Fic: Wherein Kirk Swears that the ‘T’ Doesn’t Stand for Thickheaded [Kirk/Spock]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: Wherein Kirk Swears that the ‘T’ Doesn’t Stand for Thickheaded
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: K/S
Spoilers: this is based on Star Trek XI
Summary: Based on the prompt: Spock/Kirk, Spock enters Pon Farr while trapped somewhere with Kirk. Kirk is clueless. From the st_xi_kink Meme Part 1, originally posted here.
Word Count: 8,555
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: So, this story is just a thinly veiled excuse for porn. Lots of it, because this fic mutated on me and went from a planned 2,000 words to its much higher count. *helpless hands* Umm, also any kind of plot is strictly accidental and I have no idea how it got there. Feedback is hugely welcomed. And feel free to point out any errors I missed.
*-*-*-*

“We are so screwed.”

Spock’s eyebrow went up just like Jim expected and he had to stifle a grin to try to keep his face solemn.

“Captain, I hardly consider that to be an accurate analysis of our situation,” Spock said.

“Oh really? What would you call it Mr. Spock?” asked Jim. He waved his hand at the damaged shuttlecraft. The flames that had engulfed it just minutes ago were only now starting to subside and thick smoke hung in a haze around the clearing, even reaching Spock and Jim where they’d taken cover a good 100 feet away.

Poor brand spanking new Galileo. We barely knew you.

Jim mourned that he’d only got to pilot her once. Though, he thinks that keeping her from crashing and turning him and Spock into a thin smears of green and red paste really shouldn’t counted as piloting.

“We got hit by a micro-meteor, that just happened to hit a weak point in the deflector shields that covered the fuel cells which just happened to leak away our fuel so that we crashed landed. A crash that damaged our communication equipment so badly we can‘t even call for help or set up a mayday signal. And the Enterprise isn‘t expecting us back for three more days,” Jim continued. “We‘re lucky to be alive but yeah, we‘re also screwed.”

“While I admit that the chances of surviving such a situation and making landing in a largely unexplored system which was fortunate to contain a Class M planet is remarkable low in probability-” admitted Spock.

Jim grinned. “Lucky. Just like I said.”

Spock ignored that. “The Enterprise will no doubt follow the shuttlecraft’s ion trail as there was little deviation in our planned flight path before the micro-meteor stuck the hull and therefore the ship is most likely to find us in less than a period of 4.31 days.”

Jim nodded, but added, “That‘s assuming that they don‘t get delayed in delivering those medicines to Starbase 14. Or that there isn‘t something on this planet that‘ll try to eat us.”

Ever since Spock had marooned him on Delta Vega over a year ago, Jim had a very high expectancy of having random creatures show up out of nowhere to eat him whenever he set foot on new worlds. After the first few weeks, the idea had become rather hilarious.

Spock eyed him. “For all that you are saying our situation is negative, you seem to be in a positive mood. Rather paradoxical, Captain.”

There was a faint hint of disapproval in Spock’s tone that made Jim cock his head at him. He grinned even wider. Jim had no problem admitting to anyone that asked that he loved messing with Spock’s mind. It was just about the most fun a captain could have that wouldn’t get him thrown in the brig or court-martialed.

Though, he wouldn’t be too surprised if he pushed Spock into mutinying one of these days. Bones kept warning him that even Vulcans had their limits. Not that he needed such reminders. But Jim really found it hard to resist trying to make Spock twitch, even if that twitch was just his usual raise of the eyebrow or a tightly clenched jaw.

“Got to prepare for the worst, Spock,” Jim said cheerfully. “Now, we have an entire new world to explore until the Enterprise shows up.” He nearly bounced with eagerness. Jim loved, absolutely loved exploring new places. “How about we take a peek around? I don‘t know about you, but I want to see if there‘s anything we can eat as I‘m not touching those Starfleet protein nibs if I can help it.”

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Jim grabbed a tricorder and a phaser from the pile of stuff they’d pulled off the Galileo before it had burst into flames. It wasn’t much. A survival pack for each of them, a med-kit, two tricorders, a tool kit, a pair of communicators and the vile protein nibs.

“Captain, I would like to try to see if I can reprogram the tricorder to produce a signal that will help the Enterprise locate us at a more expedient rate than having to rely on a planet wide sensor sweep,” Spock said. He was opening the tool kit before Jim said a word.

“You do that Mr. Spock. Just keep your communicator close by,” Jim ordered, and he set off.

The day had only just broken. The dew of morning still clung to a lot of the vegetation, so Jim figured that they had plenty of time before they had to set up camp for the night. And he was curious to see what this planet held.

As Spock had said, this star system was largely unexplored. In part because there were no other present civilizations that had drawn the attention of the Federation nor did it have the rarer minerals that made it a point of interest for scientists or miners. A cursory expedition had marked it as boring about a decade ago and since then no other Federation vessels had stopped by.

Hell, Jim himself, wouldn’t even have bothered to learn even that much about it if he didn’t have a first officer who was very thorough when it came to such things. He’d gotten the whole lecture on their flight plans and nearby star systems during the initial trip out to Marcus V. And because he’d been trapped in the same shuttle as Spock, he hadn’t exactly been able to keep some of the information from sinking in.

Jim spent a good two hours exploring a field and the surrounding woods that was less than a mile from the crash point. There he found a creek of clear running water that the tricorder cleared of any biological contaminants

He rather liked the spot and thought that he and Spock could set up base there. The weather was mild enough that they shouldn’t need much in the way of shelter. Also he hadn’t spotted any animal trails leading from the water. Which meant they shouldn’t have to worry too much about predators. Yet, even if they did show up, they had their phasers.

Jim hadn’t seen anything edible yet, but he wasn’t giving up hope to find something in the forest before long. Scotty’s hatred of the Starfleet protein nibs had affected him and Jim wasn’t looking forward to having them for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next four days straight.

Spock would probably start to look edible by that point.

Grinning at that thought, Jim strolled back to where he’d left his first officer bowed over a tricorder only to find Spock sitting down, with his legs tucked neatly underneath him. Spock’s eyes closed, and his face set with a tightness that made Jim think of desperation, if it had been anyone other than Spock.

“Hey, Spock,” he said. Spock’s mouth tightened, though his eyes remained closed.

Jim planted his hands on his hips and stared down at his first officer. As tempted as he was to try to provoke some sort of reaction from Spock, he really did have self-control, no matter what Bones said. It was probably better not to incite Spock into killing him before they’d even been marooned together for a day.

He had plenty of time for that later.

“I found the perfect place to camp out! I‘ll get us set up, why don‘t you find me as soon as you‘re done meditating, huh?” said Jim. He left the stuff that wasn’t needed to set up base with Spock. He only grabbed the bare essentials, because it wasn’t like he could juggle everything and keep an eye out for danger.

“Be sure to check in with me in an hour,” he continued, and walked back to the spot he’d picked.

It wasn’t until that hour later, after he’d had a tent set up and the beginning of a camp fire ready for wood and tinder that it struck him that it was odd that Spock hadn’t said a word. Not even an acknowledgement of Jim’s orders.

And now he failed to check in when Jim had told him to.

Frowning and becoming more concerned than he’d ever admit to, Jim flipped over his communicator. It chirped to signal an open line. “Kirk here. Spock, acknowledge.”

No response.

“Spock, this is the Captain. Pick up!”

More silence. Jim started heading back to where he’d left him. He tried twice more to get a hold of Spock before he flipped the communicator close.

He was halfway back when the communicator beeped.

“Spock here, Captain.”

“Spock!” Jim exclaimed. He grabbed the communicator. “Are you alright? Why didn‘t you respond.”

All Jim heard from Spock was a swallow.

“Spock?”

Jim started running. Something had to be wrong. Spock was acting too strange.

He arrived to find Spock still sitting on the ground. His hands were clenched into the top soil, digging in, as if he thought if he let go then he would fly up into the sky.

“Spock,” Jim said.

“Captain,” said Spock harshly.

Jim looked around, but there wasn’t anything around that could explain Spock’s weird behavior.

Spock stood shakily to his feet. He looked so wobbly that Jim reached out to steady him. Spock jerked back, so that Jim’s fingers only skimmed the edges of his uniform. Spock shuddered and took a step backward, away from him.

Jim dropped his hands and stared at him in bewilderment, and with a smidgeon of hurt he’d deny to his dying day.

“Captain. I do believe that it would be better if I spent the night here, near the shuttlecraft,” Spock said, his voice calmer than before.

Jim could practically see every bit of effort his first officer was exuding just to keep his face expressionless, in the tense lines of his body.

Jim crossed his arms. “Oh really? And what makes you think that‘s a good idea?”

Spock opened his mouth to answer but Jim just plowed on

“Staying apart all night on a strange planet is hardly protocol,” Jim scolded him.

“Yes, Captain, but considering the possibility that the shuttlecraft could draw attention-”

“No,” said Jim. “The camp is not that far away. We‘re sticking together.” Jim started smiling. “Surely you can tolerate my presence for the next four days.”

Spock swallowed again. “Very well, Captain. I shall endeavor to accomplish this monumental task.”

Jim snorted with amusement.

He picked up the rest of the supplies he’d left behind last time. Normally, Jim would have made the much stronger Spock carry them, but he still looked like a stiff wind would blow him over.

Jim began to wish that he’d been able to talk Bones into joining the mission. But not even a direct order had been enough to get the doctor to overcome his aviophobia at the idea of being stuck in a shuttle for the hours the trip would have taken.

Though, even if he’d been with us, Bones would probably have killed himself from a heart attack before we even finished crashing, Jim thought in amusement.

His eyes flickered to the dead shuttle and to Spock, who was looking a little better.

“Don‘t worry, Spock. The days will go by pretty fast, and before you know it we‘ll be back on the Enterprise and you won‘t have the pleasure of my company all to yourself,” said Jim.

Spock just nodded.

Reassured that Spock wouldn’t keel over in the next minute, Jim started talking about the camp base, and how he thought he found some berries that were edible.
*-*-*-*

Jim blinked his eyes rapidly, disoriented to find himself surrounded by pitch blackness. He shook his head and tugged his sleeping bag down as he tried to figure out what had woken him up.

Then a low grunt from Spock’s side of the tent made Jim’s eyes widen.

Oh! Wait was he really-?!

Jim tried to pretend that he was still asleep as he eagerly listened, trying to hear Spock more clearly. He heard the wet slick sounds of a hand moving over a hard-on, choked back moans of desperation that made Jim harden.

That such sounds were coming from Spock- of all people- and with Jim practically next to him, separated only by a couple of feet of tent.

Jim held his breath.

“Ooh,” whispered Spock. The edge of desperation grew was sharper as Spock began panting fast, and faster.

Then, a frustrated whimper, and Jim heard Spock stop.

Jim bit his lower lip, to keep in his request that Spock continue, that he not stop. Not now.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, and he didn’t really want to embarrass the man. Masturbation was only natural, though Spock being Vulcan probably meant he didn’t see it that way. He’d been broken up with Uhura for a few of months now. It made sense that he was feeling that desperate itch. Jim understood too well, his own dry spell has been going on far too long.

And really, just because Jim was more turned on right now than he’d been in months just from listening to Spock was no reason to exploit him that way. Even if it was unintentional.

Jim kept himself still as Spock stirred. He listened to soft, stumbling steps as Spock headed out of the tent.

Jim opened his eyes again, and unable to resist, pushed down his pants and he palmed his erection.

He could hear Spock pacing outside of the tent, a low snarl coming from him that made Jim tightened his grip on his cock, shoving a fist into his mouth to muffle himself. His other hand was now moving faster, his cock leaking pre-come and slicking his palm and fingers.

From outside, he heard Spock moan again.

And it was like a lightning bolt of lust and pleasure, taking him completely off-guard.

Jim came hard, his spine bowing, whiting out, wet heat spilling across his hand, and even his fucking toes curled in pleasure.

Jim breathed fast, his mouth and eyes wide as he gulped for air heavy with the scent of semen. And he flushed as he realized that Spock would smell it once he came back to the tent.

Then there was no way that Spock wouldn’t know he’d been listening to him.

Mentally swearing, Jim sat up, reaching for where he’d tossed the black inner uniform shirt he’d been wearing earlier, and wiped himself clean. He was very grateful that the survival kit came with extra shirts. He’d hate to have to do laundry or to explain to Spock why he needed to.

He listened hard for Spock as he moved to get rid of the evidence but he heard nothing. Curiosity got the better of him, and Jim poked his head out the tent flaps. The dim green lights of the perimeter alarms were the only specks of light other than the far off stars.

Frowning, Jim realized that Spock had left the camp when he’d been too busy to pay attention.

He swore and fished out a light from the survival kit.

Spock had just gone off into the night without so much the extra phaser. Jim would be a terrible captain if he didn’t go and get him back.

After all, embarrassed Vulcan or no embarrassed Vulcan, Spock should not have left without letting him know.
*-*-*-*

It took Jim longer than he liked to find the trail that Spock had left behind.

Spock hadn’t exactly been subtle. If it had been daylight, then Jim would have see it without a problem as there were broken branches and torn ground leading like bread crumbs in the direction of his first officer. But this planet didn’t have a moon, which made the night have a deeper shade of black than Jim would have liked and made the task of tracking Spock down that much harder. The small hand-light only lit up so much.

It didn’t help that he was growing worried about Spock the longer he walked without catching sight of him.

Jim couldn’t remember a single other occasion where Spock had acted like this. Not even from any reports from before Jim had been the captain. And he had been careful to read everything he could get his hands on about the Enterprise and her crew. He’d even read a few things that were technically above his security clearance. Which he justified by if they were really that important then they should have been better guarded and encrypted.

Spock was usually such a stickler for following regulations - the man had even taken himself off duty when he’d realized he’d been emotionally compromised - that terrible day of Vulcan’s destruction. Jim didn’t think he’d be so willing to bow to regulations if the roles had been reversed, then or even now.

There was nothing here on this bland Class M planet that would make Spock act like this. At least, there shouldn’t be.

It just made Jim all that more determined to pin Spock down and order some answers out of him.

What am I missing? he wondered. He did hope that this had nothing to do with Nyota Uhura.

Now there was a topic he wasn’t going to breech to Spock even if he was threatened with being set on fire.

The breakup hadn’t exactly been amicable. In fact it had taken a solid week before those two could even be on the bridge together without it feeling like the temperature had been set to winter chill. And the funny thing, the break up had been Uhura‘s idea. He’d heard, from Bones, who’d gotten it from one of his nurses, who was actually friends with the lieutenant, that it had been her decision to break up with Spock.

Yet, the cold shoulder. There were times when Jim really didn’t think he’d get any kind of handle on the female mind.

Fortunately, she and Spock had buried the hatchet some weeks ago and the fragile ceasefire had been holding true since then. Jim didn’t want to be the one to start off the war again simply from his clumsy questions, but if Uhura was the reason Spock was acting so weird…

Damn it all to hell. Damn Vulcan first officers and their former girlfriends, he needed to know.

It was then he felt a sense of unease. As if he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a cold chill trembled down his spine. Every instinct Jim was telling him that something very dangerous lurked out in those dark woods.

He straightened and pulled out his phaser.

The blue glow of the gun made him even more uneasy instead of reassured. The light was practically the equivalent of painting a target on his back, making him too easy to see in the darkness. He swore to himself, but he didn’t have any other weapon. He mentally made a note to bring this design flaw to Starfleet‘s attention.

His eyes were struggling to pick out any movement, flashing the light around, when he was hit. Tackled to the ground, his phaser spun off into the woods like a blue shooting star, vanishing to nothing. His light breaking with a crack.

Jim gasped and twisted, trying to face his attacker. Dirt and broken leaves under his hands. He got an elbow into his attacker’s guts, and managed turn enough to follow it with a knee.

The gasp he earned made Jim freeze.

“Spock?”

The only answer Jim got was harsh breathing, and the hot hands holding him down slowly let go.

“Spock?” he tried again. This couldn’t possibly be the result of sexual frustration from his break up with Uhura. It had to be something on the planet that had gotten to Spock.

Images of the horrible xeno-parasites he’d once seen in one of Bone’s textbooks while back in the Academy flittered through Jim’s mind. The very idea of such a disgusting creature infecting Spock made him swallow down hard to control the nausea in his gut.

“…Captain, you need to run. Get as far from me as you can,” Spock whispered fiercely.

Jim blinked. “What?!”

“Captain, please. Jim. Run!” Spock’s voice was so desperate it practically broke Jim’s heart.

“No!” said Jim, fierce and without hesitation. “Let me help you.” His mind was already whirling over the inventory of medicines stocked in med kit, and whether there was anything there they could use to fix Spock.

And once again, he wished that he’d shoved Bones into the shuttlecraft with him instead of having sympathy and letting him wiggle out of coming. No mercy next time, he promised himself.

Spock moaned and before Jim could ask him what was wrong, Spock’s mouth crushed down on his own.

Jim froze for a split second and then kissed him back. It was hard to resist, he’d been fantasizing about Spock for months now. It had taken more self-control than he knew he had to keep his hands off his first officer, especially after he was a free man, but Jim had managed by telling himself that there was no way that Spock would be interested.

Just one kiss. One kiss, then I’ll figure out what’s going on, Jim swore it.

But the one kiss became two then three. Jim was unable to resist pulling Spock closer to him, until his body settled against his own. Spock’s higher body heat was even more sharply contrasted against the cool night air.

Spock’s hands tightened on his shirt, ripping it until Jim’s chest was exposed. Jim gasped as Spock’s mouth dropped to his neck, then down to his chest. Teeth bit at his nipples, making Jim writhe. Spock’s hands settled down on his hips, holding Jim still as Spock’s hot mouth licked down to his stomach.

Jim panted, and suddenly - desperately - wished that he could see Spock. See him flushed, his mouth shining, and the heat of lust in those normally cool dark eyes.

“Wait-” he tried. This would be better at the camp, with light, sleeping bags and more importantly, lube.

Spock stopped, and then… growled.

Holy fuck!

Jim could actually feel his blood rushing to his cock from that sound. He couldn’t choke back a whimper, and he bucked up against Spock’s hands, trying to grind his hard-on against Spock’s body.

Frustrated he wasn’t able to get the friction he wanted, Jim grabbed Spock’s shoulders, and managed to roll them both so that he was on top of him. Jim kissed him, and his hands started to tear open at Spock’s pants. As soon, as Jim freed his erection, he ground down, pressing his own cock right against Spock’s.

Spock’s breathing was speeding up, and Jim could feel the thrum of his heartbeat also racing where he his hands had drifted down to Spock’s sides.

He wrapped a hand around both of their cocks, pressing them together, palming them up and down, pressing his fingers against the thick vein of Spock’s erection, then against the leaking crown.

Spock groaned again, and bowed under Jim, nearly tossing him off. Jim shifted and spread his legs so his thighs held Spock between them. Jim panted harder, and pressed his mouth to Spock’s neck, licking and tasting a faint tang salt and copper, up to Spock’s mouth.

Spock’s mouth opened, and Jim eagerly flicked his tongue inside, pressing hard against him just as his hand tightened.

Spock’s entire body tensed, and wet heat spilled across Jim’s hand, and the feel of Spock’s semen made Jim come with a muffled shout.
*-*-*-*

Jim was grinning hard as his sprawled happily on Spock, enjoying the feeling of lassitude that had reduced his limbs to warm jelly, so it took him a moment to notice that Spock was entirely too still beneath him.

“Spock? You okay?” Jim asked in concern, raising his head from Spock‘s shoulder.

Fuck, why did he go and let his hormones get the better of him? He knew better, or at least, he thought he did.

“I‘m in control of myself for the moment, Captain,” Spock said quietly, his voice cool and smooth as glass. And about as expressive.

Jim snorted in amusement and relief. “I really think you should call me Jim.” He spilled himself to the side, so he was no longer pressing his entire weight on Spock‘s chest. He absently tucked himself away and then pulled at the torn shirt, wondering exactly how many of them he had left.

“Jim,” said Spock. “It won’t be long before my blood begins to burn again.”

Jim stilled, propped himself on an elbow and blinked rapidly down at Spock. His eyes had adjusted so Jim could see him a little better. But he still couldn‘t read see Spock‘s face clearly.

“What- What do you mean?” Now, Jim knew he was missing something, something very important. He demanded, “Will you tell me what the hell’s going on!”

Spock shifted so he was no longer flat on his back, but rather now was kneeling at Jim’s side.

He didn’t respond.

Jim reached out and gripped Spock’s arm. “Spock. Tell me.”

“Vulcans do not speak of it,” Spock’s voice was still calm, but Jim could feel the tension in his body, like a taut guitar string about to snap.

“You don‘t exactly have a choice,” Jim gritted through clenched teeth.

So, Spock explained it to him. Carefully, haltingly. As if each word was carving away at the core of him, exposing him and hurting him at once.

It stunned Jim to the bone.

Pon Farr. Jim had never heard of it before. He rather wished he wasn’t hearing about it now. He felt as if he’d been eviscerated, yet too stunned to feel the pain.

“So, you have to fuck or you die?” Jim rubbed at his face. “Anyone would do, huh?” He laughed harshly. Of course. Why in the hell are you surprised James Tiberius Kirk? This is Spock. The man wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole unless he didn‘t have a choice about it. You should have noticed - should have remembered that - if you hadn‘t been thinking with your dick.

His chest felt too tight. And he was very grateful that it was far too dark for Spock to see his expression. Jim didn’t think he could keep his emotions out of his face at this moment.

Spock shifted next to him. “That is not entirely accurate.”

“Oh?” asked Jim neutrally.

“In consideration of our present circumstances,” Spock said reluctantly. “Full disclosure would be the logical course of action-”

“Spit it out, Spock,” sighed Jim.

“Without initial attraction my instincts would have been to consider you a challenger rather than a potential mate, one I would have sought to fight to the death for the perceived encroachment on my territory,” said Spock.

A slow wide smile stretched across Jim’s face. “So… you‘re saying you want me.”

Jim could practically hear the glare Spock had to be sending him. But he was just too delighted.

Spock‘s voice was stiff. “This is accurate.”

“How long?” asked Jim. “How long have you wanted me?”

“It was brought to my attention 5.45 months ago,” said Spock.

“Brought to your attention?” Jim did the math. “Wait! Is that why Uhura broke up with you?”

“Yes,” said Spock flatly.

Well, damn. Jim would never ever have guessed.

“No wonder she was so pissed off,” mused Jim. And how lucky was he not to have gotten caught in the fallout?

“Jim, the plak tow, the blood fever is only just beginning,” said Spock urgently. “I will seek you to mate with you, to bond with you. You must attempt to put as much distance between us as you can before the madness is complete.”

“You are kidding me right?” asked Jim, in disbelief. “You just told me that this could kill you! I‘m not leaving you to die.”

And before Spock could say another word of protest, Jim found him in the darkness, cupping his face with his palms as he gently kissed him.

Spock shivered, a full body tremor, before slowly opening his mouth.

Jim lingered at his lips, then licked at Spock’s teeth, feeling the sharpness of his incisors, before pressing his tongue to Spock’s tongue.

It seemed to flip a switch inside of Spock, because in a disorienting quick move, he pushed Jim underneath him. Pressing his body and mouth hard to Jim’s own. Then Spock tore his mouth away, and panted, resting his forehead against Jim’s cheek.

“The bond would be a mental bond, not easily broken once consummated,” Spock’s voice was flat of all emotional tones, which Jim finally understood was a sign of his struggles to control himself. To try to give Jim the information he’d demanded without being distracted by his own body‘s mounting urges.

Jim paused. Okay, that bit of information was a little unexpected.

“You’re saying it would be like marrying you?” he asked for clarity. And then his eyes widened because he can feel Spock hardening from his words.

“The concept is similar,” breathed Spock. His hips stuttered then stilled. The tension in his frame rose higher.

Jim mouth grew dry. He licked his lips with a wet slick sound, and Spock shivered again.

“But among Vulcans it is much more intimate than a human marriage contract. It involves a more personal mental connection that continues to function even over great distances,” continued Spock, his voice finally showing signs of strain.

Jim wanted to touch Spock, but he refrained and actually took the time to think about what Spock was telling him. This was serious. Vulcan level serious. Something so important that they didn’t talk about it if they could help it.

If ever Jim had to restrain his natural inclination to leap before he looked, it had to be now, especially when it involved the life of someone else. And hell, Spock didn’t deserve to be stuck with him simply because the guy didn’t have the choice of who to fuck.

“But it can be broken, right?” Jim asked.

Spock flinched, a sharp movement that was quickly stilled, and Jim only caught because Spock was still on top of him.

“You can have a real choice of who you want to tie yourself to, later on, right?” he pressed.

“Yes,” Spock said, his voice harder. “The bond can be dissolved. There are mind healers who survived who have the necessary skills.”

“Okay,” agreed Jim with determination. “Then let‘s do this.”

Spock didn’t move. He said quietly, “Captain, if you truly do not wish to -”

Jim cut him off with a kiss, gripping Spock behind his neck and tilting his hips to grind up against Spock’s erection.

Jim wasn’t hard yet. Two orgasms so close together meant he needed a bit of time to recover. Maybe even as much as fifteen minutes… twenty minutes tops. Not that it stopped him from enjoying the weight of Spock on him, or the soft choked back moans that spilled from Spock’s mouth and onto his own lips like sweet delicate confections.

Jim pulled back from his mouth with a moist pop, suddenly hungry to get his mouth on Spock’s cock. His hands scrabbled for the fastenings of Spock’s pants, cursing as he realized that Spock had also straightened himself up at some point during their conversation. His fingers slid over the still damp semen and he was nearly tempted to stop so he could put them to his mouth.

He nudged Spock onto his back, urging his hips up so Jim could slide his pants down, past his hips, past his upper thighs, and unto his knees, locking Spock’s legs down. He held tight to Spock’s hips, not because he’d really be able to stop them from moving - Vulcan strength being what it was - but more as a reminder to Spock that he shouldn’t, that he should let Jim be the one to control this.

Jim opened his mouth, licked at the length, intrigued by the smell coming off Spock. Mellower than a human scent, but still having that familiar tang of bitterness. He lapped at the head, at the beads of pre-cum, fascinated by the sounds it wrung from Spock.

A broken sound, a desperate whimper. A low moan that culminated in a sharp shocked gasp as Jim swallowed him down.

The heavy feel of Spock, on his tongue, at the back of his throat, damn near blew Jim‘s mind. Even his spent cock in his pants twitched in interest.

Hot damn. This was better than any fantasy his very imaginative brain had been able to put together.

He drew back, letting Spock’s erection, slowly slide out of his mouth, until it was almost out, the crown resting on the center of his tongue.

Jim sucked hard.

Spock fucking screamed. Bowing, twisting, damn near writhing under Jim’s hands. It took every inch of Jim’s skill at sucking cock to keep him in his mouth.

That’s when Spock reached down, and pressed his hand to head, not reaching to hold him in place like Jim expected, but rather spreading his fingers until the tips touched familiar points on his face. And Jim knew what was going to happen.

He barely got the chance to brace himself when he was hit by what felt like a tsunami of pleasure and heat and the sensation of getting his cock sucked by a wet and hot mouth-

All that sensation… drowned him.

Driving him to scream himself, in the confines of his - no their - own mind.

Then, Jim was back in his own head, Spock’s semen still on his lips, gasping for air and feeling the unmistakable stickiness in his pants that let him know he’d gone off like a shot without a single touch.

He blinked in disbelief down at Spock as he wiped at the corners of his mouth with his tongue.

He hadn’t even been hard before Spock had pulled off that telepathic move!

I think this Pon Farr thing could actually make me orgasm to death. But wow, talk about an amazing way to go.

“I rather doubt that is a possibility no matter how long the plak tow lasts,” gasped Spock. “Dehydration would be the primary concern.”

“Dehydration? Maybe,” said Jim smiling. He licked his lips again. “But if so it will definitely be on your part.”

Jim wasn’t particularly surprised Spock had heard him thinking. His head felt still felt odd. Heavy. Like Spock was still in there even without him pressing his hand to Jim’s face.

Huh, that’s interesting.

“The sensation you are feeling is a mind link. It is a miniscule connection, a bridge - to use a human metaphor - between our thoughts,” answered Spock. “It is the primary step necessary before achieving a full bond.”

“So, it takes more than a blowjob to consummate it, then?” asked Jim. He tentatively stood and once certain his shaky legs would hold his weight, he held out his hand to Spock.

He held it in mid-air for a moment before Spock gently touched his fingers, sliding his own fingers down from tip to palm, until his hand was firmly gripping around Jim’s wrist.

“Yes. A lot more,” said Spock, and levered himself up. He didn’t let go as soon as he was standing, but rather shifted his hand so it was gently cradling Jim’s hand, his fingers brushing lightly at Jim’s fingertips.

Jim shivered. He definitely felt a mix of amusement and desire from Spock just then.

God, if Jim wasn’t certain that if he kissed him they would once again end up rutting in the dirt, he’d so do it.

“So, because I rather we don‘t die of dehydration,” Jim said, swallowing down hard. “I say we get back to camp, where there‘s water, clean clothes, sleeping bags, lube and those things that Starfleet likes to pretend is real food.”

At ‘lube‘, sharp spike of lust came from Spock, and Jim nearly wobbled at the feel of it.

“I strongly support this decision, Captain. Truly it is a rare order, as I find it be flawlessly logical,” said Spock.

Jim couldn’t help but laugh.

Spock was in the grip of some killer seven year itch, he‘d just gotten a blowjob from his captain, and Spock was still being a pointy-eared smartass.

It was times like these that Jim was convinced he loved truly and deeply the man.

Spock’s hand tightened his grip on Jim’s and for a breathless moment Jim wondered if he’d caught that.

But if he did, Spock didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he began leading them back to their campsite. Jim let him. Without his light, he would have gotten them lost. Spock at least moved with certainty. Jim wasn’t too sure if it was because Vulcans had superior night vision to humans, or that Spock simply remembered the path and knew where it twisted and turned. It could be a mix both.

He really had to take the time and pry more information on Vulcans, either out of the computer or Spock himself, Jim decided. Though, Spock would be the better source. Only generic information about them was available in the data banks, of not just the Federation, but Starfleet. And what was there was so damned sparse, that Jim had never ever read anything about Pon Farr, or plak tow, in them.

Jim was rather curious what other things had been kept away from non-Vulcan eyes and if they were nearly as crazy and sexy as Pon Farr.

And wow, he kind of was torn between hoping so and hoping this was as nuts as it got. He still wasn’t convinced either of them would survived it in the first place.

Just what Jim was getting from their mind link - the hunger and the pooling lust - was giving him the rising urge to just tackle Spock and rub himself against him until he came. It was taking all his concentration to hold himself back.

It wasn’t until Jim could see the green perimeter lights that he sped up, tugging Spock along until they were both running. Only letting go of each other once they were stumbling into the tent so they could peel off their clothes.

A race that Jim won, though only by nanoseconds.

Jim barely got the chance to reach over to flip on the small sunlamp that they’d been using as a tent light when Spock just grabbed him. Pressing his entire body fully flush against Jim, as if he intended to physically melt into him.

This time Spock was kissing him to within an inch of his life. Holding Jim’s hips in place with his hands, and just grinding against him. Holding so tight that Jim couldn’t even shift his hips back into him, to his frustration.

And the feelings he got from Spock came across the mind link even stronger than before. Anymore and Jim was sure he’d start losing the ability to think.

So, Jim jumped at the chance to use a tactical advantage while he had the chance and slid his leg between Spock’s legs, then shoved with his entire body, so that Spock tripped and they both feel back into the mess of sleeping bags they left behind when they‘d both gone off into the night.

He pulled back from the kiss and stared down at Spock.

The warm yellow light of the sunlamp showed him a Spock who was wide-eyed and flushed. The neat hair cut was so badly messed up it even had broken bits of green and brown leaf debris in it.

But the most riveting thing the light revealed was the look in Spock’s eyes, the way that his dark eyes fixated on Jim’s mouth, his eyes, flicking down to his chest, as if the sight of Jim’s naked skin was breaking something apart inside him. Wildness shone in Spock’s dark eyes.

“Spock,” whispered Jim.

And Spock surged against, catching his mouth, flipping Jim unto his back and under him. Spock’s hands slid from his hips to his thighs, spreading them apart to his hungry eyes.

Jim moaned an arched his back going crazy from the feel of those hands finally leaving trails of sensation on his skin, while the sane corner of his mind sent a stray hand scrambling for the medical kit. He thanked Bones and Starfleet medical protocol that required lubrication to be part and parcel of all emergency med-kits.

I doubt this is what Starfleet had in mind. Though, Bones probably had some clue.

“You are here. Now. With me. Cease thinking of McCoy,” snarled Spock.

And hell, even that possessive growl was so hot Jim’s cock twitched and then hardened with interest at the rumble.

“Fuck,” moaned Jim. No way was it possible he was getting hard again. Not even when he’d been fifteen had he had this sort of recovery time.

“That is the logical course of action,” said Spock. And he plucked the tube of lube from Jim’s hand, flicked it open and was spreading it on his fingers before Jim could groan at that.

Spock should give advance warning if he’s going to start joking around.

Then the feel of a hot finger at the puckered opening of his ass pretty much choked off all thoughts in Jim‘s head.

“Oh god,” Jim said. At some point his eyes had fallen closed, so he forced them open again and got caught in Spock’s eyes.

Those dark eyes were memorizing him.

With the same intensity that Spock would display on the bridge during tense moments, whether he was scanning the computer readouts in the science station or thinking of solutions to Jim’s demand for answers.

But now, it was directed solely down on him, watching Jim spread his legs wider as another finger pressed into him, making him ready.

Every pant, every moan, every flicker of his eyes. Jim knew that Spock was taking it all in, not missing anything. It was as if he was determined to carry this part of Jim within himself for the rest of his life.

And Jim could say with all honestly, that he’d never had a lover who had done that before.

“Spock,” Jim panted. “Fuck me now, or I swear you won‘t have to worry about dying from Vulcan blue balls.”

“At no point in time,” said Spock, hoarsely. “Does any part of Vulcan physiology… turn to…” Jim watched him slick his cock with the lube, his hand trembling, “…any variation of that particular color.”

Jim’s laugh shifted to a gasp, as Spock removed his fingers. He spread his legs wider, and lifted his hips up. One of Spock’s hands, slid to the small of his back and lifted him higher. Spock used his free hand to guide himself to Jim’s entrance.

The press of hot, slick and Spock made Jim gasp again.

“Fuck. Yes! Yes! Now! Do it. Do me now,” he ordered, trying to muster as much of the authority he had learned to wield as captain into his voice.

“Jim,” Spock said softly, his expression almost feral. Then he pressed into him, slowly, but so steadily that all Jim could do was clutch at the sleeping bags. He tried to brace himself with his arms to thrust back into Spock to make him go faster. But he stilled Jim with his hands at his hips again.

Damn near making Jim whine in desperation.

Bastard!

Spock only stopped moving when he was fully sheathed inside him. Stopping to pant, his warm breath cooling the sweat beading on Jim’s brow.

This time, Jim wasn’t able to stop the whimpers, though he tried to choke them back.

They were pressed so close together that Jim’s cock was caught between their bodies. The hot press of Spock’s stomach against it, combined with his inability to move, made Jim swear.

All that earned him was Spock pressing his forehead to Jim’s forehead, refusing to move.

“Jim,” he said again.

“What?” asked Jim desperately. “Whatever you need, you got it!”

“You. I need you,” answered Spock.

“You have me,” said Jim, bewildered.

“This is not accurate. You are holding yourself back from me. You must embrace me fully,” said Spock. “So, that in turn, I can embrace you.”

Jim stared at him, confused and incredulous. “You want me to try to solve Vulcan riddles… now?”

Fucking crazy, sexy Vulcan! My brain is practically melting out of my ears right now. And he wants me to think?

In revenge, Jim tightened himself around Spock, though it made his own eyes roll back at the firm feel of that hot hard length inside him.

That pressure finally broke down Spock’s self-control, shattering it completely. Turning him mindless with want. Moaning, he started thrusting into Jim, short shallow pushes, in and out.

Jim’s head dropped back, his hips twisted up, his breath hitching with each push in, and pull out.

Then Spock seemed to shift to a higher gear, lifting Jim straight up. So, instead of being on his back, he was now sitting in Spock’s lap, his legs pressed up high, his knees around Spock’s shoulder blades.

And Spock just held him there. He used his greater strength to lift Jim up, until his cock was nearly out of him, then letting gravity push him back into Jim’s body. Jim’s cock was being rubbed between their bodies, slicked by pre-come and the sweat coming off both of them. All Jim could do was hold onto his shoulders and enjoy the ride.

Between that and the emotions rolling off Spock, whatever sanity Jim had left, was gone like smoke on the wind.

All he felt was Spock’s desire, emotionally and physically.

Every thrust sent bolts of pleasure into their thin mental connection, locking them into a bio-feedback loop that ramped them up higher and higher as they added to it, so that they were driven by each other’s lust, their devotion, and need for each other.

But to Jim’s frustration, no matter how high their pleasure rose, it wasn’t enough to tip them over the edge into orgasm.

Maybe it was that he’d already come more times in the last hour than he’d had in months, but no matter how hard he strained for that final spark of pleasure, not matter how hard he thrust down into Spock’s lap, or rubbed himself against his flat stomach or devoured the smooth heat of Spock’s mouth.

It wasn’t enough. Not yet, there was something missing.

“Do that mind-meld thing again,” Jim gasped, the idea striking him suddenly.

He mentally cursed when his request made Spock stop moving while still deeply inside him. Jim groaned in frustration, dropping his head to Spock’s neck.

“You are trying to kill me,” he mumbled, moving his head, simply unable to resist pressing his mouth to such a conveniently placed pointed ear.

Spock shivered. He pulled away enough so he could stare into Jim‘s eyes. And there was such a mix of hunger and vulnerability in his eyes that Jim was thoroughly distracted from his needs.

Jim grabbed one of Spock’s hands and shifted it so that his lay against his face. Silently, Spock watched him and then adjusted the position of his fingers.

“There is more that I should have disclosed to you prior to our joining that will culminate in the bond,” said Spock.

Jim closed his eyes as he felt the presence of Spock in his head change. It no longer felt like a weight. It was difficult to describe. The closest he got, was the feeling he got when he stood back to back with Spock in a fight. The same sense of security, loyalty, trust. The same adrenaline rush and excitement of what was going to happen next.

“Yeah, okay. Tell me,” said Jim, roughly.

“Even if I had the pick of a bondmate of anyone in the entirety of the Federation, my choice would still be you, Jim,” said Spock, shifting until his mouth was barely an inch from Jim’s mouth. His eyes were coals, practically burning Jim with their gaze.

And fuck, even if Jim was inclined to think he was lying, the force of the sincerity of Spock’s emotions were battering at him like unstoppable ocean waves.

Spock meant it.

So, who was Jim to try to tell the man that they shouldn’t be together, when at the deepest core at him, he wanted Spock back just as badly?

If there was one characteristic, other than foolhardy or crazy or too-smart-for-his-own-good, that anyone would pick to describe him, Jim thought it had to be greedy. He was a greedy son of a bitch, and when his gorgeous, brilliant, and fucking sexy first officer told him he wanted him, Jim sure was hell wasn’t going to fight him on it.

So with Spock’s hand and fingers spread on his face, his mind reaching out to embrace him - offering his surprisingly vulnerable Vulcan heart on a silver platter - Jim did what any greedy man would do when faced with such unparalleled riches.

He let go of the feeling inside him that insisted love wasn’t for him and grabbed it - grabbed Spock - for all he was worth. And he didn’t really think that he’d ever be convinced to let go. They’d have to pry Spock from his cold dead fingers.

And together, locked in a mind meld that was swiftly becoming more, they whispered into each other‘s mouths, into each other‘s minds, “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.”

Then they connected so thoroughly, were smashed and blended together into a white hot surge of pleasure and completeness that finally sent them both stumbling over the edge.
*-*-*-*

The Enterprise showed on day four just as Spock had said it would.

Which was perfect timing as far as Jim was concerned, because Spock’s Pon Farr had run out and more importantly so had the lube.

Jim had told them to give him and Spock about half an hour to break down camp before they were beamed up. This gave them plenty of time to make themselves presentable and get rid of any evidence of their activities.

Normally, putting everything away into the kits and packs would have taken half the time, as the equipment was deliberately designed for easy build up and break down, but Jim and Spock were slowed down by their soreness and the fact that Jim kept stealing kisses and gropes.

This was the primary reason Jim had decided they could take care of everything alone. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to some random crewmember why their Captain and First Officer were limping and covered in hickeys. Or why said Captain was molesting the First Officer.

Jim eyed Spock, smirking as he watched him pack away the medical kit. Bones was going so glare at them once he found all the lubrication was missing. Jim rather looked forward to it.

“You know Spock. I turned out to be one hundred percent right about my assessment of our situation here,” he said smugly.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. A mix of exasperation, amusement, and fondness touched Jim through their bond.

Jim just grinned wider. “We were screwed. Thoroughly and completely screwed.”

End.