Jim Kirk's greatest secret was born the first time he had to sneak out a window to avoid an angry boyfriend.
He was sixteen years old and augmenting his afterglow by congratulating himself on having spent several hours with a "woman of a certain age (twenty), extraordinary experience (she was from back East) and insatiable appetites (she loved sex in all its permutations)."
She had proven to be both pleasurably edifying and wildly creative. He recuperated from his exertions, in full expectation of spending a great deal more time learning from her.
Until the sound of a door closing sent her into a panic at the thought of being caught in flagrante delicto. After that, young Kirk found himself clutching a collection of clothing as she silently, franticly urged him to make haste in making his exit. It was an experience he would come to repeat many times throughout his life.
Fortunately for him, that first woman lived on the ground floor. Even more fortunate (he was about half a kilometer away from her home by the time he realized it was a good thing) she'd shoved him out the window with her panties instead of his boxer briefs.
He reveled in the rush he got just from wearing the things. He didn't even stop to think before he vowed to get another pair. It wasn't long before lounging in lingerie had become a habit hard to break.
Panties pilfered from paramours were the ideal, but filling his drawers in that manner was impractical at best and criminal at worst. He wasn't above begging for them or buying his own, but honestly acquired unmentionables always ended feeling more comfortable and comforting than stimulating.
But it wasn't just that the slippery fabric felt good sliding against his recently over-used man parts that made young Jim fall in love with female attire. Part of him was pretty sure that first pair of panties were a good luck charm, allowing him to escape that brute of a boyfriend, unscathed.
Eventually, he realized the luck o' the lingerie could be applied just about any area of his life.
.
It wasn't an easy thing, ordering his XO to remain on the Enterprise while Uhura did her thing, planetside, with a potentially hostile population. He talked out of his ass every time he assured Spock that no harm would come to the Vulcan's mate. Jim believed every word tripping off his own tongue, but belief without proof was bullshit — even for a guy who didn't believe in no win scenarios.
By the time he retired for the evening, Kirk was exhausted. He was only halfway changed into his most comfortable loungewear when his door chimed ten minutes later. There was no doubt about who he'd find on the other side.
Jim didn't bother turning around as the entrance to his quarters hissed open. Footsteps sounded across his sitting room, halting at his bedroom doorway. "Look, Spock, I know you're really worried about her…"
"I am not worried, Captain. I am merely curious about the current state of one in whom I have reasonable interest."
Whatever!
"…but Uhura knows what the hell she's doing," Kirk said right over him. "This'll work. And it wouldn't if either you or I was down there with her. The Cygneti revere strong women. Try to let her do her thing without breathing down your bond like a sled-dog on amphetamines."
He finished pulling the form-fitting undershirt over his head, and smoothed it over his muscled torso before facing his first officer.
"I mean it, Spock. She doesn't need to be distracted during delicate negotiations."
But Spock wasn't looking him in the eye. The Vulcan's… Jim could only call it a glare… was burning a whole through the red and brown silk of his shirt. Pointy-eared bastard was killing the sense of peace he'd normally gain from donning the outfit.
"What?" he asked, glaring almost as hard as his friend. "Jealous? You want a pair of your own?"
Before Spock could explain that Vulcans didn't experience jealousy, Kirk quickly explained — well, as quickly as twelve years of erotic adventure and derring-do could be explained — how wearing his Underoosas would up the odds for the lieutenant's safety.
Spock didn't look convinced, but six hours later, when Uhura herself — safe and sound, just like he'd said she would be — came to Kirk's quarters to claim her husband, he gave Jim a quick nod that could easily have meant "thank you."
A/N: And so begins the fourth, and final "Sock And Underoosa adventure."
Disclaimer: Star Trek and its associated characters and concepts are still not mine after all this time.