Archive of Our Own

Fan Fic: "I'll Meet You There" (Star Trek:Reboot, K/S, NC-17)

Title: I'll Meet You There
Author: Noxie (noxie)
Fandom: Star Trek: Reboot
Rating: NC-17 for adult content and harsh language
Keywords: Kirk/Spock, first time
Word Count: ~6,000
Summary: Sequel to "This Cunning Plan", wherein seducing Spock did not quite go as planned. Now poor Jim is trying to convince himself he's not in love.
Author's Note: A huge thank you to the lovely angelchildr and dragontatt for beta'ing! *squishes*
Disclaimer: The characters used herein aren't mine. This is non-profit fan fiction. No copyright infringement intended.

It's quiet. Quiet in a way that doesn't feel right. Jim stirs in bed and opens his eyes to the complete darkness of his quarters. It's one thing he doesn't like about being in space. You can never tell what time it is when you wake up. There's no golden morning light spilling onto your bedroom floor through the open window, no curtains blowing in a gentle breeze. There's only darkness and the powerful, barely audible humming of the ship's engine. He's come a long way from his life in Iowa, that's for sure.

"Computer - light, morning setting."

It's still too bright, too sudden, and he winces as he sits up, blinking the daze of sleep away. His gaze drops to the floor and finds his clothes, scattered… and the memory of last night hits him vividly. Immediately he's wide awake. A flashback of feverish ecstasy, skin on skin, hot lips on his… and he's got goosebumps all over.

"Spock?" He's already half-reaching out – to find the space in bed beside him cold and unoccupied. There's an immediate sinking feeling that deepens as he looks around in confusion. Spock is gone.
Why is Spock gone? How can he not still be here after what happened last night? Okay, that sounded pathetic even in his own head. But the fact remains that the room feels empty to a degree that borders on lonely.
He scratches his head. What's the matter with him? He should be glad, right? Jim Kirk doesn't do morning-afters. So why does this feel like a slap in the face? He stares at the floor again, puzzled. Because last night was… he takes a deep breath as the images come. Last night was fulfilment. So intense, so intimate. And still not nearly enough. The craving flares up again, hot and powerful, making his skin crawl.

* * *

Eight hours earlier.

He takes Spock's cock into his mouth, and the Vulcan lets out a gasp that Jim hopes to remember, always. He grins, and Spock gives him a look that is nothing short of an order to stop messing around right this second. A soft chuckle escapes Jim's lips, because this is too good.

"I thought you'd be more patient", he teases Spock, brushing against the tip of his cock with his lips as he speaks.

"Given the circumstances, it seemed appropriate to provide encouragement."

He grins cheekily. "For once, we agree on something."

"Then I suggest you…" - there's an inhale when Jim takes him back into his mouth – "…continue." The last word comes out rather husky, and the notion that he can make Spock sound like this sends everything inside of Jim aflutter.

Something about the alien taste of his skin is making him feverishly horny. It's just not fair. He's desperately willing his own erection to last through this for god's sake, because he's got work to do here. And he'd rather die before enduring the embarrassment of coming prematurely again.
Jim starts to move, slowly, carefully. Because who knows what Vulcans like in bed? It's not like there's anything in the database – and he's double-checked before he even decided to go through with this. Spock, though… God, Spock. He's not actually moaning, but he makes those little sounds, something between an inhale and a sigh, and it's killing Jim. He starts to move faster, and Spock definitely responds to that. The Vulcan's warm fingers claw tighter into his hair, and he's curving towards him ever so slightly. Spock's silent struggle to maintain control completely gets to Jim. It's just too sexy, and just so Spock. His heart is beating like crazy, and this is no longer about his ego needing to prove that he, too, can make the other come. He wants to break through Spock's defences. He needs him to feel this. And he knows the touch telepath can read his mind as his mouth moves around the delicate skin of his cock.

Jim is sweating after a few minutes, because this is taking far longer than expected. He's getting a little nervous, and quickens his pace further. It can't have anything to do with his technique, right? Okay, so he's more often on the receiving end of a blow-job than not, but he's never had any complaints. And Spock is very obviously enjoying this. Apparently Vulcans just really aren't as excitable as humans.
Nevertheless he is truly relieved (and also quite pleased with himself) when Spock's breathing finally accelerates. Oh thank God. Jim's own cock is throbbing painfully as he glances up at the Vulcan – and lets his gaze linger, because the sight makes his heart skip a beat. Glorious. Spock's got his eyes closed, the dark lashes fluttering delicately, his face covered in a greenish blush. Full lips parted, mouthing what appear to be chopped Vulcan words helping him maintain some form of control even now. But then his body arches up, and his hand drops from Jim's head for what Jim realizes is fear of hurting him. Spock's fingers claw into the sheets instead, tearing them like paper as he climaxes. Dear mother of Jesus. Jim's cock is positively burning for release but he's too transfixed by the sight of the Vulcan orgasm in all its glory. He's never seen anything this fucking hot. It seems to last at least twice as long as the human equivalent, and he can tell that it would be pretty fucking violent if Spock didn't do whatever he's doing to stay focused. Good Lord, Jim realizes, he's holding back his cum. He can actually feel something at the tip of Spock's alien cock closing in his mouth. Jim is inches from exploding now, moaning against Spock's erection. He isn't sure if this is what causes it, but Spock twitches, his body arching up, hips buckling, every muscle tightening, his climax finally ending in a low, animalistic growl.
And Jim lets go. He comes all over the other's stomach, intensely, uncontrollably, breathing out Spock's name like it's something holy.

They lie completely still for a long, luxurious moment afterwards. The thought crosses Jim's mind, fleetingly, amusedly, that he's definitely earned himself a T-Shirt saying 'I made Spock growl' - only then he looks up to find Spock loose and relaxed, completely relaxed, and the thought is lost in amazement. It's enough to wipe away his small worry that without having actually come, Spock might not be satisfied. Oh that is one satisfied Vulcan alright. Jim may not understand how it's possible, but it doesn't matter. Maybe holding back the cum is a Vulcan kink? But it being another rigorous form of self-discipline seems more likely. If that's the way they like to do it, it's fine by him.
Unexpectedly, a small, easy smile flashes across Spock's lips, and Jim's heart skips a fucking beat. The dark eyes are warm and alive when he opens them and looks at him. Beautiful. Radiant. The words are loud in Jim's head, and he's got a strange lump in his throat all of a sudden. He moves up to kiss Spock, whose fiery tongue gently welcomes his, sending little shivers down his spine. Jim takes his hand and "kisses" it with his fingers. The other inhales audibly at the sensation, and it makes Jim feel funny inside. But he's spent, and there's a strange feeling of wholeness, and his body feels so very heavy on top of Spock, but Spock doesn’t complain. He lightly runs his fingertips along Jim's spine, and whispers a Vulcan word into his hair that makes Jim smile. He doesn't speak Vulcan, but somehow he understands.

* * *

Eight hours and thirty-two minutes later.

Jim pulls his shirt straight twice in the turbo lift while trying to get into Captain Mode. He likes being in charge. He's pretty good at it. And he's done some considerable growing up since he got his command – or so Bones admitted through gritted teeth after too much whiskey late one night. It's hard to look in charge today though. He knows that Spock is already on the bridge. It's like a strange pull luring him towards it. He can't wait to see him. It's crazy. What happened between them last night was just sex, nothing more. It may have felt like more for a moment or two, but from an objective point of view it clearly wasn't. And Spock is all about objectivity. Luckily. There's no languishing "Oh Jim, when will I see you again?" with him. It's refreshing. It's also pretty unnerving. Because now he has no idea where they stand. Spock's sneaking out some time during the night might be a clue. But was this a one time thing? Does it have to be?
Jim takes a deep, calming breath, but his stomach is still all aflutter. Technically, he knows that there's no need to worry about how he'll be received on the bridge. Spock will be entirely professional and Vulcan about it. There's no way in hell anyone will be able to tell that their captain and first officer spent last night fucking each other with hands and mouths. He isn't even sure what he's so nervous about. But his hands are sweaty all the same.

The turbo lift softly comes to a halt and the doors slide open, revealing bright lights and familiar computer noises. Jim lets his gaze wander over his senior officers for a moment. It makes him feel proud just to look at his crew, knowing it to be the finest of the fleet. They each acknowledge his presence, his authority, and he's feeling a little taller already. Until his eyes come to rest on Spock who dutifully fills the captain's chair in his absence. The Vulcan rises to his feet, and suddenly Jim's heartbeat seems unbearably loud. His mouth goes all dry.
Spock steps aside and gives him a courteous little nod. The exact same nod he's given him for the past five months. Jim's stomach tightens with a strange yearning when their eyes meet, and he feels like a needy child begging for attention. But he returns the nod with a confident air, and walks over to his chair without looking – staring - at Spock again. A feeling of relief washes over him when he's seated, and his first officer returns to his station. So far, so good.
Only now he gets this strange urge to open the intercom for a public address. To announce that Jim Kirk cannot be held responsible for his actions today - on account of apparently being a little high on Spock. He stares at the innocent little button on the control panel on his armrest that would give him the power to do so, and manages to pull himself away with a mildly terrified frown. He clears his throat and decidedly looks the other way when he addresses his first officer.

"Mr. Spock, status report."

"On course, Captain. Estimated arrival time at rendezvous point: four solar days, thirty-seven minutes."

"Sensors picking up anything unusual in this sector?"

"All within normal parameters."

"Really?" There was no need to sound that disappointed, but he could use some distraction right now. Maybe kicking some bizarre alien intruder's ass would help him clear his mind. Just where are those hostile superior beings, shape-shifters, and their annoying like when you need them?

"I have been monitoring the readings closely. But if you wish me to double-check all collected data…"

"No, it's fine. Carry on as you were."

"Aye, Captain."

No change in the way Spock talks to him. No subtext to his even voice. It's what he expected, and still, he's feeling somewhat… disappointed. That makes no sense. He crosses his legs and stares at space flying by on the view screen. This is going to be one agonizingly slow shift. He's always found the blurred lines of warp speed strangely soothing, and his mind begins to wander. There was such closeness between Spock and him last night, he never expected that. And it feels so wrong that there isn't now. Images are resurfacing, almost overwhelmingly powerful. A soft, slow kiss, Spock's hand travelling down his side, wrapping around his cock…

He all but jumps when he senses the Vulcan approaching his chair, even before he enters his line of sight. Suddenly it's hard not to forget to breathe.

"Captain, I believe there is something of importance we need to discuss."

Jim gapes at him, mortified. "What? Now? Here?"

Shit, Chekov and Sulu are exchanging a curious glance. Spock raises his eyebrow, and places his hands behind his back. "I see no reason why not. But if you wish to discuss recalibrating the long-range sensors in private, I shall be happy to oblige."

"Oh." Okay, awkward. Suddenly the bridge seems strangely quiet, and he's painfully aware of everyone listening. He manages a dismissive little wave of his hand. "No. It's fine, Commander. Go ahead."

Spock breaks into a long-winded explanation of how sensor efficiency could be enhanced by the staggering number of 0.87 percent, which is surely fascinating to anyone but Jim. He does his best to maintain a professionally interested expression. In reality, he only hears that soft timbre, and exciting shivers are running down his spine.

Spock ends his little speech and looks at him expectantly. Jim realizes that he's probably waiting for an answer, and sits up straight in his chair.

"Sure. Sounds good. Do it."

Spock tilts his head to the side slightly, looking at him in a way that clearly states: You have not heard a word of what I just said, have you?

Jim is all innocence, and Spock reacts by looking straight ahead. "Acknowledged. It will take some time to implement, but I shall do my best to complete the task as soon as possible."

Jim smiles. "Of course you will, Mr. Spock." That came out sounding rather fond. Crap. Spock is giving him a strange look, and so he adds, much cooler: "Anything else?"

Spock's eyes lock with his briefly, the dark orbs giving away nothing of his thoughts. "No, sir. That is all."

* * *

The hours end up flying by as fast as usual. There's always something for him to do when he's on the bridge. Never a moment of peace. But Jim can feel a ball of excitement forming in his stomach when alpha shift draws to an end. A ship's captain is always on duty as they say, a notion he agrees with, but this is when Spock's shift officially ends. While the Vulcan usually stays on far longer, burying himself in his work, there's nothing to stop Jim from dragging him away now if he wants to. And hell, does he want to.
To his surprise Spock breaks his habit and heads straight for the turbo-lift the second beta shift arrives. Jim gets up to follow, but Uhura chooses this exact moment to remind him of his pending reply to a query from Ambassador Holden. He looks after Spock longingly, but the lift doors are already closing, and he's gone. Jim turns back to Uhura, and his reply ends up rather short, even by his usual standards.

She frowns a little. "Are you sure you don't want to add anything else, Captain?"

"Like what?" he snaps.

"Like our ETA at Rigel IV the Ambassador requested?" she proposes helpfully.

He forgot, but she doesn't need to know that. "Lieutenant, I have faith in your capability of adding it yourself."

"Aye, Captain."

He can feel her watching him with a strange look as he turns, and makes sure not to seem like he's gonna lose it if he can't kiss Spock within the next five minutes. He saunters to the turbo lift slowly, and only exhales when he's on the way to his first officer's quarters.

Spock is not there.

* * *

Spock is not there the day after that either. Or the day after that day. As soon as the Vulcan's shift is over, he seems to mysteriously disappear. Apparently no-one ever sees him anywhere off-duty, and this is getting ridiculous. Jim can't very well use the ship's computer to locate him on his free time, can he? It's not an emergency. Not by common definition anyway - unless his personal level of frustration reaching a critical point counts.
What the hell is up with his first officer? This is something he does, not Spock. Spock doesn't go into hiding to get a message across. Unless his message is that he doesn't want to see Jim. But even then, the Spock he knows would simply say that to his face without flinching.

Jim stares into his empty coffee mug, sitting alone at the back of mess hall. He's beyond tired. He's spent most of the last two nights tossing and turning, tormented by nagging thoughts and inexplicable worries he has no time for during the day. It's showing. He had to fend off Bones and his medical tricorder earlier, but managed to convince him that it's just a headache. For now. But there's no denying it to himself anymore: he's pure misery. He misses Spock like crazy. They see each other on the bridge every day, but it's not enough, not nearly enough. Every fibre of his body is dying to be alone with him again, to talk, to touch, to have more of that completely addictive sex. Mostly just to be with him, though. To feel again like he did when Spock let him rest on his chest that night. It never felt like this with anybody. It never felt like home.
He never realized how much the rare time they spend together when off-duty meant to him. What if he screwed this up for real? What if Spock and he can't even be something like friends now? He's fairly sure that's what they were before they had sex. You never really know with Spock. All that hard-earned respect seems jeopardized and maybe lost already. He's not even sure why that hurts, but it does. He can live with this having been a one time thing, if that's what Spock wants. It won't be easy, but he'll manage. Just as long as they get to spend time together again. Why did he even have to go and seduce Spock? Was it really virtually impossible to control that yearning, that wild craving to touch him, feel him, to be with him? Why couldn't he, for once, think before he acted? He's ruined everything. And now he's such a mess, it's not even funny.

Someone stops at his lonely table, and he looks up to find Uhura standing there. Her tray in hand, she frowns a little. "Captain, are you alright?"

He manages a smile that he hopes is convincing. "Yeah, sure."

Apparently not, though, because her frown deepens. It makes her look concerned, and that surprises him. After all, she's been trying to make him believe she couldn't care less whether he lived or died since before the Academy. "With all due respect, sir, you don't look like you are."

That's a nice way of saying that he looks like shit. He gives her a tired grin. "It's nothing, Lieutenant, really."

There's an uncomfortable silence he really doesn't need right now, but she seems to come to a decision and slides onto the chair next to him. He suddenly wonders how close Spock and Uhura still are. He never really thought about why they broke up, he only inwardly celebrated how that suited his own plans. He suddenly feels bad about it. He knows what it's like to be without Spock now.

"Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

He rubs his tired eyes and shrugs. "Sure, why not."

She looks at him in a way that could either mean she thinks he's a total bimbo, or a lost cause in desperate need of help. It's really hard to tell, until he looks into her eyes and finds unexpected sympathy in them. These are shocking developments.

She leans forward in almost conspiratorial manner. "You do realize that if there were someone you wished to see, you could simply order them to come to you?"

He stares at her. Fuck, is she actually implying...? "Has... someone been talking to you about me?" he asks cautiously.

"He hasn't." She shrugs, ending all speculation if they're talking about the same person. "He hasn't even mentioned you in days. That's how I know."

He drops all pretence, because frankly, he's too tired to play games anymore. And he might just be a little desperate, too. "Where is he, Uhura?"

There's an almost friendly smile on her lips. She tilts her head to the side, and her hair falls over her shoulder, adding some softness to her neutral expression. "Where shall I say you ordered him to come to?"

* * *

He's got it all planned out, a whole speech about Spock acting irresponsibly, childishly, and even illogically. Jim is restlessly pacing his quarters, and there are walls everywhere. Not enough room, not enough air. Why is this taking so long? By now he's truly annoyed, angry with Spock even, and he fully intends to let him know.

At least until the door slides open to reveal the Vulcan's slender form. "You wished to see me, Captain?"

Damnit, his heart skips a beat at the mere sight of him, and for a moment his mind goes completely blank, leaving only emotion. But he quickly recollects himself, drawing in a determined breath. He opens his mouth to speak, to finally give Spock a piece of his mind. What comes out in the end is something not sounding like him at all, but small and lonely.

"You've been avoiding me."

Spock steps into the room, his presence washing over Jim, both calming and exciting, bringing him back to life. And there's that damn yearning again. That yearning he can never seem to escape.

"Hardly. I believe we were both present at all times during alpha shift."

Jim rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and then you took off and you were nowhere to be found. Again. Just like yesterday and the day before. That counts as avoiding."

Spock gives him the eyebrow, but he doesn't reply. Denying it further would require lying to his captain's face, and they both know it.

Jim is losing his patience. He takes a step closer, staring into the other's dark eyes. "Come on, Spock, spill it! I know you think what we did was a mistake."

Spock looks at him directly for the first time since he walked in, and his voice seems softer than before. "I do not, in fact."

Puzzled, Jim stares at him, not knowing what to say.

Spock continues calmly: "It appears to have had no negative effect on our ability to work together."

"Huh. So what the hell is this hide-and-seek about then?"

The Vulcan stiffly looks at the wall behind him. "I was not hiding from you, Jim. I was merely giving you… 'some space'."

He blinks slowly, completely dumbfounded. Did he hear that right? "Some… what?"

"Based on your usual modus operandus after having had sexual intercourse, it seemed to be the desired response."

Jim's eyes widen with disbelief. "My usual…? How do you even know I have a 'modus operandus'?"

Spock looks uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable than he normally does. "It appears to be common knowledge among the female personnel. I could not help but overhear on more than one occasion."

Jim just gapes as the penny drops. That's what Spock's been doing? Being all reasonable and attentive, and assuming staying out of his way was exactly what he wanted him to do? He has no words for how this is making him feel. There's endless relief, and warmth like Sunday morning is spreading out inside of him. All he wants to do is tell Spock what an idiot he is. And then kiss him a thousand times. He laughs out loud.

"So you've been avoiding me because you thought it's what I wanted you to do?"

"Precisely."

"But I didn't want you to."

Spock sharply turns his head to look at Jim. "You did not?"

"No! Of course not!"

"I do not understand. This is rather illogical."

Jim shakes his head, laughing softly. He steps closer to Spock and puts his hands on his shoulders. "Spock, listen. This… You and me… it's different."

The Vulcan is looking at him intently, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Define 'different'."

"Come on. You know exactly what I mean."

"I assure you, that is not the…"

"Bullshit. You touched me. You read me." He raises his hand, offering his palm. "But if it helps, go ahead, read me again now."

Spock hesitates, but then he presses his palm against Jim's. He closes his eyes to concentrate. To reach out. To listen. Jim swallows, and his heart is beating madly, just watching, just looking at Spock. Taking in the handsome features of his face, his poise, all that quiet intensity. And it's there. Everything he feels for this man, so much, so deeply, so desperately, it's right there, and he can almost sense his emotions moving into Spock in all their insecure, terrified, needy glory. It's only then that he understands his own feelings.

Spock blinks repeatedly, and for the split of a second, he seems overwhelmed. He breaks contact, and looks away.
"Jim", he says at last, and it sounds confused and a little husky. "I do not know if I am able to provide what you desire of me."
But his shy eyes that can't seem to look at Jim say otherwise. He notices that Spock is holding his breath. It's suddenly easy to decipher what all of this means. There's clearly another reason why Spock has been avoiding him. The realization fills him with amazement. He's scared, isn't he? Scared of feeling something for Jim?

Oh boy. He's feeling a little weak in the knees, but he manages a reassuring smile. "Ditto, Spock. Don't look to me for guidance here."

The other glances at him briefly. "Guidance? I should say the answer is obvious. As our duty lies with this ship and must always be our first concern, it is inadvisable to continue on this path."

"Your concerns have been duly noted."

At last, Spock meets his eyes. There's a trace of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "And will be ignored, I presume?"

Jim laughs and looks at him fondly. "You betcha."

He can't bear this anymore, and so he simply grabs him and kisses him, deeply, longingly. Spock lets it happen, places his hands on Jim's hips and returns the kiss after a moment's hesitation. Soft, gentle lips on his, and he's got goosebumps, goosebumps all over, shivers running up and down his spine. For the first time in days, he's feeling like himself again. This is so much deeper than anything he's ever felt before. Thoughts are spinning in his head, and a little voice seems to whisper: This is everything you've never dreamed of and more, and you're loving it, Jim Kirk, admit it. He grins into the kiss, suddenly exquisitely, thoroughly happy. And maybe a little scared too, just a tiny bit, because he has no idea where this is going to take them. He only knows there's no turning back, and realizing this feels fucking good. Because Spock's lips are hot on his, and his tongue is magic, and Jim's body reacts to him like it's got a mind of its own.

"Already?" Spock mutters in mild surprise, feeling Jim's cock hardening as Jim presses up against him.

"I told you", he grins and determinedly steers Spock towards the bed. "It's all your fault."

* * *

There's no foreplay this time, there's tugging, pulling each other's clothes off, and they end up on Jim's bunk in a tangled mess. He feels like in a fever, like this is too good to be true. But it's mind-blowingly real. Spock's taste is on his lips, his hands hot on his skin, the Vulcan seeming to burning up with desire on the inside, barely hidden underneath his calm facade. Jim's on top, but he realizes this isn't what he really wants right now, and so he rolls them over. He moans at the sensation of Spock's weight pressing down on him.

"Fuck, Spock", he pants, "Inside me. Now."

The other breathes the words against his skin, "To penetrate a human would be ill-advised."

It feels like a full-stop during warp speed, and Jim pulls back a little to stare at him. "What?"

"Having witnessed the Vulcan orgasm, you must realise the dangers of sexual intercourse between our species'."

"If you're referring to shredding my sheets, I don't care!"

"I would do more than that if I were unable to maintain control."

"You think I'd make you lose control?" Jim grins, liking the thought far too much.

"It is not entirely unlikely", Spock admits with a quirk of his mouth that is probably the Vulcan equivalent of a smirk.

Jim pulls him close to kiss him wildly, because he can't not, but his mind is spinning in confusion. "So you don't want to fuck me?"

"It is not a matter of wanting, I assure you."

Jim takes his hand and guides it down to his ass. "Then do it."

He can see the resolve fading in Spock's eyes. "I do not wish to harm you, Jim."

"I'll take that risk."

"Jim…"

"Spock, trust me. We can do this."

That's when he feels Spock's cock hardening against him, and he realizes that the Vulcan has somehow been holding back his erection until now. Oh god, he's dying here, turned on like never before. Spock's body may look human, but there are astonishing differences – and he finds himself loving them. He hardly believes his eyes when he looks down and sees that the Vulcan penis is – obviously also at will - sweating out some sort of organic lubricant.

"Tell me what to do", Spock breathes, his voice trembling ever so slightly, and Jim can't hold back a small, lustful moan.

The Vulcan could just read his mind to find out what he needs to know, but Jim plainly gets off on showing him, and Spock indubitably knows this. He's so ready for this, and his muscles are probably relaxed enough already. He spreads his legs wide and guides Spock's hand to his entrance.

"Fuck me in here." He moans at the sensation when Spock's hot fingers touch him at the exact spot. He doesn't know why, but the mere thought of submitting himself to the other makes him squirm with frantic desire.

Spock moves to position himself, and Jim can see that there's still a last trace of doubt in his eyes.

"Spock, now", he orders or begs, he's not sure which, but it doesn't matter, because he can't possibly stand this for another second longer.

Spock closes his eyes as he very gently pushes inside inch by inch, and Jim lets out a small gasp because the faint pain is delicious, and he's almost unable to hold still. His cock is throbbing with desire, and he wraps his hand around it, just as Spock slides in fully. The Vulcan holds completely still for a second, and Jim can tell that he's mentally preparing himself to maintain control. And then he starts to move.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Jim moans in a way he never thought he would, reaching out blindly with his free hand, and finding Spock's hip to hold on to. The angle is perfect, the pleasure almost too intense. Spock fucks him slowly, finding a rhythm that suits them both with telepathic accuracy, each stroke pure, obscene ecstasy.

He's panting heavily, feverishly stroking his own cock to their rhythm, trying his best to focus his eyes on the other, because the look on Spock's face is utterly beautiful. He's fully concentrated, and yet his expression is softened by undeniable pleasure. Jim presses down into him, and he feels like he might be going insane from the sheer ecstasy of feeling Spock carefully moving inside of him. He needs this to be a little rougher, and he desperately transmits it through thought and movement. The Vulcan is hesitant, but he gives in, pushing into him just a little bit harder, just a little bit faster, and Jim squirms with delight, uncontrollably muttering things like "OhgodSpock…" with no pride left at this point, but loving it enough to want to die. Control passes back and forth between them until there's no noticeable difference anymore, and they are one, moving together, breathing together, and even Spock is panting softly now, biting his lower lip to keep a surprised moan from escaping.

It's enough to push Jim over the edge. No chance of holding back any longer. He spasms frantically as he comes, arching towards Spock, and Spock pushes in completely, deliciously stroking his prostate, and he thinks he's going to pass out from sheer pleasure.
He can feel Spock's control slipping the same moment, something feverish flashing in his eyes. He starts to pound into him harder, faster, and Jim, momentarily weakened, moans at the new sensation. He's aware of things getting out of hand somewhere at the back of his head, but he's flushed with the afterglow of his orgasm, and part of him really doesn't want Spock to stop. Wants him to let go completely, to experience what it's like to surrender to lust and pure instinct. But something in Spock's expression tells him that it's not what he wants, and he's riding him so savagely now it's actually painful.

"Spock…" Jim grabs his hand, and the Vulcan squeezes it almost too tightly. The change is immediate. Spock slows down noticeable, but it takes a while for him to regain enough control to start mouthing his calming Vulcan mantra, but it's working. Relief washes over Jim, and he is so full of emotion; it's unlike anything he's known. Spock looks directly at him for a second, and it's clear that he feels everything. His eyes roll back, and this time, his cock doesn't close up. He allows himself to come in short bursts, luxuriously giving in to it, and for a second Jim is getting hot flashes of what Spock is feeling, like a mind meld that isn't one. But there is some sort of connection, and they are sharing his alien orgasm in all its glorious intensity, hot and cold, cold and hot, burning, aching with delicious release.

* * *

They lie side by side afterwards, and Jim loves this most intimate moment when the Vulcan is completely relaxed. Peace seems to stretch out in the room like a lazy cat. This time the other is exhausted too, his cheeks covered in a sweet blush. Their fingers lock gently, and Spock smiles a little.

Jim turns his head to wink at him. "Told you it would work."

"Just barely, Jim. I advise against repeating this practice."

"You're kidding, right?"

He's sure he's not imagining the tiny twinkle in Spock's eyes. "However, you do show a strong tendency to disregard my advice."

Jim grins broadly. "Then I guess it would be only logical for me to disregard this one too?"

"I count on it."

Jim laughs, and rolls over, ending up half on top of Spock. They kiss slowly, deeply, and there's no denying the playful tenderness in it. There it is again, this wonderful feeling of wholeness. Like this, in all its strangeness, is meant to be. And everything that matters. They are complete opposites in almost every sense, and yet they complement each other perfectly. Like they are, in truth, one. Heart's beating like crazy, whispering the truth: Looks like you've finally found your place, Jim Kirk. You've found your home.
Jim is feeling all warm inside, but his tiredness is finally catching up with him, and so he lets himself rest on Spock's chest, heavy eyelids fluttering closed. Spock puts his arm around him and holds him, and Jim smiles when he softly says that Vulcan word again, the one from last time that sounds so nice. Slipping into the grey zone between waking and sleeping, its meaning suddenly arises from deep within his subconscious. A piece of information maybe randomly transmitted during his mind meld with the older Spock. He smiles against Spock's skin, sleepily muttering it back to him, just one small word that says it all: "T'hy'la." Soulmate.

- FIN –