Starstruck

AN: piece inspired by "Starstruck ft. Space Cowboy & Flo Rida" by Lady GaGa.

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, not the characters and the song belongs to Lady Gaga and associates!

Rating: M

He rolled his eyes again. He had no interest. His roommate however, kept nudging him out of falling asleep, something about hating having those 'death black' eyes looking anywhere in his direction; gave him the shivers or something. Jim didn't care. He was beyond paying attention today. It had probably been a bad idea to go out all night, but how the Hell else was he supposed to liven up a Tuesday?

He had dark circles under his eyes, and such a short amount of energy that nothing his roommate could do would wake him up when he passed out this time.

He was slammed against the wall, hard, felt every vertebra roll and connect with the paneling. There would be bruises there later. That was so hot. A body was flush against his, hips rolled seductively against his, bringing him to life. Hands moved up from his hips, pulling his shirt over his head. Lips connected with the side of his neck, sucked on his pulse. His back arched.

Slam. He was pushed back against the wall. He was not in control here.

The fingers on his skin were hot, too hot, and they knew him too well. They pressed into his skin just right, played across the taut skin of his chest, counted his ribs, felt the ones that had been broken and set improperly, grazed his nipples, hard, tight. The light touch made him jump, lean into the touch, but a strong hand pressed against the centre of his chest, held him against the wall with no effort.

Those lips found his, that tongue like fire invading his mouth, sliding against his teeth, wrestling with his own tongue, fierce and controlling, powerful, stronger than he was. The fingers of the hand not holding him up continued their exploration of his bared skin, slowly tracing patterns to the front of his jeans, popped the button open expertly, lean fingers pulling the zipper down, the sound lost to his ears as he was intoxicated by the sound of their breaths, the panting, the small noises rising out of his throat, embarrassing and amazing.

Those talented fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers, wrapped around him tightly, stroked him deliciously.

He fought against the hand on his chest, his entire body trying to arch onto that figure, lean, strong, his owns hands roaming over the chest, the arms, the back of the person that had him so star-struck. No one had ever touched him like this, made him forget everything. He didn't even remember his own name. This felt too good. It was better than anything. He couldn't remember having ever been with someone this perfect, someone who knew exactly where to touch him. He struggled in his head, trying to remember who this was. He needed this again.

The hand wrapped around him worked him faster, and the friction was amazing. His hips bucked into that hand, hot as fire around him. His eyes were rolling back into his head, vision white. He was so close.

His hands travelled up that neck, smooth as silk, pulse raging, into the short hair, down along an ear. A gracefully pointed ear.

There was a shove at his shoulder. It was jarring. His mind reeled, spinning, working back, filtering out the sensations. The shove came again, harder and his eyes snapped open. He glanced over to his roommate, who had this look in his eyes that just screamed 'I regret having sit next to you,' and inclined his head pointedly, silently telling him to turn around with wide eyes.

He hesitantly turned to see the professor, face blank, but eyes filled with the slightest amount of disapproval and confusion?

His entire face felt red hot, blood rushing to his cheeks. He prayed for an aneurysm.

Spock's head inclined slightly to the right.

"I'd like to speak with you after class, Cadet Kirk."

And when the professor was back at the front of the class, Jim had finally let out that breath he had been holding in.

"How loud?" He whispered, leaning in close to his roommate.

"Loud."

Damn.

AN: If this happened in one of my classes, I would die laughing. Awk~ward~