Archive of Our Own

Title: Moment To Be
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: R
Pairing: Cadet Jim Kirk / Captain Christopher Pike
Summary: Pike contemplates the distraction in the middle of his office. From this prompt.
Content Advisory: Slash, teacher/student inappropriateness.
All Thanks To: asimaiyat for daring me to write this and my roommate for helping me develop the idea.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Title from guess which song?

Jim is, actually, completely quiet. Pike sits at his desk, legs crossed, pretending to grade student papers on a padd, but after rereading the same undistinguished line five times without extracting any sense from it, he gave up in favor of peering over the top of the padd at the distraction in the middle of his office.

Jim kneels naked on the carpet, shoulders burnished by the afternoon light, wrists crossed behind his back, head bowed so all Pike can see of his face is the dull golden fringe of his hair and the sharp tip of his nose. He's motionless except for steady breathing, not trying to speak even with body language. Two weeks ago he was mouthy and defiant, and Pike forgot himself enough to shove Jim over the desk and lay into him. When Pike eventually sent Jim away, limping and grinning broadly, he knew it was exactly what the kid had wanted in the first place.

Today, however, Jim is docile. Pike's not really sure why, but there's such a thing as not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Instead he looks at one of his most troublesome and attractive advisees -- counting Paris, who keeps threatening to quit every other week, and Gaila, who spikes his pulse every time she smiles at him -- and watches Jim's shoulders shift rhythmically as he breathes.

Another minute passes. Pike sets the padd down -- he doesn't slam it down, he doesn't vault out of his chair. He paces calmly around and leans against the desk, crossing his ankles, looking down at Jim's broad shoulderblades and the nutmeg-brown freckle on his nape. "You've kept your mouth shut for sixteen minutes," Pike tells Jim, whose only reply is a twitch of his shoulders. "I think that's a record for you."

Jim doesn't look up, though his nose crinkles a bit with a suppressed smile. Pike considers the young man kneeling before him for one more heady moment, then crouches to the same level. "At ease, Cadet," he says as he slides two fingers beneath Jim's chin and tips his face up. "Good job."

Given permission, Jim smiles radiantly as he leans back, setting his palms on his knees. The official at-ease stance includes hands clasped behind the back, but this is hardly official. "Thank you, Sir." Pike's gaze flickers down Jim's temptingly naked body, and by the time he drags it back up, the smile's become a cheerful smirk. "What does being a good boy get me?"

Pike narrows his eyes. "Try it for a little longer." Jim winks and drops his gaze, and though Pike can feel him vibrating he doesn't fidget. As he examines the shadows of Jim's lowered lashes on his cheekbones and judges how close that particular closed smile is to an accurate simulation of modesty, Pike considers his options. He could leave Jim kneeling on the office floor for another quarter-hour while he continues not getting his grading done. He could order Jim back into uniform and out the door or into the chair currently functioning as a clothes-rack, to unzip his uniform pants with teeth alone or to splay out over the desk. Pike's taken all of these options with Jim at various times.

He can do so much with this beautiful, indomitable boy.

Making today's choice, Pike tugs Jim closer, watching his smile flare to a grin as his chin tilts up, until their lips meet.