A/N:

Summary: Spock presents unexpected competition for Kirk during shore leave. Kirk thinks that's hot. Kirk/Spock Pre-Slash!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Wish I did.

Certain Advantages

Shore leave. Finally. Jim had been promising the crew a vacation for ages, but they'd kept getting interrupted by one galactic emergency after another.

"Mr. Sulu, plot a course for Mycroft VII."

"Again, Captain?"

"Yeah. But this time we're not taking any detours. This has got to be our billionth attempt, so if our communications officer receives any transmissions from Starfleet, I wouldn't mind experiencing some kind of malfunction with our system."

Uhura pursed her lips in an attempt not to smile. "I'll see what I can do, sir."

"To be precise, Captain, this marks merely our fifth attempt. It has been three hundred and seven point two hours since our first route to Mycroft VII was plotted."

"Five, a billion, same difference."

Spock gave him that look. The one Spock always gave when he disapproved.

"I mean, thank you, Mr. Spock, for your helpful precision."

Jim was rewarded with a raised eyebrow.

To his utter surprise, their shore leave destination loomed into sight without any complications, distress calls, diplomatic missions, looming wars, or accidental time travel of any kind.

And God, was that planet hot. Not hot like Vulcan (or New Vulcan, either). It was the opposite of Vulcan. It was a Mecca of sex.

He beamed down with Bones, Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu and found himself in the midst of a 24-7 rave. Loud, abrasive, alien music pulsed through him and immediately enticed him onto the dance floor.

"Keptin," Chekov said in his ear as they wound their way through the diverse crowd. "Uhura is telling me that the native Mycrovians are telepaths. They are knowing you are being interested in them from a distance."

"Awesome."

"They're supposed to be distant relations to the goddamn Vulcans, if you can believe it," Bones complained. "Can you imagine that green-blooded hobgoblin bein' cousins with some of these ladies?"

"Fucking awesome."

"Aye!" Scotty yelled into his ear, unnecessarily loud. "And they're great in bed! Ye can't find a better lay in all the galaxy! Keenser says they come highly recommended, Captain!"

"Uh, not awesome." Jim grimaced and tried not to think about Keenser having sex. Too late, he decided.

He turned around and soon found himself dancing cheek to cheek with one such Mycrovian: a nubile female humanoid with the cutest eyebrow ridges and the perkiest pointed ears he'd ever seen. She would look a little like a Vulcan if she didn't have that lascivious smile on her face. He gave her his most charming grin.

She wrapped one arm around his neck and gestured to someone in the distance. He looked past her beckoning hand and saw two Mycrovian males approaching. They were thin, dark-haired beauties in their own right, and Jim was delighted to find himself a member of an impromptu harem. One of the men was slightly taller and had some sort of funky alien tattoos on his arms. He replaced the female and put his hands on Jim's grinding hips.

Okay, he thought, apparently this guy's in charge.

His new dance partner grinned like he knew what Jim was thinking. And he probably did, Jim realized.

Jim wrapped himself around the man and kissed him. The alien tasted spicy and dangerous as their tongues explored each other. He felt the female and other male groping him as they danced as a unit.

All was going well until the man broke the kiss and gave a startled glance behind Jim's shoulder. His eyes had a strange, excited glint to them.

Jim turned to see what had distracted his dance partner. He barked a laugh when he saw Spock standing in the doorway. The Vulcan was the only person not gyrating to the music; he looked even more robotic than usual as he calmly surveyed the scene.

"That is an unbonded Vulcan," said the alien man.

"Wha? Spock? Yeah, he's a Vulcan. What d'y'mean, unbonded? He's got a girlfriend, if that's what you're getting at."

"According to him, not for the past sixty-seven point nine hours."

"Huh? Really? I hate being the last one to know these things. You seem . . . really happy about that . . ." The alien seemed downright delighted. Their foursome had stopped dancing and turned to stare at Spock as he approached, stoically stepping around some frenetic dancers.

Spock's eyes also had a bright glint to them. They were talking to each other, Jim realized. "He's probably just looking for me. I bet there's an intelligent virus loose on the ship or something. The same thing happened last week."

But the man shook his head. "No. Your Mr. Spock is here to enjoy himself."

"Yeah, I don't think so. Really. You've got the wrong guy."

By this time, Spock had reached them. If Jim hadn't known better, he could have sworn there was a ghost of a smile on his First Officer's lips.

"Don't be so hasty in your judgment, James Kirk," the man said. Jim didn't bother to mention that he'd never actually introduced himself. "There are certain advantages to being with a touch telepath. I hear Vulcans are animals in bed."

The alien left Jim's side and insinuated himself in Spock's personal space. Jim braced for some kind of rebuff from Spock, but none came. His mouth hung open as Spock's hands went up the alien's shirt and caressed the man's back.

"The trick is finding an unbonded one. They're rare, these days."

Because of Nero, Jim added silently. "Uh, Spock, if that guy's bothering you . . ."

"I am fine, Captain, thank you."

And they started kissing. Passionately. Jim stood there dumbstruck until he felt a familiar arm slung across his shoulders. "Hey, Bones."

"Jim, I think you've just been cock-blocked by a Vulcan."

"Uh. Yeah."

Spock pulled away from the alien long enough to fix Jim with his best blank expression. "Forgive the intrusion, Captain. In the spirit of sharing, I admit that Vulcans are not comfortable experiencing intimate relations with groups. Therefore, you can have the other two."

The Mycrovian laughed and pulled Spock toward the exit. Spock followed obediently.

"Well, I'll be damned," Bones mused. "Spock's on one hell of a rebound."

"Yeah. Why did I not know about that, by the way? And Bones . . . he's really hot."

"There'll be other Mycrovians, Jim. Don't let that green-blooded hobgoblin spoil your vacation."

"I wasn't talking about the Mycrovian."

Bones looked from Jim to the doorway, where Spock and the alien had paused for some necking. Jim felt his body heat up at the sight of his First Officer clawing at the Mycrovian's back. His hair, which was usually impeccably tidy, was tousled. His face was greener than usual.

"I have to have him."

Bones managed a fairly good impression of Spock's eyebrows. "Nothing good is ever gonna come of that, Jim. Nothing good at all."