Fic: Helping Hand
Title: Helping Hand
Author: hihielmo
Rating: R
Characters: OMC/Kirk, Spock/Kirk (implied)
Disclaimer: Star Trek doesn’t belong to me.
Word Count: 613
Warnings: Child abuse is heavily implied in this piece. Please be warned.
Summary: A fourteen year old Kirk tries to help out Spock.
Notes: Written for this prompt atst_xi_kink. A deaged 14 year old Kirk tries to give Spock a blowjob (or to fuck him) because that’s how he’s used to appeasing seemingly angry uptight men.
“How did this even happen?” McCoy snaps at Spock who, if he had not be raised Vulcan, would have rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“As I have said,” he says, meeting the doctor’s eyes, “I am not clear as to why this… regression has occurred.” Both men turn almost simultaneously to the fourteen year old Kirk who sits on the sickbay bed between them, swinging his legs and looking bored out of his mind.
“Kirk,” McCoy addresses him, looking wary, “What’s the last thing you can remember?”
“Dunno,” Kirk says and for the second time in two minutes Spock feels the very human urge to roll his eyes.
“Try,” McCoy says harshly and Spock thinks maybe he isn’t the only one fighting with his frustration. Kirk sighs before screwing his face up, trying to remember.
“I think,” he says, “I was in xenobiology class.”
“Well you’re not anymore,” McCoy says.
“Obviously,” Kirk snaps, looking for all his bravado like a terrified fourteen years old kid. McCoy sighs before attempting to explain it all to the kid. And surprisingly, he takes it quite well. Or as well as James T. Kirk can take anything. Sure there is yelling and throwing of objects and more then a little cursing.
But in the end, everyone is up to speed and Kirk is heading back to Spock’s quarters for a night of sleep. Spock still isn’t sure how he got roped into that one, something about needing the beds in the sick bay.
When they reach Spock’s quarters Kirk immediately flops down on Spock’s bed and Spock gives him the equivalent of a Vulcan glare.
“You look uptight,” the young Kirk says and one of Spock’s eyebrow’s raise.
“I suppose many of your kind would interpret my behavior as such,” he says. Kirk slithers off the bed and stands in front of him.
“Ya know,” he says, voice low but eyes nervous, “I know how to help with that.” Spock is confused as to why the young human is looking at him like that.
“Help me?” he asks voice quizzical. Kirk nods eagerly before sinking to his knees in front of Spock.
“What are you doing?” Spock asks, trying to hide his complete and utter confusion at this sudden turn of events.
“D- don’t worry,” Kirk’s young voice shakes and in spite of himself, Spock feels his concern for the boy grow, “My step dad taught me this a long time ago. I’m gonna make everything better.”
Spock chokes on his own breath as a small hand slips into his Star Fleet issues slacks and fumbles around, reaching for his cock. He takes a quick step back and Kirk is left, kneeling on the floor, hand outstretched, eyes lost.
“Why did you…” Spock is a loss for words, not a common occurrence. “Stand up.” The boy stands, looking petrified.
“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “Did I not do it right?” Spock heart aches and he closes his eyes, not used to the rush of emotion filling him.
“It’s fine,” he says and it comes out harsher then he means it too. “It’s just… you don’t need to do that. Not here.”
Suddenly, Kirk is flying forward and wrapping his arms around him, burying his face in Spock’s chest. Spock jerks back in surprise before raising a hand hesitantly and resting it on the sobbing boy’s head.
“It’s alright Jim,” and he doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so full of human emotion, “It’s all going to be alright.”
And it will be, even if he has to kill to make it so. Because no one is going to hurt this boy, this man, his t'hy'la again.