
Spock watched her nibble the edge of the petal, a disapproving look forming on her face. “Then it would not be incorrect to say the commonalities in your failed relationships are empiricists and, of course, yourself,” he observed. She bristled for a moment, but after considering it, she nodded. “Only one of these can be changed, Nyota. Perhaps what you perceive to be compatibility is no more than superficial attraction.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Your reasoning?”
He finished the bowl before answering. “I am speaking from experience,” he admitted. She blinked. “I pursued relationships with two other individuals similar to you before we began our liaison, Nyota,” he told her. How surreal it was to be discussing it when bonded. “Jim, however, is quite unlike any of you, and our compatibility continues to be a source of intrigue for both of us. I would not have thought us compatible.”
Nyota was silent for a long moment. “If it isn’t working, you should change things up - right?”
“Precisely my point.”
She stood and walked to the replicator, and when she returned she was holding a cup of coffee. She did not sit back down. “I’ll figure something out,” she said. And then, quite abruptly, “I hear Komack’s court martial is set for one standard month from tomorrow. Do we testify in person or by vidscreen?”
“We will be transmitting our testimonies through vidscreen,” he told her. She nodded, sipping the coffee.
“Okay. I’m going to engineering, then,” she informed him. He nodded. “Let me know when everything is figured out about New Vulcan.”
He waved her off, replacing his bowl in the proper receptacle. Appropriately, Jim’s voice came through the bond as he exited the mess.
Get to our quarters, Spock. I’ve got plans.
Spock spared a glance at a monitor nearby, noting there were approximately four hours before they were needed anywhere.
There would certainly be time for Jim’s ‘plans’.
He made his way to their quarters and, with no preamble, entered his code and stepped inside. The door hardly closed before Jim had him pinned to it, eyes filled with heat. There was a telling hardness against his thigh, and the look on his face betrayed everything.
“Why hello, Mr. Spock,” he murmured, hands traveling over Spock’s chest. His fingers paused to pinch his nipples through his shirt, and Spock permitted himself to shudder. Lust rolled off his husband in thick waves, wrapping around him and dulling his reasoning. Their couplings had never been filled with such unbridled desire, and he found his body responding to the mental stimulus in excess.
Spock began working his shirt off, but Jim stopped him, leaning down to latch his mouth around a nipple through the cloth. His hands abandoned their quest, instead traveling down to mold Jim’s buttocks. He reveled in the firmness of the muscle there, the strength it suggested, and groaned.
Jim pulled back quickly. “We need to get this to the bed,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not gonna last long, and I want us to come together.”
It was a sentiment Spock could immediately appreciate, and he immediately led Jim to their bed, pushing him onto it and moving to bite and suck at the side of his neck. The thought occurred to him that he might leave a mark, and that alone was stimulating. He let that slip through the bond, wondering if Jim might want to mark him as well. Jim’s breath puffed against his ear.
“I already left a mark,” he rasped. “Tomorrow, all the Vulcans who come near you will be able to smell it. If Stonn could tell you were fertile, I bet they’ll all be able to tell you’re pregnant. It’s not going to be too hard for them to guess who did it.”
That thought caused a surge of white hot pleasure to flit through his body. It was true - everyone they encountered would be able to tell he belonged to Jim. An insatiable need hit him, and he redoubled his efforts on Jim’s neck, nibbling and suckling ferociously. Jim belonged to him as much as he belonged to Jim, and he was going to make that as obvious as possible.
Jim obviously took well to this idea, bucking up under him as he pulled away to examine his work. “If it’s no good, you can fix it later,” he groaned. “Turn around. Now.”
Spock obeyed hastily, flipping so he faced Jim’s hips, working the zipper down as quickly as he could and freeing Jim’s erection. He had scarcely seen it so engorged, and there was a telling shudder from the man when he took it in hand. Jim worked to free him as well, and before Spock realized the man had been successful, he was engulfed in a wet, cool mouth.
For a moment, his mind blanked, but when he came to his senses, he moved to take Jim into his mouth. It had been some time since they had engaged in this style of intercourse, but they fell into a natural rhythm quickly enough. Spock did what he could to distract himself from what Jim’s actions were doing to him, concentrating on the taste and texture of Jim’s flesh in his mouth.
Indeed, neither of them lasted very long, Jim coming first, flooding Spock’s mouth. The Vulcan swallowed, wincing at the taste, but even that was ignorable when Jim moaned and hummed around him, pulling him into his own orgasm.
Once he was conscious enough to do so, Spock turned himself so he was face to face with his husband. Utter contentment and satiation rolled off Jim, the tiniest of grins evident on his face. He let him catch his breath, laying in silence for a few minutes. And then, after kissing him once, he propped himself up on one elbow.
“Might I inquire as to what motivated you so strongly to initiate a sexual encounter midday?” he asked. Jim looked up at him and, as well as he could laying on his back, shrugged.
“Isn’t being married awesome?” he offered. There was utter sincerity in his words, as well as some amusement. “And, ah. I might have been thinking about it ever since you sent me that info about you craving flower petals for lunch. Is that a normal Vulcan pregnancy craving?”
Spock blinked. “Precisely what is a ‘pregnancy craving’?”
Jim’s only response was to turn his face into the mattress and laugh.
Previous Chapter ------------------ Next Chapter
Chapter: One Two Three Four Five Six Six.5 Seven Eight Nine Nine.5 Ten Eleven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Slash, MPREG, gratuitous use of Vulcan language (vocal and body), sex, somewhat mediocre writing; stuff like that. For this chapter? Girl talk, flower eating, and sex.
Summary: Sequel to “Of Convenience”. Entering a new chapter in life is difficult when you’re single. As a pair? Let’s just say Spock and Kirk are going to have their work cut out for them if this chapter’s going to end the way they want it to.
Five days after Spock was released from sick bay, Enterprise had entered New Vulcan’s orbit. Jim was presently in conference with two elders via private vidscreen, and Spock was paying careful mind to the feedback the bond provided him. Nothing particularly unusual came of it, and so Spock continued his work.
Perhaps due to the close proximity of the ship to the colony, Nyota’s eyes flickered to him more often than usual, lingering at times and shifting away whenever he moved to return her gaze. The occurrence repeated itself six times throughout the last two hours of his shift. When shift itself ended, he made his way to the mess hall, aware that she was behind him.
“Is there something about which you wish to speak?” he asked as she followed him through the entrance to the mess. Her steps faltered, but only for a moment. She walked past him, taking a seat at an empty table and gesturing for him to join her. He obeyed, lowering himself with some care. His healing sternum protested.
She met his eyes. “What provoked Komack?” she asked. For a moment, Spock wondered if she might already know, but an instant later, that thought left him. She would not ask if she already knew. She was not that kind of person.
“I believe he was already quite unstable long before he came aboard Enterprise,” Spock offered. Slight indecision entered into his thoughts, but he pushed it away. He had always been honest with her, and he was not going to change this now. He looked into her eyes. “Before he requested to observe the bridge, he came into knowledge of my miscarriage. His words on the bridge suggest to me that my…fertility, I suppose, was the primary motivation for his attack.”
Nyota was quiet for a moment. “I thought it might’ve been something like that,” she admitted. “He always has been prejudiced against interspecies marriage, let alone offspring.”
“So I have heard,” Spock nodded. There was another brief interlude of silence. “Your purpose in following me, however, was not simply to obtain this information.”
It was not a baseless accusation. Her shoulders barely tensed, but he saw it. It was as telling as if she’d shouted. She straightened her spine, leveling her eyes with his. “This has the potential to be a long conversation,” she informed him. “If you’re hungry, you might want to get something to eat while we talk.”
He nodded, rising from the table. He did indeed wish to consume something, but it was rather…specific. It was uncertain whether the replicator would be capable of providing it. Nevertheless, he keyed in his code and, with as little hesitation as possible, gave his order. “Carnation petals. Loose.”
There was hardly a pause before the replicator provided a bowl filled to brimming with petals. He retrieved it, carrying it back to the table with a fork. Nyota stared at his choice.
“Flowers?” she asked. He inclined his head in the affirmative.
“To Vulcans, the petals of Terran flowers are a delicacy,” he informed her. “I was curious as to whether our replicators could reproduce them. If these prove satisfactory, I believe they will be appropriate for any diplomatic or memorial dinners held while we are here.”
In reality, he simply could not have eaten anything else at the moment. He echoed this thought to Jim through the bond, only to have amusement projected back at him. He would determine the possible reasons for his reaction later.
Nyota raised an eyebrow, but she did not question further. Instead, she tilted her head. “You have a psychic connection with the captain,” she said simply. He nodded. “I don’t want him to hear this conversation. Can you block it?”
Spock speared a petal, lifting it to the level of his mouth. “He hears nothing that I do not permit him to.”
She relaxed visibly. “Good,” she sighed. “It’s a bit personal, though. I hope it doesn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
“Perhaps any discomfort can be circumvented by being direct,” he suggested. “What do you wish to discuss?”
He pulled the petal into his mouth, savoring it for a moment before biting into it. Its unique flavor burst across his tongue, bitter and indulgent. It was apparent that the process of replication had not adulterated the flora in any way, the petals tasting every way the same as those found in abundance on Terra. He refocused on Nyota, whose gaze rested on his forehead rather than on his eyes.
“I broke up with Leonard,” she said gently, “and I have no idea why.”
He paused for a moment, swallowing the petal as he did so. “I am perhaps not the best person with whom you should have this conversation,” he suggested evenly. Her eyes locked onto his.
“I ended our relationship feeling the same way,” she told him firmly. “I didn’t know why I was ending things. It just seemed like it had to happen. All of my relationships have been this way, and I don’t know why.”
He chewed another petal thoughtfully. True, she had been quite abrupt in ending their liaison, and for some time he had pondered the reasoning behind it. “Do you believe it to be a problem of compatibility?” he asked. She reached into his bowl and plucked out a petal, sniffing it.
“I don’t see why it would be,” she shrugged. “I’m an academic. I need other academics. I’ve always been attracted to cool logic and empiricism.”
Spock watched her nibble the edge of the petal, a disapproving look forming on her face. “Then it would not be incorrect to say the commonalities in your failed relationships are empiricists and, of course, yourself,” he observed. She bristled for a moment, but after considering it, she nodded. “Only one of these can be changed, Nyota. Perhaps what you perceive to be compatibility is no more than superficial attraction.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Your reasoning?”
He finished the bowl before answering. “I am speaking from experience,” he admitted. She blinked. “I pursued relationships with two other individuals similar to you before we began our liaison, Nyota,” he told her. How surreal it was to be discussing it when bonded. “Jim, however, is quite unlike any of you, and our compatibility continues to be a source of intrigue for both of us. I would not have thought us compatible.”
Nyota was silent for a long moment. “If it isn’t working, you should change things up - right?”
“Precisely my point.”
She stood and walked to the replicator, and when she returned she was holding a cup of coffee. She did not sit back down. “I’ll figure something out,” she said. And then, quite abruptly, “I hear Komack’s court martial is set for one standard month from tomorrow. Do we testify in person or by vidscreen?”
“We will be transmitting our testimonies through vidscreen,” he told her. She nodded, sipping the coffee.
“Okay. I’m going to engineering, then,” she informed him. He nodded. “Let me know when everything is figured out about New Vulcan.”
He waved her off, replacing his bowl in the proper receptacle. Appropriately, Jim’s voice came through the bond as he exited the mess.
Get to our quarters, Spock. I’ve got plans.
Spock spared a glance at a monitor nearby, noting there were approximately four hours before they were needed anywhere.
There would certainly be time for Jim’s ‘plans’.
He made his way to their quarters and, with no preamble, entered his code and stepped inside. The door hardly closed before Jim had him pinned to it, eyes filled with heat. There was a telling hardness against his thigh, and the look on his face betrayed everything.
“Why hello, Mr. Spock,” he murmured, hands traveling over Spock’s chest. His fingers paused to pinch his nipples through his shirt, and Spock permitted himself to shudder. Lust rolled off his husband in thick waves, wrapping around him and dulling his reasoning. Their couplings had never been filled with such unbridled desire, and he found his body responding to the mental stimulus in excess.
Spock began working his shirt off, but Jim stopped him, leaning down to latch his mouth around a nipple through the cloth. His hands abandoned their quest, instead traveling down to mold Jim’s buttocks. He reveled in the firmness of the muscle there, the strength it suggested, and groaned.
Jim pulled back quickly. “We need to get this to the bed,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not gonna last long, and I want us to come together.”
It was a sentiment Spock could immediately appreciate, and he immediately led Jim to their bed, pushing him onto it and moving to bite and suck at the side of his neck. The thought occurred to him that he might leave a mark, and that alone was stimulating. He let that slip through the bond, wondering if Jim might want to mark him as well. Jim’s breath puffed against his ear.
“I already left a mark,” he rasped. “Tomorrow, all the Vulcans who come near you will be able to smell it. If Stonn could tell you were fertile, I bet they’ll all be able to tell you’re pregnant. It’s not going to be too hard for them to guess who did it.”
That thought caused a surge of white hot pleasure to flit through his body. It was true - everyone they encountered would be able to tell he belonged to Jim. An insatiable need hit him, and he redoubled his efforts on Jim’s neck, nibbling and suckling ferociously. Jim belonged to him as much as he belonged to Jim, and he was going to make that as obvious as possible.
Jim obviously took well to this idea, bucking up under him as he pulled away to examine his work. “If it’s no good, you can fix it later,” he groaned. “Turn around. Now.”
Spock obeyed hastily, flipping so he faced Jim’s hips, working the zipper down as quickly as he could and freeing Jim’s erection. He had scarcely seen it so engorged, and there was a telling shudder from the man when he took it in hand. Jim worked to free him as well, and before Spock realized the man had been successful, he was engulfed in a wet, cool mouth.
For a moment, his mind blanked, but when he came to his senses, he moved to take Jim into his mouth. It had been some time since they had engaged in this style of intercourse, but they fell into a natural rhythm quickly enough. Spock did what he could to distract himself from what Jim’s actions were doing to him, concentrating on the taste and texture of Jim’s flesh in his mouth.
Indeed, neither of them lasted very long, Jim coming first, flooding Spock’s mouth. The Vulcan swallowed, wincing at the taste, but even that was ignorable when Jim moaned and hummed around him, pulling him into his own orgasm.
Once he was conscious enough to do so, Spock turned himself so he was face to face with his husband. Utter contentment and satiation rolled off Jim, the tiniest of grins evident on his face. He let him catch his breath, laying in silence for a few minutes. And then, after kissing him once, he propped himself up on one elbow.
“Might I inquire as to what motivated you so strongly to initiate a sexual encounter midday?” he asked. Jim looked up at him and, as well as he could laying on his back, shrugged.
“Isn’t being married awesome?” he offered. There was utter sincerity in his words, as well as some amusement. “And, ah. I might have been thinking about it ever since you sent me that info about you craving flower petals for lunch. Is that a normal Vulcan pregnancy craving?”
Spock blinked. “Precisely what is a ‘pregnancy craving’?”
Jim’s only response was to turn his face into the mattress and laugh.
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