For those few moments Jim's voice shatters apart into hungry, encouraging cries. Wordless noise of desire. No one's ever known him so thoroughly as Spock does. The Vulcan knows his body even better than Jim knows himself. Drunk off his ass and somehow pulling these low, pleading cries from Jim as he fucks the man with his fingers.

Only to pull them free.

"...??? Wh--" Jim won't get time to ask. His back hits the comforter with a soft whumpf!. Spock's there grinding down against his hips. Briefly. Too briefly. Then he's moving again. Pulling Jim down the bed an inch and making him groan long and low and sweet. "Spock--"

Cut off in a choked off moan as he's teased with a slick heat against his ass. Lining up. And then easing into him. Fireworks are going off somewhere behind Jim's eyes. His hands are scrambling for purchase. His right clenches with a death grip into their sheets. The left flails out, searching for Spock's hand because that's just how they do this.

Have done this.

How it feels best because his fingers thrum with this something more than skin deep...

"Oh fuck, gh--" Trying to relax. To breathe. To hold himself goddamn still for a second before he tries to rock Spock in deeper. "Yeah, yeah fuck yes--!"