Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Gene Rodenberry, Paramount, and (probably) JJ Abrams. I'm not any of those people; I'm just a penniless music student playing with pretty toys. Don't sue me, please. It really wouldn't be worth it!

Warning: Watch out for M/M sex! Don't like it? don't read it!

Author's Note: I've only seen the new Star Trek once, and I wasn't very impressed with it. (Sorry!) However, one little line got stuck in my head so I just had to write something about it. And voila! It was meant to be a tiny little PWP, but Spock just wouldn't cooperate so out popped this – this whatever it is. I hope you enjoy. Reviews would be much appreciated!

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Unhealthy Obsession

Lieutenant Commander Spock could not believe the arrogance of Captain James T. Kirk. He had observed, with some puzzlement, the cocky young trainee stress his assumed title in his latest, and final, Kobayashi Maru test. Spock had also notice the boy sit in the captain's chair on the bridge of the Enterprise with far too much enthusiasm. When Spock was in temporary command, the miscreant even went so far as to attempt to occupy the chair again, which Spock quickly put a halt to with a brusk "Out of the chair."

Spock knew Kirk was only human, and therefore bound to be illogical, but Spock still considered him to be one of the most illogical beings he had ever encountered. In fact, Commander Spock was nearly convinced that Captain Kirk had a strange fixation with the captain's chair. His suspicions were confirmed when he was invited to the captain's quarters one evening for a game of Tri-Dimensional chess.

In the captain's living quarters was a perfect replica of the captain's command chair, lacking only functioning master control switches but otherwise exact down to the last detail. Spock was speechless.

Captain Kirk coolly regarded his stunned first officer for a moment before speaking. "Ah, Mr. Spock! How kind of you to join me."

"It is my pleasure, captain." Spock inclined his head deferentially, not believing the arrogance of the young human seated before him.

Kirk waved an expansive hand, gesturing Spock to take a seat across the small table from him. "Come in. I have the board all set up."

Spock stepped forward and could not help notice that the chair he was lowering himself into was yet another replica, this time of an ordinary crewman's seat from the bridge. He raised raised an eyebrow at Kirk, wondering how long he had had this unhealthy obsession. The only answer he got was a raised eyebrow from across the table.

"Would you car for some Saurian brandy?"

"No, thank you."

"Oh, come now, Mister Spock. I insist." Kirk levered himself out of the chair and moved to a small sideboard laden with a jug of brandy and two glasses. Spock watched the captain slosh generous amounts into both glasses before gracefully depositing one in front of the Vulcan and settling back in his ridiculous chair.

"Cheers," Kirk said, raising his own glass, a half smile on his ghosting around his lips.

Spock said nothing, merely raising his glass and nodding at the other male. A look of annoyance flashed briefly across Kirk's face before it disappeared behind the glass. Half of the liquid disappeared down the captain's throat in one gulp, making Spock raised his eyebrow again, all the reaction he would allow himself to the human's little display.

Kirk slammed the glass down on the table and sighed loudly as fire coursed down his throat and into his belly; Spock raised his eyebrow higher, completely unimpressed. Annoyance flickered over Kirk's face again.

"Well, drink up," he ordered.

Spock lowered his eyebrow while simultaneously raising his glass. Something in him made him throw his head back in a vulgar gesture as he tossed the alcoholic beverage down his throat, neatly consuming the entire contents of his glass. He decorously set his emptied glass down on the table, only allowing the faintest hitch to his breathing as he felt the brandy make its way through his body.

Kirk gave a disgruntled sniff and lifted his glass again, draining it dry before getting up to retrieve the jug of brandy and bringing back to the table to refill both their glasses. Spock's protest died on his lips as a greater amount of expensive liquid was poured into his glass; the glare that shot out from beneath Kirk's lowered brows also helped to convinced Mr. Spock to hold his tongue.

The ritual was repeated, though this time it was Kirk who gulped the entire contents of his glass; Spock restrained himself and finished his in three large, not-quite swallows. While the human gasped loudly with the effort of consuming the highly alcoholic beverage, the Vulcan's breath did not even hitch this time. Another glare marred Captain Kirk's attractive features, breaking futilely against the implacable barrier of logic the first officer wrapped himself in.

"Shall we begin, sir?" Spock asked courteously, knowing that a human of Kirk's size would not tolerate the effects of much more brandy, especially at the rate it was being consumed. He was also moved by the unsettling feeling of the alcohol stewing in his own digestive system.

It was a simple matter to suppress the sensation and turn his attention to the game as the captain made the first move, claiming the white pieces as his own. Spock did not mind. Chess was a highly logical game, and he did not doubt his abilities.

The game went quickly as Kirk made reckless moves that caused Spock to raise an internal eyebrow lest he give away his opponent's folly. Spock won easily, much to the captain's disgust.

As he mated the white king, Spock murmured quietly, "Check and mate."

Kirk glowered at his king as though the inanimate object was the reason for his loss before conceding defeat and sullenly flicking his king over. "You win," he growled and promptly poured himself more Saurian brandy, pointedly not offering Spock a refill.

Spock did not mind. His body was unaccustomed to the amount of alcohol he had already consumed, and he did not wish to add more to the churning pit that was his stomach.

Kirk gulped another glass of brandy before gasping out, "I want a rematch, Mr. Spock."

"Certainly," Spock agreed and began setting the pieces up again. Kirk commandeered white again and play began in deadly ernest.

Kirk seemed determined to win, and he considered every option for an almost ridiculous amount of time before finally making a move. Spock found himself unable to watch the captain as his eyes flickered over the many boards, darting between options; he could see every move Kirk was considering and felt confident that nothing the human could do would surprise him.

About half way through the game, when Kirk's pieces had been reduced by a quarter, Spock found his attention straying to the ostentatious replica his opponent was sitting in. It was remarkably accurate, and Spock could not help but wonder where the captain had obtained it as it was clearly not standard issue or an inexpensive facsimile. It was no wonder that Spock came as close to actually jumping as a Vulcan could get when Kirk interrupted his musings.

"Do you like my chair, Mr. Spock?" His blue eyes glittered at Spock over the board as long fingers folded together and propped up a chiseled chin.

Spock was silent for a moment as he weighed his answer. "I find it – fascinating."

Kirk's eyes practically flashed fire at the perceived compliment, but he didn't say anything more. Spock waited a moment then looked pointedly back at the board. He had already planned out the next four moves for him and his opponent when Kirk dragged his attention away again.

"Wouldn't you like to take a closer look at it?"

"Captain?" Spock looked at him, genuinely confused.

"I know you want to," Kirk gloated. "I've seen you staring at it since you walked in here. Now, why don't you stop pretending and just come over here and look at it?"

Spock hesitated a moment, weighing his options. The captain was drunk, but he was still the Captain. There was also the beautiful replica to consider; it was very intriguing. Spock made his decision and stood up.

He cautiously made his way over to the chair and bent over it, clasping his hands behind his back and making a point of not touching what he was studying, just like the Elders did. Even at close quarters, the replica chair was nearly perfect. The critical buttons that were exclusive to the command chair on the bridge were still present as nonfunctioning knobs. Everything was perfect. Spock stood up and caught Kirk's eye.

The bright blue was dancing and... hungry. "Well, what do you think?" He drawled.

"Impressive, captain. A perfect replica," Spock acknowledged.

"And?"

Spock thought for a moment, wondering what else he could add. "My compliments to the manufacturer."

"And?"

Spock's mind whirled. There was nothing he could add unless - "It suits you, captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock." Captain Kirk sat back and grinned like the proverbial cat who got away with the cream.

Spock waited for a moment, wondering what else there was to say. When nothing was forthcoming, he cleared his throat and said, "If that's all, sir, I'll bid you good night."

As he made to withdraw, Kirk stopped him. "Aren't you curious about anything else?"

"Sir?" Spock stopped and turned to look at Kirk again.

"You've inspected the chair. Don't you want to know more about the person sitting in the chair?" Kirk sprawled back, lazily turning the chair with idle flicks of his ankle.

"You are Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the starship Enterprise. You are twenty-eight standard years old, the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet. You are also the only cadet ever to defeat the Kobayashi Maru test," Spock added wryly.

"Uh huh," Kirk agreed with a small grin. "But what else do you know? Can you tell me anything that you won't find in my service record or personnel file?"

"That would be an invasion of your privacy, sir," Spock said stiffly.

Kirk just looked at him with one eyebrow raised, doing a fair imitation of his first officer. Spock remained impassive. "Aren't you the least bit curious, Mr. Spock?" He wheedled after a long moment of silence.

Spock hesitated, swallowing down his automatic denial. After his little chat with his older self from another timeline, Spock had come to realize some things about himself, including his emotions. He pondered deeply before replying, "Yes, I am curious."

"Good. Good, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, and he reminded Spock of the villains in historical "movies" from the twentieth century. "Come back over here."

Kirk waved him closer, and Spock obeyed, moving to stand directly in front of his captain. He fought to quell the un-Vulcan like flutter of fear in his stomach which coupled with the alcohol to make him feel almost nauseous. Spock's attention was torn away from himself when Kirk reached out a hand and tugged on his hip, pulling him even closer.

Spock let himself be pulled, shocked by the contact and his new position between Kirk's spread knees. His mind raced with possibilities, but he shied away from the most obvious, logical, conclusion. Kirk couldn't be serious. A hand tugging on his made him realize that logic was undeniable.

Once again, Spock let Kirk pull him into position. Now he was not only between Kirk's knees, Spock was on his knees and very close to Captain Kirk. His logical mind flashed through possibilities again, and this time, he did not shy from his conclusion.

Spock's Vulcan mind raced through every scrap of information he knew of human sexuality and practices. He could put a name to what he was about to do; it was called oral sex or, more commonly, giving head. The tiny part of him that was human, the part that experienced emotions, was scared, curious, and excited all at once. It was almost too much for Spock to handle, and he felt himself begin to tremble.

Kirk reached out a gentle hand to rub Spock's arm, trying to still the tremors that racked his frame. After a moment with no sign of improvement, Kirk moved his hand to Spock's cheek and stroked him. Spock closed his eyes and took in the sensation. He was rarely ever touched; touching was foreign, taboo, human. Touching was nice. That thought let Spock relax enough to open his eyes and meet the bright gaze of the man sitting in the chair. Kirk smiled encouragingly and nodded to him, never removing his hand from Spock's cheek.

Spock gathered himself. He reached forward and found the fasteners of Kirk's trousers and opened them. Spock's mind idly threw him the fact that the zipper was invented in the year 1893 and had been in use for centuries. Then he was confronted with Kirk's undergarments, and all … trivia was driven from his mind. His normally graceful fingers fumbled with soft material as he tugged it down, exposing Kirk's genitals.

Spock paused again. The representations he had been shown in anatomy classes had been accurate, but they somehow failed to truly represent the human body. His rate of breathing increased, a purely human reaction, when he was confronted with the swelling member. Kirk was already half hard, and Spock had only brushed him with the merest of touches. It was amazing, enthralling, fascinating.

Kirk was still looking at him, blue eyes intense, and Spock knew what was expected of him. He could not help but tease Kirk for a moment; he trailed a finger along the length of the captain's hardening member, watching it twitch as he circled the glans. Kirk's hand left off stroking Spock's cheek to tangle in his hair as a deep moan rose from Kirk's chest.

"Come on," Kirk urged. Spock allowed himself a half smile before he bent forward and tongued the head of Kirk's cock into his mouth.

From that point forward, Spock's mind entered an unusual duality. One part of his mind, the mind that had been trained by Vulcans for most of his life, noted the phases of Kirk's arousal with detached scientific accuracy. The human part, that was so innocent and curious and emotional, catalogued Kirk's every reaction to Spock's slightest movement.

Harder suction as Spock pulled back made Kirk tense and gasp softly in pleasure. A swirl of his tongue around the glans made the fingers in his hair flex and grip his skull as though Kirk wanted to crush him. Teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of Kirk's member made it throb faster and harder as Kirk's pulse raced. Controlling his natural gag reflex and taking Kirk deep into his throat earned Spock breathy groans and deep moans. He found the whole process fascinating.

Spock knew that people who experienced situations like these usually claimed they felt like the moment had lasted forever, but his Vulcan mind robbed Spock of that pleasure. It could not have been more than ten minutes before Kirk stiffened beneath him and gasped loudly as his orgasm overtook him.

Spock held himself absolutely still as his mouth was filled with Kirk's seed, relishing the taste and feel of it. When the captain collapsed in his chair, completely boneless and sated, Spock retrieved his empty glass and quietly spat into it. He was fairly certain that swallowing would be perfectly safe, but logic told him not to take the chance. Kirk watched him through dull eyes, his flushed cheeks, disheveled uniform and complete relaxation giving away what had just happened.

"If that will be all, sir?" Spock asked once his mouth was empty.

Kirk stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and answering, "You don't want to stick around for some pillow talk, commander?"

Spock searched for the meaning of pillow talk before replying. "No, thank you, captain. I believe it would be best if I left now."

"Of course," Kirk snorted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Very well, Mr. Spock. I'll see you on the bridge at oh seven hundred."

"Oh seven hundred hours, sir," Spock repeated dutifully. Then he made a sharp about face and exited the captain's quarters. Oh seven hundred was a long way away, and Spock had much to think about and analyze. Owing to the sensitive nature of his pondering, it was best done in the privacy of his own quarters.

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Live long and prosper. |\/|