I don't own any of it.
I got this idea in my head and just had to write it. I apologize in advance.
Yep, Kirk decided, it was official: as soon as they docked on Earth he'd be putting in a formal request for thicker walls. Because there was nothing - absolutely nothing - worse than hearing other people getting it on.
Maybe he deserved it: he was certainly not one to hide the fact that his own conquests were high in number. Maybe he'd even kicked his roommate out to bring a girl into his room.
But only once or twice.
That he remembered.
Meaning, probably, the true estimate was a lot higher.
Kirk had never really been big on the whole karma thing, but, oh, this was enough to make him swear off sarcasm for life if it spared him another night like this.
But even more unjust than the fact that it was anybody but him in there was the fact that it seemed to be coming from Spock's quarters. And, in Kirk's humble opinion, there was something completely, undeniably wrong with being forced to hear your half-Vulcan First Officer in bed. Especially when another crash echoed through the wall and - he cringed - unwilling memories of a lecture on Vulcan strength rose to the forefront of his mind.
Kirk stood swiftly, stepping up to the wall. What would Spock do if he yelled at them to keep it down? Probably offer some completely reasonable excuse; "Given that signs of arousal were present in both parties, it was only logical to engage in -" Nope. No yelling. So he sat once again.
Could he blast music? That would probably attract too much attention from other crew members, Kirk figured.
Could he leave? Ah, but where would he go? The sickbay? Yeah, right.
Could he join them? Kirk grinned; now there was an idea. Except it was Spock, damn it. He'd never be able to look his First Officer in the eyes again. Hell, he probably wouldn't be able to already.
Kirk lowered his head into his hands with a groan. The noise was getting louder and - dare he say it? - more enthusiastic. More.. personal noises took the place of bumps and crashes.
Of fucking course.
And then it came: "Nyota!" It was Spock's voice, that was for sure. Only a Vulcan - or half-Vulcan or whatever, Kirk thought - could make pillow talk sound so collected, though there was a certain edge to the man's voice. Then it hit him: Nyota.
Yep, he really was going to put in that request. Sound-proof doors and walls, specifically around his room. Because Kirk was pretty sure that hearing his green-blooded, pointy-eared First Officer get it on with the girl he'd been chasing was akin to actual death.
Ego wounded and sanity bruised, he laid down slowly. Well played, Spock.
Well played.
The noises faded. It was.. Calm, he realized. Calm as a cucumber.
He smirked, his inner teenager rearing up. Cucumber. Nice and long and gree-
Oh, god.
There's an ice cream shop near me where the employees have to sing a song if you tip them. That's what I'll do: review, and I'll sing a happy little song to myself.