smartass_captain | The Academy AU for sensors

The night Sam Kirk walks into the Kirk family farmhouse his little brother throws a fucking beer bottle at his face. He misses. If he'd hit, the next several years might not have happened.

Jim is twenty years old and his life is a fucking mess.

He's no longer in the goddamn hospital every other month, but still in mandatory therapy until he ages out of the system on his 21st birthday. His therapist has worked with him since. Well. Since he got mandated one by the University of Iowa's children's hospital when they brought him home and nursed him back from the brink of being starved to death. Sam isn't here about Tarsus though. He's here because he heard little Jimmy just got out of a stint in county for petty theft.

Why's a guy stealing bread in this day and age? Jim doesn't give him a satisfactory answer. He can't. There isn't one. He'd been better until he'd left his personal device at home for a weekend boke trip. Without his meal schedule Jim can't function. But see, his body doesn't tell him when he's hungry anymore either, so Jim hadn't noticed until it was day three and he started hurting. All sense left him. Next thing he knows he's sitting in a jail cell being watched while he eats the food they gave him because anyone can see Jim Kirk is still too thin. Jim hates it. That look of fucking pity.

He was home and on his fourth beer of the evening when his fucking older brother strides in like he hasn't been gone for the last damn near decade of Jim's life.

"Sober up. I want you to come into town with me tomorrow and take a test." Sam had said. Jim thinks he told his brother to fuck off. He thinks he tried, but he might have stormed off so the other didn't see him break down into tears. He dodges Sam for three days before they bond over noon breakfast talking about when their mom finally found out about and ditched Frank. Sam asks where Winona sent him then, since neither of them believes for a second she stayed Earthside to raise him herself.

Jim lies.

But the lie works. And so he lets Sam drive them into town chattering the whole time about Starfleet. He wants Jim to take an aptitude test. If he passes, well. Dear ol' big brother's gonna whisk him away to San Francisco so they can enlist together. Sam got in, you see. Second attempt, so maybe Jimmy won't be going with him Right away.

"Jim." Jim corrects him. He's toying with the idea of maybe letting Sam talk him into this, but he's not forgetting the last damn near decade so easily. Not forgiving it yet, either. He tells himself he'll take the stupid test to shut his brother up. And hell, maybe he'll even beat his 'big bro' and pass on a first try. He aces it, hangover and all. Sam seems real keen on congratulating himself for giving Jim pointers the last couple days and Jim doesn't argue much.

A change of scenery seems like a decent idea.

All he wants to take fits into a single duffel bag he tosses into the back of Sam's beater of a truck and they make for San Francisco...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

From:

sensors

Spock has very little evidence of Jim's habits and mannerisms sexually as he has always ensured there was no overlap, and to say he is briefly startled by the intensity with which Jim responds to what Spock had found most practical would be correct.

That is not to say he dislikes it, however, as he briefly feels as though his mouth has gone dry from the sound of Jim moaning in his ear. Spock watches him the entire time as he undresses, gaze dark and hungry, and he's almost fully undressed by the time Jim tries to get him onto the bed and closer to him already: all he has left are his pants and underwear, and for once in his life Spock has not taken the time to fold any of it, just tossed it over the back of his desk chair.

Spock shifts close enough for Jim to get his hands on him, but he busies him instead with straddling his thighs and kissing him, harder than before, desperate and heated with a low groan against his mouth before he starts dragging his attentions lower, teeth catching briefly at his throat, his collarbone—

—his eyes flick up to look at his face, one eyebrow arched slightly, as he presses a kiss to the center of his chest in the same moment that one of his hands slides up the length of Jim's inner thigh.

From:

smartass_captain

His hands Are on Spock immediately. The nanosecond Spock is in reach Jim's hands are at the waistline of Spock's pants, unfastening the hook and eye to uncover the practical slim zipper beneath with practiced fingers. Impatience is read in every tug of Jim's fingers, in the heavy breath that shakes its way out of Jim's lungs the first Spock plants a knee on the bed. There's barely enough room for both of them on just Spock's bed.

Then Spock's bent over him, that perfect arch of a back in reach for Jim to map his hands across. The blue is nearly chased from his eyes as he presses up into that hungry kiss. Ready and willing to pull out every trick and move Jim's got if it's for Spock's pleasure.

That deep voice vibrates against Jim's chest. He's panting for air when Spock begins exploring with his mouth. Bucking his hips desperately with each sharp nip at his throat. Catching at his collar.

"Fuck oh fuck that's good, that's so damn good--" There's no filter on the words tumbling out of Jim's mouth. He can't ever remember being this keyed up in his goddamn life. And here Spock will get his first experience with intercourse where human males are concerned. Not nearly as wet as he would have expected.

And Jim, misinterpreting that curious touch, flails one hand to point to the foot of his bed.

"F..foot locker. S-should be plenty of lube in there, and a whole bunch of toys I can explain how to use later."

Edited (forgot about his gfs) Date: 2025-02-06 06:31 am (UTC)

From:

sensors

Jim's hands practically feel as though they burn his skin for the body heat difference and Spock swallows hard. He has never been this easily affected with any of his previous human partners, but perhaps it is the affection making it that much more intense.

Perhaps it is also the desperation Jim already showcases with each thing Spock does; he has also never felt this wanted before and he desperately, desperately craves more of it.

Spock has at least been somewhat sexually adventurous, though with less overall partners than Jim may have had. He is aware of the usage of and requirement for lubricant with humans for certain aspects, though Vulcans produce enough of their own, generally speaking. Spock considers mentioning so, as he is aware that the preparation for anal sex is similar both between species and sexes, but curiosity about the rest of Jim's comment wins out and he slides just far enough away to get to said foot locker and pop it open, arching an eyebrow slightly as he skates a glance over everything inside before he grabs the bottle of lubricant and returns to his own bed and Jim himself.

He sets the bottle on the bed and slides up Jim's body again to press a kiss to his mouth; as he does he shoves his pants and underwear the rest of the way down his hips and gets them off his legs, leaving them in similar states of undress.

Similar states of hardness too, though their anatomy does have certain differences, namely the fact that Spock's arousal has slipped free of its normal sheathed housing and that said sheath has leaked enough slick that not only is his cock coated, his inner thighs are dripping obscenely.

He has never been this aroused in his life, he realizes, though he does not say as much because he's too busy pinning Jim to the bed with his own body to grind their hips together, giving them both slippery friction that drags a groan from low in his chest.

From:

smartass_captain

Jim Kirk. Spread out on Spock's bed like he belongs there. Sunk into the pillow, his legs splayed to welcome Spock between them, cock stiff and eager. He makes an obscene picture laying there with that ruddy flush to his cheeks and down his neck.

"Yeah, there you go. Wanna see you--"

One thing to read up on Vulcan anatomy out of curiosity months ago. Another to see Spock hard and dripping because of him. Jim won't get the chance to smart off. All that comes out of his parted lips is a shocked moan. His back arches off the bed, eager to meet Spock's hungry roll of his hips

"Y'feel that?" Jim murmurs against his partner's lips. His hips roll up and rock against Spock's so good he has to hiss. "That's all for you. You're the most attractive fucking person I've e-ever met. Want you to rail me into the mattress, want to fuck you on every surface we have in here. In the library, on the simulated bridge--" Cut off by another moan that rips itself from his throat.

"I've wanted you so goddamn bad practically since the day we met and it only got worse when I got to know you, Spock."

From:

sensors

Now that they are urged together like this, it becomes easier to use his hands for other things but more difficult to keep his thoughts in order. As Jim arches and rocks up against him Spock meets him movement for movement, one hand splayed on the sheets as the other slides down Jim's arm, to his wrist, fingertips tracing over his knuckles.

The sound he lets out into Jim's mouth is frankly obscene and he has to take a moment to catch his breath, eyes dark from how blown his pupils are as he looks down at him, processing what Jim said to him. Then his head pops up a little bit like a meerkat or something and he says—

"—If you desire to have sexual intercourse while seated in the Captain's chair, we will be required to find the means and time to do so while we are still cadets as it is unlikely we will be able to do so once we are stationed on a ship. The suggestion of making use of the simulated bridge is prudent." He is already going through some calculations in his head, and his access to areas of the academy—the library is simple, for example.

Each word is throaty despite their matter-of-fact nature and he continues on to nod, kissing him eagerly before he speaks again. "I have never desired anyone as much as I do you, and it has been this way from the moment I realized I did so at all."

Finally, finally, he stops fondling Jim's hand to slide his between them, long fingers curling around both of their cocks at once to stroke them together. "I have dreamed of you when I took time to sleep," he adds, sounding almost thoughtful. "It does not compare to the reality."

From:

smartass_captain

That's about the Only things Spock could have said that would make Jim throw the brakes on this to catch his breath a little.

"Holy shit..." Something feverish and manic alights in his blue eyes. Jim frames Spock's cheeks in his free hand and surges up to press a kiss against his lips. "Fuck yes. We Have to find a way to make that happen now. God that would be so hot--"

His mischievous chuckles trail off into another breathy gasp. His touch drags down Spock's shoulder, his arm. Both arms, once Spock's freed his hand. Jim arches his hips. Too greedy not to try and fuck into the loose fist Spock is making around them both.

"Oh yeah--me too. I couldn't stop thinking of you even when I was...trying to..."

Everyone he'd been with this whole term had been little more than a distraction. A salve to soothe him from not having the man settled over him now. It hadn't worked. Not even a little bit.

"What's your favorite dream of m...me..?" Breathed out around a wicked grin.

From:

sensors

While Spock does not grin in return, the slight tip of his head is as good as doing so, for him, the way his mouth briefly ticks up at one corner even as they kiss.

He keeps his hand on them, periodically looking down at the sight and swallowing hard from just how evocative—he needs to focus.

"I am granted access to areas of the campus after hours as my sleep schedule is much shorter than other species and I require more productive time." A beat passes and he shifts the angle of his wrist just enough to let Jim fuck into the grasp of his hand, tipping his head down to murmur into his ear.

"There is a particular one in which we are having sexual intercourse while seated in the Captain's chair." Alright, maybe his tone is a little wry to make up for the fact that he had briefly pretended he was very much planning to do Jim a favor with the setup when he has also had it on his mind and also worded it exactly the same as he did just a moment ago. "However, I have found them all markedly enjoyable. I would find it gratifying to be able to show you them over time."

From:

smartass_captain

The words seem to catch against Jim's mouth, his jaw, his neck. They catch and stick and give them the foundations of a plan. One they're going to have to be very careful in executing lest they both end up thrown out altogether. But in the moment? That risk just makes Jim groan all the sweeter. Shudder for the voice teasing at his ear.

"You g-goddamn tease~" Jim can't manage to sound put out the way they're working each other up. "You want that just as bad, huh..." Wants to pretend they're right there on the bridge and going at each other where the whole damn fleet could see them. God it's a tantalizing thought. And the last punches Jim right in the stomach. Leaves him squirming underneath Spock. The implication that this isn't just a one-time thing. That Spock wants to have this...him. For good.

That this could work. Be real.

"Spock--"

Edited (formatting) Date: 2025-02-18 01:26 am (UTC)

From:

sensors

"Yes," Spock says, but it is unclear to which part, whether he means yes he is a goddamn tease, yes he wants that just as bad, or both. He gives them both a squeeze, groaning against Jim's throat, and catches the lobe of his ear with his teeth before continuing. "Shall I elucidate? Inform you that I desire to settle on your lap, to feel you inside me, to let you fuck me," with a slight emphasis on the fuck, purposeful and knowing, "on the bridge in the chair you belong in?"

A lot to say, perhaps, but all the same it does not seem as though he is playing it up: unbridled desire, certainly, but he means every word of it.

Jim squirming beneath him gets Spock shifting, kissing along his neck, under his ear, along his jaw, back to his mouth, granting him a kiss and then breathing out his next words against his lips.

"Jim," with a low thrum to his voice, thick and heated, "tell me what you want tonight. We will have opportunity to explore the rest on other occasions."

Because he does want to have Jim for good. For always, for real, for him.

From:

smartass_captain

It's almost too much. Knowing that Spock's been saving up fantasies as long as Jim has. Knowing that despite all of the failed attempts at connecting with someone else they've both kept coming back to each other. To hear that Spock wants more than tonight.

No one's ever wanted to Stay before.

Jim loves him. Jim's terrified. But in the moment all he knows is that he's burning up for how bad he wants this.

"I want the whole damn campus to know I'm yours after tonight." Jim groans. "Wanna have so many marks I can't take a dermagen to all of them." His hands cling tighter. Belying his nerves as well as his Want. "Fuck me stupid so I can..." Jim almost chokes on the words but manages to get out his desire, "s-so I can curl up and sleep with you after..."

Edited Date: 2025-02-18 05:22 am (UTC)

From:

sensors

Spock is not immune to fears and anxieties. He is terrified that Jim will realize that Spock is not actually worth it, that he will find Spock neither Vulcan nor Human enough, that he will again be left alone in the liminal space he occupies.

He loves Jim, though. He loves Jim in ways he has found impossible to excise and while the risk is there, Jim is worth it.

Jim is also, at current, drawing a low, wanting sound out of Spock with words alone. He cannot tell which he wants more, the physical connection of sex or the emotional connection afterward. But he is being granted both and will not waste the opportunity.

Spock nods, free hand roaming to touch Jim wherever he can reach. There is a sense of adoration he does not even try to hide; he does at length shift though, sitting up just enough to gather himself. He does not, as it happens, reach for the bottle of lube. Instead he drags his hand through his dripping slick to coat his fingers so that he can hook his arm under Jim's knee to lift his leg and guide him to the best position for Spock to start to work a finger into him: there is an air of confidence at least to the way he does it, in just how wet he made sure his hand was before even trying.

"Conveniently, I am able to provide both of those requests."

His tone has shifted, a little more rough at the edges, almost ragged with want. Another kiss to his mouth as Spock acclimates him to the sensation with the same care he would exercise had he not been reasonably certain that Jim is going to want more and potentially demand it soon enough.

His teeth catch Jim's lower lip and he gives a gentle tug—gentle at the moment, at least.

"I have dreamed of this as well," is murmured against his mouth. Jim beneath him, Jim practically begging for him. It feels heady.

From:

smartass_captain

Understandable fears for a man who could not be Vulcan Enough for the bondmate selected for him since Spock was a child. Spock has not known as Much loss as Jim Kirk has, but what he has lost speaks to his perceived worth as a person as much as it does the human sprawled beneath him in his bed. They can both face their self doubts and fears come morning. In the immediate, there is only exultation to have each other.

After months of having to watch others get attention that should have been theirs all along.

Jim's pliant beneath Spock. Eager to raise his hips, tip himself back however best suits the other. His smile curls with satisfaction.

"You're so fucking hot." Jim murmurs against Spock's lips. "I hated catching sight of you across campus with those girls. Wondering if you'd had them here, just like this..." As if Spock will feel differently to know Jim is well aware of how he needs to relax. How to rock his hips into Spock's questing touch. The tug draws another soft noise of Want out of Jim.

"Yeah...? Funny...me too."

From:

sensors

Jim Kirk is always beautiful. But it strikes differently like this when Spock can have him as he has wanted to for months now. Can drag slow, indulgent touch along the length of the leg he cradles in the crook of his elbow even as he presses another finger in along with the first, speeding up to match the addition, spreading them as he listens to Jim speaking, feels the shape of the words against his mouth.

"I did not bring any partners to our shared room," he murmurs back, "I was attempting to distract myself from thinking about my desires for you and I would have been even more unsuccessful in that had I been surrounded by reminders of you."

The room, full of Jim's things and memories of their time spent together.

"As such, you are the first person I have been physically intimate with in this bed."

Spock shifts, leaning over Jim and practically bending him in half so that he can finger him open more thoroughly, head turning so he can press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw.

"I was jealous," he admits, fingers curling experimentally on a slightly rougher thrust, "every time I saw you with anyone else. I wanted to be with you, to be who you looked at, who you wanted."

From:

smartass_captain

Jim's groan fills their dorm room. Billows up and hangs up by the ceiling. How many times has he dreampt about Spock touching him like this? Spreading him open while he talks so sweet in that deep rumble of his laced with such want? Jim's dreams couldn't compare to the real thing. Couldn't capture just how enraptured Spock's voice catches in his ears. There's an affection here he hadn't been able to account for but god does it make Everything else feel so much more.

"Y-you didn't...?" A budding whine builds in the back of Jim's throat. He twitches untouched. Shudders. "N-neither did I. Couldn't bear the thought of you finding out. Th-thinking I wanted to be with anyone that wasn't you. When it was all just..." Jim trails off as he's bent further and relaxes into it. His back curves graceful as water leaving him spread open indecently. Entirely positioned for Spock's benefit. It's not until that rougher thrust that Jim cries out louder. His leg jerks a little in the crook of Spock's arm.

An open flame of kindling to a dried out bonfire. Fuck but he needs this man.

"Spock, please--Yes--!" Panting, unable to hold still the more worked up he gets. "Fuck but when I knew you liked this too I..." Gasping roughly for a rougher thrust that leaves him crying out for more. "I almost lost my mind I wantyousobad--"

From:

sensors

"—an attempt at self-distraction," Spock finishes Jim's thought for him, because he knows. It is clear that is what it was to both of them even without the verbal confirmation.

Every single one of Jim's reactions feels a little bit like a gift, a long-delayed gratification. The sound of his voice, his cries, the way he twitches without so much as a brush of Spock's fingers, are all driving Spock to distraction.

"I was unaware," he manages at length, purposely pressing both fingers deep, then curving them pointedly as he draws them back, "that you thought I was only attracted to females. Had I the option to clarify, perhaps we would have done this sooner." There is no reprimand, just a statement. An observation punctuated by the way Spock presses a kiss to the junction of Jim's shoulder and neck, then bites down with the full intention to leave a lasting mark.

He can hear Jim's voice in every bit of his mind, filling his ears, and he takes a shuddering breath into the skin, only releasing from the bite as he shifts further, urges a kiss to his mouth too, and then manages to mumble against his mouth. "Tell me when you are ready for me," he says, not because he thinks more time is necessary but because he wants to hear the exact words fall from Jim's beautifully pleading mouth.

From:

smartass_captain

For all Jim Kirk prides himself on being the best lay anyone he's with will ever have, very few people have ever tried to be the same to him in turn. Spock's fingers are catching on him just right in a way that's knocking the breath from his lungs. His hands scrabble for purchase and what might have been an attempt at Spock's name shatters apart into a breathless swear in Andorian.

Even when it seems like Jim might be trying to find his words again, they're immediately taken away by the rough kiss and bite at his neck hard enough that he sees stars. And yet--and yet. Spock doesn't degrade him. Doesn't humiliate him. There's none of the unsavory aftertaste to these actions Jim's used to. No, Spock follows it up with a kiss that captures his lips (and whimper) into something soft. Reverent, nearly. Jim's fucked. Ruined forever.

No one's ever, ever made Him tremble before.

"Fuck yes. I am, can be--Hafta be I need you inside me yesterday Spock--" His voice is more breath than volume as they shake through Jim. He cannot offer himself up more obviously than he already is, so Jim sucks at Spock's bottom lip and bites down on it in turn in a hungry nip.

"Give it to me, please..!"

From:

sensors

"I am unable to provide sexual intercourse yesterday." A beat passes and he adds, roughly, "I am aware that is a colloquialism."

And then, for a moment, Spock does not speak. It remains clear he keeps focused, pays attention, that he hears what Jim has to say: he nods jerkily on a groan drawn out by the bite to his lip, kissing him hungrily another moment as he shifts them both, as he rests back slightly on his knees and drags jim closer against him, one leg still over his arm and the other able to stretch out past Spock's body.

There is a brief span of seconds where Spock just looks down at him, something indescribable in his eyes despite how fully blown his pupils are: he is, in fact, exhibiting The Gaze in real time, distracted and flustered by how much he loves Jim Kirk.

Jim is still babbling the entire while though, and Spock manages to shake himself out of it with another nod, taking a ragged breath before carefully positioning himself, keeping them both steady, and carefully rocking his hips forward—slow, but not agonizingly so because he is struggling to keep hold of the thin thread of self-control he has remaining.

From:

smartass_captain

Jim jerks his chin down, head up. Listen he loves Spock's jokes and dry sense of humor, he does. But right this second he wants....Jim wants...

Oh holy fuck.

The man just drug him down an inch or so on the bed like he weighed nothing and now is just looking at Jim like he's the reason the sun comes up in the morning. Jim can't breathe. He can't look away. The leg in the crook of Spock's arm starts trembling again. For just a split second Jim feels heat prick at the corners of his eyes. His voice stutters.

Hitches. Jim's back arches up off the bed as far as he can move when Spock finally moves to seal the deal. He tips his chin back. "That's it--!" His eyes are thrown wide, his voice finally found again. He breathes out a couple shaky chuckles, exultant to finally be here. To get this.

"Oh holy shit. Holy shit Spock--" Jim's hands once more seek any point they can reach. He's dragging his heated touch all over the Vulcan's body. Trying to pull him closer.

From:

sensors

The moment is perfect. Or, well, Jim is perfect, and Spock is being allowed to bask in that, to watch Jim's reactions, to blink both sets of eyelids in order to make sure his vision stays completely clear while he commits the sight of Jim beneath him, arching toward him, dragging him closer, and what could Spock possibly do but relent?

He lets himself drop forward, landing on his forearm to keep from crushing Jim with his weight, and puts himself well within reach as he keeps on with his slow movement, pausing briefly once he bottoms out, giving them both a moment to relax and keep going without cracking immediately—Spock in particular needs to breathe a moment, even himself out, the tight heat of Jim around him overwhelming to say the least.

He murmurs soothingly by Jim's ear, though he does not attempt to shush him. The volume is not an issue, but Spock cannot help but allow himself the affections he has been holding in all this time, has been clawing across shattered glass to keep in his mouth, in his throat, in his chest.

He will do so until Jim no longer exudes such surprise that someone could feel such a way for him. He mouths kisses along the line of Jim's jaw, voice low and throaty. There comes a point where he cannot help but murmur in Golic instinctively, and it is around that point where he gives up on taking a second to breathe and draws his hips back slowly only to snap them forward again so hard that Jim's back slides across the bed slightly, a little closer to the edge of the pillow. His voice chokes mid-word, overwhelmed, and he switches to supporting himself on one hand while the other cradles Jim's jaw so he can keep watching his face as he continues, pace not quite punishing but still hard and fast, a culmination of both eagerness and desiring to, illogically, 'make up for lost time.'

From:

smartass_captain

It's so much it's so damn much but Jim revels in it. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces himself to take as deep a breath he feels like he can folded damn near in half like this. Little by little he manages to relax. With Spock taking a moment Jim's got all the time He needs to adjust to the two of them connected like this.

In fact, the sex isn't what makes Jim pause hardly at all. It's the feather soft murmurs breathed into his ear. Calming, not patronizing. Earnest, not mocking. How Spock adjusts everything just to put more of himself in Jim's fevered reach. The soft kisses trailed along the line of his jaw. All of that has Jim choking up a little, that heat back at the corners of his eyes. He's terrified he's about to start crying when Spock suddenly decides he's done holding on.

"Fucking hell--!" Jim's got one leg trapped in Spock's embrace, the other half off the bed. He has nothing to brace himself with as the snap of Spock's hips sends Jim sliding up the bedding swiftly enough to make the fabric whine high pitched and swift. Leaves his back warm and red from the friction. And even like This. Spock's hand cups his jaw. Lovingly.

Love. Spock loves--

"Oh hell, oh fuck--!!" Jim's voice carries to the walls. Heard still even over the slap of skin on skin. The creak of the bed. One of Jim's hands anchors itself on the sheets to keep himself from sliding further. The other grips tight to Spock's forearm.

For Jim, the rest of the world may not exist. But to their neighbors they are unbelievably loud. Loud enough that when a certain Samuel Kirk comes down to demand an apology from the two of them, he's startled into stopping well before he can bang on the door and ruin this moment.

He hisses a few choice swears in whispered vitriol. Jim's got no idea, of course. His entire world is Spock leaning over him with that soft look on his face. On the rock of their hips together, the twisting coil of warmth in Jim's guts that he lives for.

"God, fuck! Yes~!"

From:

sensors

The way Spock watches him is hungry, devouring, but at the same time adoring. there remains almost none of his irises left visible for how wide his pupils have blown out.

Every part of him aches with want, feels like there is only heat residing in him, hotter than he has ever felt; he moans Jim's name into his ear as he fucks him, as he draws his thumb slowly along Jim's jaw, his cheek, repetitive and soothing.

"Follow my breathing," he murmurs, and while his own respiration is not perfectly even, at points a little ragged, Jim needs something to focus on because if he is this wild already, when things are about to get worse (better), he might shake apart entirely in Spock's arms.

He starts to lean back just enough to shift their positions, but the thing is. The thing is, Vulcans have impeccable hearing, extremely keen. So while Jim does not notice his brother in the hall cursing his impotent rage, Spock does. Spock does and he shifts all at once, head not turning but gaze flicking toward the door as he rocks back onto his knees, the hand that had been supporting himself slipping to rest at the small of Jim's back to drag him into Spock's lap properly so he can snap his hips up into him instead, giving Spock more leverage, altering the angle of his thrusts just enough to glide along his prostate every movement—

"—I want to hear you say my name." The words scrape out of his throat and over his tongue, rough and desperate, and that much is not at all for the spite he has toward Samuel Kirk. That is purely for himself.

Not I would like, not would you please, but I want.

From:

smartass_captain

"U-uh?" Breathing. Jim manages to nod, though it's little more than a jerk of his chin. Spock's eyes are blown wide and Jim's are no better. The blue nearly chased from them entirely. Jim swallows and nods again. He tries to breathe deeper instead of the rabbit-quick damn near hyperventilating he'd been doing. It's grounding even if only a little.

Jim adjusts when Spock moves. He pulls back and slides a hand to the small of Jim's back--Jim arches it to better let him find him wherever he wants to touch. He's getting a workout like this but it's so fucking good. He even manages to shake out a breathless little chuckle and a cheeky quirk of a smile before Spock absolutely ruins him.

It shifts to a low noise of surprise to be pulled down the bed again only for Spock to punch a sharper moan out of Jim's mouth even he wasn't ready for. As every thrust jolts down his spine sharper than electricity. Intense pleasure, heat, and that fucking voice at the same time, still managing to be heard over Jim's cries. Jim's not sure how he doesn't white-out on the spot.

It still takes him a couple of gulped-down breaths to manage anything coherent. The first two times all he manages is to half sob, half moan in the space between them. His voice is breaking when he finally shudders out--

"D-don't stop--! Spock p-please--!"

From:

sensors

In the hall, Samuel Kirk swears again and storms off, but Spock simply notes it and sets it aside to be smug about later. For now, he is too enraptured with Jim. Jim, the only important thing in the galaxy at the moment, Jim, who fits in his lap perfectly and begs for more like he would die without it.

Spock does not, in fact, stop. He does moan, burying it in the crook of Jim's neck and cutting it off with another catch of teeth just behind his ear. He does relent on their positioning though, if only because he wants to be able to go harder, faster, with the use of his hands.

But perhaps he is a little over-zealous: there comes a point where, as Jim's back once again slides along the mattress from the force of their movement, his head gets dangerously close to slamming into the headboard at speed.

It does not end up doing so, however. Instead, Spock darts a hand forward and puts it directly in the way so that Jim's head bumps up against his palm instead. Then he presses kisses all along Jim's neck and throat, murmuring a quiet but earnest apology for the fact that his recklessness could have caused potential real harm depending on just how hard his head would have been hit. He strokes his thumb across Jim's hairline, over his temple with a flashfire bit of affection, and slips his other hand between them to curl fingers around the base of Jim's cock.

From:

smartass_captain

For as much as Jim lives for driving his partners into incoherency, he's really not used to being on the other side of it. It's rather safe to say that despite Jim's request no one has ever in fact actually fucked this boy stupid before. Jim's arms wrap around Spock's neck when he leans in close enough. His nails dig into Spock's back a little for the bite.

Spock gets treated to his name gasped out again for it, whined out when he pulls away to reposition once more, and then Jim has no space for words. He's too busy holding on. Until Spock overdoes it and Jim's grip on the sheet slips. He slides up the bed with another whine of the fabric against his reddened skin. Jim grunts a startled little noise to suddenly have Spock over him, his head hitting the man's hand.

It's the closest thing to a pause they get as Spock slows long enough to apologize while he nuzzles close. This far gone Jim doesn't even realize his eyes are wet with emotion. He's mushing his cheek into Spock's hand. Gasping for enough air to catch his breath. Confused, honestly, why he's being apologized to in the moment.

"S'good. Spock it's so good, you're good~" Jim murmurs in between breaths. If Spock is going to lean over then Jim is going to cling to him. Maybe that's even for the best. He won't slide far if he's latched on to Spock. But his legs jolt and tremble when slightly cooler fingers wrap around his weeping cock. All Jim can manage by now is a startled choking noise that grows in pitch. Jim's grip tightens as if he has to hold on for dear life. It does mean he's clenching down a little on Spock too but at an urging he will find himself enough to relax again. Just for a little longer...

From:

sensors

Fortunately for Jim, Spock never does anything by halves. There is no point in doing something if he is not good at it, after all, and he is takes cues from Jim (what action causes what sound or movement or reflexive dig of his nails) for ways in which to adjust.

Simple to ascertain, simple to enact, simple to systematically move from point A to B to C to take Jim apart with laser precision. The sound of his name on Jim's lips stokes his desire even higher: everything is so slick, he can feel characteristic tightness coiling at the base of his abdomen, Jim is overwhelmed, whining, tightening around him—

—Not yet. Jim requested that Spock, quote, 'fuck him stupid,' and while Spock has to intuit the actual definition of the colloquialism he believes he understands the assignment, as it were, and as such he has not completed his extremely pleasurable task. Jim is also exhibiting signs of a measure of emotional... Something, Spock is not sure, as Jim is clearly indicating he is not in distress.

All the same, he knows how to make sure that when Jim does finish, he gets what he desperately desires.

Spock stops moving.

He does not move away, does not give Jim even the slightest chance to think he is leaving: in fact, though his hips still with great effort and self-control, he leans closer, brushing his thumb over Jim's cheek where it rests and nudging their foreheads together, attempting to catch his breath, to bring himself back down so that he can finish this how Jim deserves.

"Follow my breathing," he repeats softly, dragging his own respiration to something slower and even for Jim's sake. His other hand lets go only to slowly (albeit damply) stroke fingers over Jim's stomach. He watches his expression hawk-like, making sure he is not pushing too far and is not doing anything Jim does not want.

It will be better, more heated, and more pleasurable for Jim should he take a moment to relax so that he has to build back up again, but it relies on Jim being able to handle it. If Spock must start again right away, he will do so and easily.