A/N: PWP written on break from my other ST fic, Nelaya. Listened to You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring and Headstrong by TRAPT and all kinds of angry mood music.
They fought about the stupidest things. Most of the time, Jim couldn't even remember what they were about afterwards. It was no different today. His father had been brought up, an unusually low blow from Spock, and Jim found himself taking a swing at him in outrage, his knuckles colliding painfully with Spock's jaw.
The Vulcan looked shocked for a whole second while Jim swore and shook his throbbing hand, biting back the tears that had welled up in reflex to the pain. He'd probably fractured something, by the feel of it, but that didn't stop him from throwing another punch with his other hand.
Spock caught him easily this time, his hand enveloping Jim's fist and pulling, shoving forward with the heel of his palm against Jim's chest at the same time so that he stumbled back. With a grunt, Jim felt his back hit the wall and snarled, struggling against Spock's vise-like grip.
"Let go, damn you," he growled, raising a knee to kick Spock in the stomach. Spock made an impatient noise in his throat and jostled his leg roughly between Jim's knees to keep him still. Jim automatically clamped his thighs together to prevent himself from involuntarily grinding down on Spock, effectively trapping himself in place.
They stood there for a few moments, Spock pinning Jim's wrists to the wall by his head, his body all but pinning Jim flat. "I am sorry," Spock said finally, over the sound of Jim's heavy breathing. "I did not mean it."
Jim snorted, but his rage was already subsiding to a more manageable burn. Spock was so much more free now with apologies than he used to be. He remembered when it took a series of underhanded and conniving methods to get Spock to admit he had misspelled a single word in his report.
"Well, I did," he muttered, eyeing the grayish-green bruise already forming beside Spock's chin with some satisfaction. It wasn't often that he got to land one on Spock. He was slowly becoming aware of their positions, a rivet in the wall digging uncomfortably in his back. He shifted, his knees moving apart slightly, and rubbed against Spock's thigh.
Jim wasn't sure if the hitched breath he heard was his or Spock's, but the groan as he ground down again was all his. The heat of his anger was shifting into an equally hot blaze of want, the duelling emotions sparking an unexpected reaction. Part of him was vaguely mortified that he had managed to turn the situation into this, of all things, but every other part was screaming for more of Spock's mouth and hands and skin.
"Touch me," he breathed, his lips just brushing against the bruise on Spock's jaw. Spock hesitated for half a second, then turned his face, brutally slanting his mouth against Jim's. His tongue, cool but burning, twisted into Jim's mouth, his hands releasing Jim's wrist and pushing under his shirt. Jim had always loved the difference in their body temperatures, how Spock's cold hands traced icy trails across his hot flesh. How his fingers eventually became warm from Jim's skin, like they were becoming part of him.
Spock slid his leg up even higher against the wall, so that Jim was all but straddling his thigh, and reached down to grasp the back of Jim's knee, pulling his leg up and hitching it around Spock's waist. Unbalanced, Jim cursed and clutched at Spock's neck to keep from falling over. He then decided that he liked this position very much, and rolled his hips lazily against Spock's.
This time, the sharp intake of air was very much from Spock. He bit at Jim's lips, his tongue following instantly to smooth away the sting, his hands digging marks into Jim's hips as he thrust up against him over and over.
Jim gave a slight grunt with every upward motion, more air than noise being punched out with every mindnumbing move. The friction against his trousers and Spock's was overwhelming, and he soon realized he was about to come right in his pants like some virginal fifteen-year-old. Not that he had ever been a virginal fifteen-Ah, crap, why did I ever teach him how to kiss-
"Wait," he gasped into Spock's mouth. Their kisses had become uncoordinated as they unwound, open mouths simply panting and pressing against each other rather than following the usual routine. Spock made a strange noise, a weird half growl that vibrated through their touching chests and against Jim's lips. He didn't slow his pace, going faster if anything else.
"Spock," Jim whined, panicking slightly. He was gonna...he had to...what? He couldn't think straight anymore. He settled for groaning into Spock's neck, his nails digging into Spock's arms. Spock's hands were still tracing patterns into his skin, rubbing below his nipples tantalizingly, but now they slid down, slipping between their heaving bodies.
A palm ground against Jim's crotch, teasing out the outline of his rigid erection, and with a sudden twist of long fingers, Jim was gone. He clung to Spock, choking out a half-formed name as he rode out the aftershocks, body shuddering as the final tremors ripped through him.
Finally, he settled limply against Spock, panting wearily. He could still feel a hard bulge just beneath his hips, Spock's arms trembling with the intensity of his arousal. His eyes had gone completely black, the pupils blown out. It made him look dangerous, feral, and altogether too hot. Jim's cock made a valiant effort to harden again.
He shifted his grip on Spock's shoulders, ready to offer to finish Spock off, when Spock's hands were suddenly behind his thighs, lifting him bodily off the ground. Biting back a startled curse, Jim automatically locked his legs around Spock's waist, desperately clinging to Spock's neck as Spock stepped away from the wall.
"What are you-grnghhh!" He grunted as Spock spun and slammed him down on his blessedly cleared desk, a hand shoving on his chest and forcing him down on his elbows. "Ow!" Jim complained indignantly, his irritation fueling his steadily re-emerging craving.
Spock stood between his legs, still dangling awkwardly off the edge of his desk, his chest rising shallowly in quick breaths as he looked at Jim. Jim felt a hot flush coloring his neck and ears at the scrutinizing gaze. Spock was practically eating him with his eyes, licking him all over and-
Jim swallowed hard, then raised a knee slowly, propping his foot up on the desk and spreading his legs suggestively. "Like what you see?" he breathed, in his best come-hither voice.
Spock stepped forward and gripped Jim's thighs, pushing him farther apart. His pants were now stretched uncomfortably tight around his crotch, his erection becoming even more evident. Spock raised his eyebrow at the sight, the equivalent of a Vulcan leer, no doubt. His hands slid down Jim's legs slowly, pressing hard against the flesh until Jim was forced to stifle a groan. He was definitely not going to give Spock the satisfaction of making him finish first twice in a row.
"Hurry," he growled, his free leg kicking against the desk impatiently. Spock's hands froze, then deliberately slowed as he unfastened Jim's pants and tugged ever so slowly at the zipper, parting the fabric without pulling it down.
"Damn you," Jim gasped, as Spock's knuckles brushed against his soaked underwear. "Hurry-fuck," he panted coherently, relishing the word as Spock bent and pressed his lips to the clinging material.
"Is that an order, sir?" Spock murmured. The sensation of his lips tickling against his erection had Jim's leg flailing against the desk again.
"Yes, damn it!" Jim shuddered as Spock opened his mouth, taking the head of his cock in through his briefs, his tongue idly tracing circles on the wet fabric. "Yes-Spock, shit, don't stop-"
Spock jerked Jim's pants off all the way, pulling his boots off roughly and hurtling them over his shoulder carelessly. Jim groaned when the briefs came off next, the waistband catching on his hard-on and tugging at his cock all too brutally. He desperately clung on to sanity, remembering that Spock still hadn't come once.
"Come here," he demanded, opening his legs more in an effort to reel Spock in. "No more games."
By the look in Spock's eyes, he agreed. Jim grunted as the weight of a horny Vulcan suddenly pressed down on his chest, his open mouth ravaged by a brutal kiss that was all teeth and tongue and crushing want. Jim fumbled blindly with his right hand, undoing Spock's trousers and grinding his palm against his throbbing length. Spock made a startled hum, his hips jolting forward involuntarily. Jim chuckled in delight, giving another long, slow pull, then flinched as cold hands slid under his shirt, mapping out familiar trails across his stomach and to his chest.
Spock pinched at his nipples, rolling them between his fingers, and one sharp tug had Jim arching off the table, his teeth scraping hard against Spock's neck as he failed to muffle a heady moan.
Then one hand was moving down and gripping Jim's cock with just the right pressure, intended to pleasure, but not to bring him over the edge. Despite being slick from coming before, the slide and the slight burn of friction of Spock's palm managed to pull another contented groan from Jim.
"Come on, I need you," he heard himself muttering over and over again, tugging at Spock's head insistently.
Spock, complying, raised his hips against Jim's, his trousers sliding down with every rocking motion until they were pressed flesh to flesh and moving together. Spock's thrusts became harder, less rhythmic, mouth falling slightly open as his composure unraveled and dissipated. Jim looked on even as his vision flickered and groans shuddered from his throat, marveling even after all this time together at how human Spock looked in moments like this.
His hands moved on their own, reaching around and gripping Spock's ass, pulling him forward and driving their thrusts even harder.
"Shit, Spock," he gasped, feeling the finale coming. "I'm gonna...damn it!" He squeezed his eyes shut, clinging on for as long as he could.
What he didn't expect was for Spock to come first. With a muffled groan, Spock tensed, his hips stuttering for a few more feeble thrusts before wet heat spread across Jim's bare stomach below his shucked up shirt. And the look on Spock's face, the flushed, blissed out expression of sheer pleasure, was what finally pushed Jim over the edge.
He bit in his moan, his lip nearly worn raw by the amount of chewing he'd done on it these past few minutes, and clung on to Spock as he came. "Spock," he breathed, pulling him down shakily for a final, boneless kiss that was more intent than actual action.
It was a very disgruntled Spock that eventually wiped Jim down and cleaned off the desk, the tips of his ears flaring green as he dabbed the white liquid off Jim's stomach.
"Cheer up," Jim couldn't help but smirk, leaning against the wall and admiring Spock's ass as he bent over the desk to reach the other end. "If it makes you feel better, I came once before you."
"That does not excuse my lack of control," Spock said stiffly, straightening abruptly as if he had noticed Jim's leering stare.
"You'll have to work on it, then."
"Indeed."
"You know, practice makes perfect." Jim swayed forward, placing his hands on Spock's hips teasingly. Spock leaned back against him unconsciously, his back meeting Jim's chest contentedly. "Hmm."
And somehow, Jim had already forgotten what they had been fighting about.
A/N: Well, that was fun. This was unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.
