Title: Home (Multichapter fic with 35 parts)

Beta: Lissaea at Livejournal & T'Key'La

Warnings, Themes and Tropes, etc.: bondage, torture, prostitution, explicit sex, drug use

Summary: The Vulcans need a new home planet, so the Enterprise and her crew set out to find one for them.

"They'd come all the way for this? Which mad astronomer had sent them out here? Whose twisted idea had it been?"

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.

– Home-Part 14 of 35 –

Jim licked his dry lips. It was absolutely amazing, to have someone with whom he could be this open.

He pulled Spock up off the couch and held him close. At the feel of Spock against him, Jim felt his chest constrict, as if a ton of steel were crushing it. With all the strength he had, he held Spock tighter still so that it was painful. It was the reassurance he craved.

"Spock," he said breathlessly.

Damn, he hadn't wanted it to come out that way. He loosened his grip so he could pull back and look at Spock's face, at those lips. Jim's hand moved down Spock's arms and then wrist, and before he could think their fingers touched again. He didn't have the same steady hands as the Vulcan—the tips of his fingers moved against Spock's. The alien's larger chest rose suddenly, breaking the silence with a gasp.

The sight of him reacting like that unleashed the same dangerous excitement in Jim he'd felt in the chamber before he'd passed out. They were so close, their bodies touching all over the place through their clothes.

His eyes flicked to Spock's lips. Then he caught Spock's mouth in a kiss and hoped Spock wouldn't pull away, hoped that he also felt a thrill run through his body when their lips met.

After a few agonizing heartbeats Spock returned the kiss softly. Jim's blood was on fire and he didn't want to put it out, he wanted his blood to burn more. What hurt could it do if today, right now, he expressed the love he felt for his friend in a less traditional way? Stoking the flames he reached around Spock's neck with his free hand, stroking the hairs there gently, before running it down Spock's back.

He drew his lips away, cupped Spock's face in one hand and wondered at how hungry he was for this intimate contact. It had been so long since he'd last felt this way about anyone, was this all going too fast?

Spock brought up one of his own hands to Jim's face, stroking along his jaw, chin and lips with the back of his fingers. Knowing that his body was being read like an open book made him shiver with longing for more. To hell with caution, he could deal with the fallout later.

"Do you…" he wetted his bottom lip, looked into Spock's dark brown eyes and said in a lower voice. "When we touch like this-the thrill, the anticipation. You feel it too, don't you? Do you want … I mean, we're both responsible adults, right?"

Spock planted kiss after kiss lightly on his cheeks and along his jaw all the way to his ear. The way Spock's lips brushed over his earlobe excited his sensitive skin.

"Life is short," Spock said.

Those words brought the tight feeling back to Jim's chest and he hugged Spock again. If he'd lost Spock … the idea that he might never have seen those eyes again pained him beyond belief. The excitement he felt paled in comparison to a sudden wave of raw urgency that broke over him.

Spock leant in for another kiss. Jim didn't want to think and returned it furiously, running his hands all over Spock's back and pulling at his shirt. Spock was still standing as straight as always, inflexible as warp core shielding, even as Jim rubbed his body against Spock's, kissing him furiously. He let his hands explore—Spock was as hard as he was. The sensations overwhelmed Jim's thoughts, so he found himself stumbling forwards, when the Vulcan no longer wanted to stand against Jim's insistent pressure.

He backed Spock up to one of the walls of his quarters. It reminded him of the position they'd been in on Saketh when they'd only just escaped death by a hair's breadth. Jim wholeheartedly agreed with Spock-life was too precious to not experience it to the fullest. And in space you never knew which breath might be your last.

He wrapped his lips around Spock's chin and sucked on it, grazing it slightly with his teeth, before kissing his way down Spock's neck to his shirt collar. Their hips were flush against each other and Jim was panting heavily with anticipation, when Spock brought his hand around to rest on the small of Jim's back.

Jim moaned. "Maybe we should move this to my bed?"

In reply Spock merely raised an eyebrow—coupled with his intense, unwavering stare it made Jim's skin tingle and his muscles restless. He took Spock's hand and led him past the flimsy partition to his sleeping area. When they reached the edge of the bed, Spock proceeded to trail his fingers over Jim's lips before kissing him again.

Spock reached for Jim's waistband, and ran his fingers along it. It made Jim want to grind into Spock harder, but he also wanted the Vulcan to relax-as he didn't know how this could possibly work otherwise-so he controlled himself, pulled Spock's hand up to his lips and kissed each finger lightly.

Spock's body remained stiff, but his breathing was coming faster, his chest heaving to keep up. Jim felt his stomach warm with lust at the sight. He placed another kiss on the index finger and stroked up and down those long fingers with his own. Spock returned the gesture, sending shivers down Jim's spine; he'd never realized before how sensitive his own fingers were. Even when Spock pulled away, the skin there still tingled from the touch.

Enough was enough. He dropped to his knees in front of Spock, not wanting to be misunderstood. He placed his hands on Spock's hips and slowly got to work pulling Spock's trousers and underwear down, always checking his face. While his expression didn't really change, he didn't stop Jim either; what he did do, was to start stroking Jim's face again. When the garments finally lay on the floor, Spock sat down on the edge of the bed, his back as straight as always, his hand still stroking Jim's jaw.

Either this part of Spock's anatomy was human or Vulcans weren't very different. The skin looked a bit thicker, and greener, but that was all. A small grin crept across Jim's features. He took Spock's hand and guided it to his mouth; he breathed out over the index finger, before closing his lips over it and running his tongue slowly over the fingertip. He placed his other hand on Spock's thigh. He could feel the Vulcan's already fast pulse had increased dramatically, which made Jim's grin widen further.

He placed both his hands on Spock's legs and started running his fingers gently over the skin there, slowly increasing the pressure. Then he inched forward on his knees and wetted his lips generously.

"No," Spock said softly.

Jim snapped his head up.

"You would not derive any enjoyment from that act unless we used a condom."

Some alien bodily fluids could be dangerous to human health, he knew that, but that wasn't exactly what Spock had said.

"This is a taste issue? If so, let me make up my own mind?" he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

He was sure that if Vulcans rolled their eyes, that's what Spock would have done; instead he raised an eyebrow.

Jim hesitated. They could stop now, laugh it all off and forget about it—he could do that, and it might be for the best. But … for Spock to allow him this far … how his lips had quivered when he'd extended his fingers to him … he looked up into those dark brown eyes and just knew that they both needed this.

He leant down and took him into his mouth. There was no bad taste, but his tongue felt like it was on fire. Quickly he drew back. No, not fire, ice! It felt a bit like he'd put an ice cube into his mouth, but the sensation wasn't going away, it was just getting worse.

"Feel, so … cold," he said.

He stuck his tongue out and touched it with his fingers—it didn't feel cold to touch.

Spock was definitely laughing at him, if only with his eyes. "I will get you some water."

"Stay here, it's not that bad."

He had to repress a shiver. It wasn't actually cold in his quarters, he told himself.

"It is a chemical which interferes with the temperature sensors on your tongue."

"Oh that's just great."

Jim wiped his tongue on his shirt sleeve; it didn't help. Well, he'd been warned, hadn't he? The sensation reminded him of extremely spicy food, except somehow it was the opposite—cold rather than hot.

He could deal with hot chilies, he even liked them. He could manage cold chilies, too, couldn't he? After all this, Spock was almost soft again. With long, determined licks he explored the tip and used his hands to stroke up and down his length.

"Jim, you do not have to prove yourself to me."

The biting cold was hurting his tongue, but he forced himself to ignore the pain and explore more. His fingers were meanwhile telling him that Spock felt hot to touch. It was an odd feeling, his senses in such conflict-it wasn't pleasant, not by a long shot, but … it was this kind of novel, fresh experience that had always drawn Jim to alien sex—that, and the challenge of it.

He came back up again for a few gulps of air and to give his tongue a break, all the while keeping up the pressure with longer, harder strokes of his hand. "Call me a masochist, Spock, but I could get used to this."

Spock placed both his hands on the edge of the bed, gripping it firmly. Jim knew he had to be careful to keep his eyes glued to Spock's face to judge his reactions, in case he did anything that was uncomfortable for Spock. There really wasn't much there for Jim to know what Spock enjoyed, so he stuck to the basics. He wanted it to be good for Spock, he wanted it to be mind-blowing, but for the moment he'd content himself with simply not messing up.

That Spock trusted him this much, this obvious sign that the deep trust he was feeling for Spock ran both ways caused Jim's body to flush hot. The faith Spock was placing in him really was the most powerful aphrodisiac he'd ever encountered.

Spock's brown eyes were large and his gaze as intense as the point of a dagger. His mouth opened slightly as his breathing became more labored and that was all the warning Jim got. He swallowed everything Spock gave him. Being able to bring him to orgasm felt fucking amazing.

He watched as Spock's breathing slowly returned to normal; the Vulcan's dark gaze still focused completely on him, as if nothing else in the room existed at all.

Jim leant heavily on Spock's thighs, pushed himself up off the floor and wrapped his arms around himself to stop himself from shivering. Immediately, Spock's hand shot up to Jim's hip and gripped him firmly, undid the fastenings of Jim's trousers, pulled them down and did the same to his underwear. He was relieved at this eagerness because he really needed warming up just now.

Spock knelt down on the floor in front of him and Jim thought he couldn't be any more aroused—the sight of Spock reaching out for him and touching him there ... a glimpse of Spock's tongue, shooting out from between those velvety lips, visible for just a second ... Jim moaned loudly as Spock's lips closed around his cock. He griped the hair at the back of Spock's head, more to steady himself than anything else. The maddeningly precise pace Spock was setting was driving him crazy, making him want more, so he pushed his hips into the action.

He felt his shoulders tighten, then the rest of his body, as he came. Spock slowed, releasing him, before he moved away.

He guided Jim around to the bed and let him flop unceremoniously onto his back- Jim lay there panting, looking up at the ceiling. He worked to breathe normally again. Wow, he felt good, so warm and relaxed-he could fall asleep right now.

"Spock?"

He looked up. The Vulcan was standing at the foot of the narrow bed, with his back to him, pulling up his trousers.

Shit—this wasn't good. He felt exposed and swung himself up into a sitting position to pull his own clothes back on. He worked as slowly as he could, straightening out every crease in his uniform. When he wasn't able to use that as an excuse anymore he forced himself to look at Spock. The alien's face was perfectly composed as always, as if nothing had happened between them at all. His hands clasped firmly behind his back.

Jim squared his jaw. "Regret it already, do you?"

"Regret is an illogical emotion."

He felt his stomach drop. "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy this as much as I did. Then again, I guess enjoying something is also illogical?"

Jim could feel the distance between them growing. "I'm sorry." He smiled ruefully. "You know, usually it's me trying to make a quick getaway rather than staying for the night, not the other way around. Guess I don't like being given a spoon of my own medicine."

He straightened his back. "You simply want to make it clear that this meant nothing."

Spock's eyes flicked to the floor and then back to Jim's. He stepped forward, right into Jim's personal space. With one hand he reached up to stroke through the blond hair, with the other he touched Jim's lips. This close, Spock's eyes looked so big.

"It is true that I wish to return to my own quarters for the night."

"And?"

Spock didn't reply, just continued to run his hands through his hair gently. Was he being cruel to Spock by asking for some verbal confirmation, when the guy was already showing him he'd misunderstood the situation? Damn their cultural differences for trying to ruin their friendship or … whatever it had turned into now. For all he knew he might have inadvertently slighted Spock too.

Jim reached out tentatively to stroke Spock's cheek before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Spock stopped stroking his hair, letting his arm fall back to his side. Then he felt the long, slender fingers curl into the palm of his right hand-the Vulcan kiss.

He sighed gently in relief.