Author's Notes: And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the Plus One! Oh, plus 1, how I sweet and dirty you are. Anyway, this is it. I hope you enjoyed the 5 teachers Kirk banged and the one that banged him!
Sex is below. Again, like before, I do not consider this explicit, but you might. So be careful! If you've made it this far, you'll be fine.
Pairing: Kirk/OFC, Kirk/Pike (sort of), Kirk/Spock (This part contains Kirk/Spock slash...which is my OTP...so you know.)
Rating: M for sexual situations and language.
Disclaimer: Seriously? Not mine. Never will be. If it was, Jim and Spock would do this more often.
6. Jim learns that he should really listen to his First Officer, but finds that the reasons not to are far more convincing.
Spock is pissed. Jim could hear hints of anger in his voice when they'd gotten back. He can feel it in the way Spock's fingers are digging (quite painfully) into the bruise on his hip. He winces. The Vulcan simply tightens his grip and thrust minutely harder just once.
"If you had listened to me when I was informing the landing party of the cultural differences between Humans and the Balitians, perhaps you would not have been thrown into a table," Spock says into Jim's ear.
"Yeah," he replies somewhat breathlessly, "perhaps."
Spock must not have liked that answer because he pulls out slowly and pushes back in just as slowly. Jim's about ready to start crying. It's been nearly a half hour of this slow, torturous fucking and it's driving him crazy. He knows he screwed up the mission, but he would prefer Spock beating the shit out him to this. He whimpers at another excruciatingly slow thrust.
"God, Spock, just fuck me," he whines as he begins to writhe restlessly.
"I do not believe you deserve it, Jim," Spock replies coolly.
"Please?" Oh, how Uhura would laugh at how pathetic her captain sounds.
"You must promise you will listen," Spock says having stopped all his movements.
"Yes! God, yes! I promise! I promise! Yes!" Jim shouts as he finally gets what he's been wanting since they got back to the ship.
He loves Spock's cock. It's exactly what he needs, what he always needs. He tells his partner so in breathy whispers. Spock might have smirked, but his face is buried in Jim's hair and there's no way to be sure. And, oh! This thrust is perfect! It's angled just right and it's going to hit – NO!
"Dammit! You did that on purpose!" Jim wails, panting, and pushing his hips back, shifting to get that perfect angle back.
"If you are referring to the fact that I am purposely avoiding your prostate, then yes, I did do that on purpose." Spock is out of breath and Jim finds a strange satisfaction in that.
"But I promised!" Jim gasps.
"I did not believe you."
"Oh, damn it! Come on, Spock! I'll listen next time. I swear. I promise. Just-" Jim is cut off by the searing, delicious, wonderful feeling of his prostate being thrust directly into. He dissolves into a moaning, panting, whining, incoherent mass of what might have once been a Starfleet captain. But Spock is right there with him, breathing heavily into his ear.
When it's over and they're both sticky and the room smells like sweat and semen, Jim is half asleep with an arm slung over Spock's waist.
"Jim, you must start listening to me." Vulcans really know how to ruin the afterglow.
"I will. Don't worry," he replies sleepily.
"I am serious. Your decision to consistently disregard the information I give you is highly illogical. There is no guarantee that Doctor McCoy or I will be able to assist you in a dire situation." If he didn't know better, he would say that Spock was worried about him.
"I promise." But as Jim drifts off to sleep he can't quite remember what he's supposed to be promising or why.
