"…Sheath me…" the haggard plea for contact cut Jim's heart into pieces. Why had Spock hidden from him? Was Pon Farr really so shameful that Spock would rather try to meditate it away or die before coming to Jim for help? Was it really so dangerous for a human…for Jim? Feeling the strength of the truly alien fingers pressing into his hips, on the verge of being painful, Jim knew that the fever Spock was suffering certainly had the potential to be so, but it could have been prevented. He'd had the misfortune of reading a report sent to Bones a few months after the Narada Crisis. It was how he first learned of Pon Farr, the Vulcan mating cycle, which in itself was nothing more than a heightened mating drive. It was the Plak Tow that was dangerous, a relentless fever that completely stripped Vulcans of their logic…their very identity. It wasn't supposed to be this way, of course, but with so many Vulcans having lost their mates, there had been a few rare instances where those suffering from the blood fever had died, quite painfully and quite violently, choosing to lock themselves away rather than seek another mate.
Jim bent forward, taking Spock's head in his hand and stroking the sweating brow with a tender caress of his thumbs, "Ssshhh," he breathed against parted, panting lips, "I'll take care of you, I promise." Fearful brown eyes stared back at him, full of pain and desperation while Spock continued to hold onto his conscious self by a thread. Jim shook his head, a comforting smile gracing his lips as he sat up and removed Spock's hands from his waist, "Can you follow my lead? Hmm? Can you let me bring you relief?"
The Vulcan's answer was to ball his hands at his sides, fisting them into the sheets and nodding his head slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed loudly around his trepidation. He could feel baser instincts rising to take over, his skin on fire as all higher levels of thought began receding to the back of his consciousness. When he felt a cool hand wrap gingerly around his organ, pumping slowly, the urge to throw Jim to the floor and make the human give him what he wanted spiked within but he did not acquiesce. No, he heard his own voice echo within his mind, he…is not…to be harmed. Must control…so…cool…touch…ah…soft…more…touch…
Jim could tell that Spock was fading fast as he pulled the Vulcan's cock to an angle that would allow him to ease quickly down upon it. "That's it," Jim soothed as the head breeched the first ring of muscle, "you're doing so good." A breathy moan escaped past his lips as the double ridges rubbed over the second ring of muscle and against the walls of his channel. He'd not yet gone this far with Spock, fearing that when his ever-stoic, tightly controlled First regained his memories, intercourse would be far too much to forgive. Now was not to time to think of it though, and Jim pushed his thoughts aside to give his full attention to bringing Spock the relief…the pleasure he so needed…so very well deserved.
By the time the Vulcan was fully seated inside of him, Jim could feel Spock trembling with need and decided it would probably best to make this first round as quick and relieving as possible. With that goal in mind, Jim leaned back, impaled, and placed his hands on Spock's knees, rolling his hips forward and moaning at the pressure the position put on his prostate. The Vulcan's reaction was to throw his eyes open and feast on the image of his mate, riding him… surrendering himself in the most primal of ways. Jim's head was thrown back as he moved, sliding his ass up down the length of the Vulcan's shaft, rotating his hips on every down thrust, his chest heaving with wanton pants, cock hard and rubbing against the hot skin of Spock's abdomen. The very small portion of Spock that was still aware of himself, wanted to tell Jim how beautiful he was, how warm, how loved…what came out was little more than a lustful growl.
"What was that?" Jim smirked, meeting Spock's feral gaze, "You want it harder?" He thrust down with force, causing them both to moan loudly, "Faster?" He did it again, three times in quick succession, following up with one long, slow pull then three more hard, fast thrusts. He then bent forward and forced their mouths together in a hungry kiss, sucking Spock's tongue into his mouth as he raised his hips, pulling Spock's cock almost all the way out before slamming down one final time and rolling his hips in a wide circle, pushing them both over the edge. Jim rode Spock's dick through their orgasms, loving how it throbbed within him, filling him full of hot, heavy cum until it was running down his balls and onto the mattress.
He could feel the remaining erection still inside him, but his legs were trembling too hard to maintain the rhythm he'd set prior to their climax. So, he pulled at Spock's shoulders and rolled them over, happily bearing the Vulcan's weight and warmth, noticing once again that his lover was restraining himself, probably wanting desperately to move but unsure that Jim was ready, "It's okay," he ran soothing hands up and own Spock's biceps. "You're so good…so hot and hard…" he thrust up from the bed in encouragement, taking his index and middle finger and brushing them lovingly over Spock's hard, copper nipples, "Don't stop, baby," his voice was a husky whisper. "I want to feel you."
The final thread of Spock's restraint fell away and he drove himself in and out of his T'hy'la's body, offered so freely, so selflessly that he could no longer resist. With a feral growl, he hooked an arm around one leg and the other around under Jim's shoulders, heaving the pliant human bodily to him—wanting, claiming, having, owning. He sank teeth into golden flesh, tasting the sweet of skin and sweat and blood—all that gave life to the beloved being panting and writhing beneath him. Cool human hands pressed into Spock's lower back, fingers sliding all the way down to the base of his ass and pulling Spock closer, further within and he was lost; Lost to illogic and heat and want and need—Lost to whispers of love and lust, cool touch of fingers and hands, sweet licks of tongue and nips of teeth—Lost to Jim and all his golden beauty, velvet voice, silken skin and human heart. With a long, deep push, Spock emptied himself into the depths of his lover as they clenched around him, thrusting slowly until at last his organ began to soften and Jim's entrance was overflowing with his essence.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it felt like they'd been fucking for hours—hard, Vulcan cock pumping in and out of him, sometimes slow and tender other times hard and desperate but every sensation welcome and so fucking good. When Spock finally collapsed, Jim was sticky, sweating and incapable of motion. He had found himself responding in record time to Spock's firm, but sensual dominance within the first five minutes of that second round, his prostate so thoroughly stimulated that he'd come four more times, twice for sure without any actual evidence, before Spock had finally fallen over. He let a breathy chuckle escape, it was official: his balls were completely depleted. In fact, he was completely depleted, but the feeling of sticky was starting to get to him and his stomach was growling with a vengeance. No, he needed a shower and food before he needed rest and with Spock temporarily sleeping, now was definitely the time.
Some time later, Jim's stomach was full and his body was clean. He peaked over at the rumpled bed to see if Spock had moved…nope. Deciding that clothes would only be a hindrance, Jim had been prancing around his cabin in nothing but a towel and slippers, cleaning the bed around Spock (removing as many 'wet spots' as possible), checking his communications from the brass, signing off on the few bits of paperwork that couldn't be delegated down the chain of command and finally, comming Bones to let him know that so far, so very, very good.
"Jim! Are you okay? Is it working? Any injuries? How's the hobgoblin holding up?" Bones had fired away the second a channel had opened between them.
"BooOOOooones," Jim had groaned, pinching his nose. "I'm fine, pretty sure it's working, I got bit…a little and Spock is asleep."
"Spock bit you?" Bone practically guffawed. Of course, everything took a back seat to Jim's minor bite wound.
"It was a love bite," Jim mumbled, embarrassed. Whatever happened between he and Spock during Pon Farr wasn't up for conversation. It was personal and Jim didn't want to share this piece of his lover—this time of them together—with anyone else.
McCoy, ever perceptive, seemed to catch onto Jim's reluctance, "Does it hurt? Do you need some pain killer?"
"Nah," Jim shook his head, smile returning as he thought of the moment Spock had claimed him—because Jim knew that's exactly what the Vulcan had been doing. No…it didn't hurt at all.
"Fine, just be sure to rub some antiseptic on it," McCoy grumbled.
"I will," Jim reassured.
They sat there, staring at one another as the silence grew steadily awkward. Jim coughed and looked away, "I should probably…uh…"
"Yeah, yeah," Bones was actually blushing, "You don't wanna, uh, he'll probably…uh…hell…you know."
"Right," Jim chuckled. "Talked to you later."
"Yeah…" Bones nodded. They both pressed the 'end transmission' button at the same time.
After the awkward call to Bones and a good twenty minutes of lounging in his chair—massage pad working the soreness out of his legs and lower back—Jim figured he'd better prepare himself for the next round and headed to the bathroom, noticing Spock stirring slightly as he grabbed up the prep kit the good doctor had given him. Better hurry, he thought.
Jim had lubed and loosened himself in record time—which basically meant faster than the first time—and was bent over the sink, washing his hands when hot arms encircled his waist, shocking him into looking up. His eyes caught Spock's hot gaze in the mirror as Vulcan lips sucked at his neck, ear and shoulder. Deciding it was probably best to just go with it, Jim braced his hands on the counter and leaned his head back, grinding his ass against the hardness pressing between his cheeks. Spock hummed his pleasure against Jim's neck as one hot hand twined into wheat-colored hair and gently, but firmly forced Jim forward over the sink, while the other slid between them, two fingers pressing into Jim's slick entrance.
"Ah!" Jim moaned thrusting back onto that Vulcan hand, loving the feel of Spock's hot fingers caressing him from the inside.
"Yes…" Spock hissed his first word in hours, as Jim's tight hole clenched around his digits. While he was still very much in the throes of Pon Farr, Spock had awakened feeling more lucid and considerably less uncomfortable and still not completely in control of his body. The throbbing of his organ was still insistent, but not painful as it had had been eight hours previous. Jim had saved him from the Plak Tow and even though Spock's body was still crying out for its own satisfaction, he was determined to use whatever bits of his sane self that remained present to bring Jim as much pleasure and gratification as possible. Looking into the mirror, his arousal grew tenfold at the picture they made. Jim's hands were braced where the counter top met the wall on either side, his strong, golden back taught as he was bent over, his head dipped low and hips thrusting back to fuck himself on Spock's fingers.
Jim was enjoying himself thoroughly, moaning and panting as Spock worked him, tuning him like a fine instrument until he was so ready to be played he was begging for it, cock hard and leaking where it hung between his spread legs. "Godammnit, Spock, fuck me!" No sooner had the words left his mouth, than the fingers inside him were withdrawn and Jim found himself pressed with his chest flat against the countertop, aroused Vulcan bending over him and pulling his head by a fistful of hair. Intense brown eyes, simmering devilishly into his own as he stared back at Spock's reflection, radiated such an intense lust that Jim could feel it in his balls as if it were his own—and hell, maybe it was. Green tinged cheek bones, large black pupils, disheveled brown hair and parting panting lips—Spock was the picture of sensuality and desire.
They were both watching the mirror when Spock slowly pushed inside; his mouth formed a silent O, mimicking Jim's own expression…sans the silence, of course. "Fuck yes," Jim crooned, singing his pleasure at being able to not only feel what Spock was doing but watch—God but they were a sight—Jim's golden skin pressing back against the softly flushed verdant hues of Spock's, their bodies moving in tandem, blue and brown eyes catching and blazing an all-consuming heat between them. Jim couldn't decide what he liked looking at more, Spock's open expression of wanton passion, the hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him to oblivion with long, firm pressure or the vision of Spock's shaft disappearing into his flushed ass as Vulcan hips rolled into him from behind.
There wasn't enough time to decide before he was being pulled—with impressive grace for a manically horny Vulcan—to the tiled floor. Jim was flipped onto his back, highly aroused lover panting above him, hands flying all over golden skin as if Spock couldn't decide where he wanted to touch more. With a style of diplomatic authority only a Starship Captain could command, Jim stroked wide, soothing circles over the spans of Spock's sides, his right hand taking time to linger over the pounding Vulcan heart with each sweep. Slowly, the hands grabbing and stroking Jim's own skin began to grow less and less frantic and more tender and deliberate. Soon, they were rocking against one another in a rhythm innate to all sentient, sensual beings.
This was not what Spock had intended, this mindless rutting upon the bathroom floor, but it felt so good… Being pressed against his T'hy'la, glorying the friction of his own firm, taut skin as it slid against the soft, comforting body beneath him, muscular legs wrapped around his hips, Jim's hand stroking their erections together and that beautiful mouth driving Spock mad, sucking and nibbling at the Vulcan's peeking nipples. If only he could articulate…control enough to make love to Jim as he truly wanted to, but he could scarcely grasp at the words flying around within his mind like photon torpedoes—love, cherish, mine—much less utter them coherently.
Spock made a sound between a groan and a sob, stilling their bodies' motions, Jim's hand flying soothingly to the Vulcan's face to stroke lovingly at a lightly stubbled jaw, pained brown eyes staring back at him helplessly. "What is it, Spock?" Jim's voice was soft with concern, "Did I hurt you…did I pull too hard?"
His hands were batted away when Spock shook his head in frustration, before dropping it to the juncture of Jim's neck, Vulcan shoulders slumping in defeat. How could he show Jim what he wanted? How could he make him understand? Being cognizant, in part, but having that part supplanted by illogic and desperation was driving him insane. His rational self was clear and present but scarcely more than a voyeur and at war with the dominant animal side of his Vulcan nature. Strong, embracing arms soothed him as calming hands ran up and down the length of his spine, stroking and caressing Spock's sore muscles, making him purr in appreciation.
"It's okay," Jim's voice was even and rational, steadying Spock with every word. "You don't need words to show me what you want." The Captain then scooted them across the floor, displaying that Kirkian determination as the man was still quite prone and bearing the full weight of a bedraggled but unpredictable Vulcan. Lifting a leg and using his toe to tap in a code, Jim activated a preset bath program for the tub. Spock had never used the actual bathtub to wash, preferring sonic and efficiency, but he had heard Jim fill it upon occasion, usually after a particularly stressful mission or conference with the admiralty. Hints of sandalwood and jasmine began to drift in the air around them and it helped to sooth some of the tension from Spock's mind. "Why don't we take a nice hot bath and…I'll guess what it is you want me to do, hmm? Doesn't that sound nice?" Spock found himself agreeing with his body's motions for the first time since dragging Jim onto the floor as he nodded his assent into his lover's shoulder.
"Good." Jim breathed against a pointed ear, "Let me up and I'll get us settled in, okay?" Jim chuckled slightly as Spock disentangled himself; his Pon Farr-ridden Vulcan had gone from crazed dominance to docile obedience instantly. Talk about hormonal—no wonder the Vulcans hated talking about the mating cycle—it was like female PMS on acid. Jim could tell that behind the mindless sex-drive, Spock was in there watching helplessly as his sexual needs and physiology overrode his logic and rationale. And there was something that Spock—rational Spock—wanted from this sexathon, and damn if he wasn't determined to find out what it was. If he could do anything to satisfy the base needs of the Vulcan's body as well as the emotional needs of the person within, Jim would make it happen.
Figuring Spock would want to be on the bottom, for easier access, he motioned for the Vulcan to climb in first. When his currently acquiescent First Officer hesitated, Jim simply shrugged and eased himself down into the water. If they needed to switch positions later, it wouldn't be that difficult to do so, he decided. He offered a hand to Spock, who took it immediately, coming to sit in the human's lap, wrapping strong legs around Jim's middle, their still half-hard cocks floating between them, pleasantly slipping and sliding against one another. The water was sensual as it was soothing, and soon Spock was rubbing his body against Jim's, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as their mouths exchanged loving, intermittent kisses.
Yes, Spock thought, feeling Jim's erection accidently slip between his cheeks, brushing up against the yearning pucker of his virgin hole. When he ground down enthusiastically, preventing his mate from adjusting the position of his phallus, Jim regarded him with interest before giving an experimental thrust, the head of his penis nudging just so against his opening. A needy moan escaped his lips as Spock threw his head back and returned the thrust with wanton desperation. When his gaze finally returned to his mate, those deep blue eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree.
Jim could feel his heart pounding in anticipation. He had figured out within the first few moments of this impromptu Pon Farr, that it was supposed to be shared pleasure between mates, but he never considered the option of Spock not wanting to dominate every encounter. Holy shit, don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up. He took a steadying breath, dragging tantalizing fingers from the base of the Vulcan's neck, down his spine and into the cleft between his sculpted mounds, starting a slow circling motion around the bud of Spock's opening. "Are you sure?" He asked, using his other hand to press a command into the shower replicator for hair conditioner—a little known wonder in the art of shower masturbation.
He received his answer in the form of a searing kiss and a few more downward thrusts against the throbbing head of his cock. "Okay, okay," Jim soothed with a chuckle, "Knock that off or I'm gonna come before I can get inside." At his warning, Spock stilled all motion in his lower body, focusing instead on showering human neck and ears with sucking kisses, running fingers through wet, silky hair. Jim coated his hands with the conditioner. "I want you kneel around me, so that your ass is out of the water, okay?"
Spock complied immediately, unwinding his legs and kneeling, a knee on either side of Jim's thighs and his hands bracing themselves on Jim's shoulders. "Perfect," Jim praised, lubricated fingers immediately seeking out Spock's entrance, coating cleft and hole with the slick substance, fingers sliding and circling, pressing and retreating until Spock's organ was throbbing painfully with anticipation. Jim seemed to notice and, with a smirk, bent his head to engulf the entire length, one human hand firm against Spock's lower back and the other sliding a single finger past the tight pucker of his ass.
Swollen lips parted to yelp an exalted, "Ah!" followed by a string of Vulcan praise and devotion as cool human flesh both surrounded and penetrated his own, driving him into a frenzy. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the vision of Jim's mouth, encasing his cock, head bobbing with enthusiasm as he sucked Spock with heated fervor. He bit his bottom lip and began to thrust shallowly, between mouth and hand, fingers threading through Jim's hair as he guided his lover's head back and forth.
When a second finger joined the first, thrusting and scissoring, Spock felt flames spreading across his skin from that singular point of contact. Then, Jim pressed down onto something buried deep within and Spock was climaxing, eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim drank his seed greedily, throat squeezing around the double-ridged head of his cock at every swallow. When Jim pulled his mouth away, three fingers now thrusting into Spock's opening, the Vulcan's penis was still erect and begging for more.
"I could drink you all day," Jim breathed huskily into the curly hairs surrounding his lover's organ. He licked his lips, taking time to appreciate the taste of Spock on his tongue. He then slowly removed his fingers and gently guided his lover's slim hips toward his own. The tip of Jim's cock pressed against the Vulcan's loosened entrance, "I've wanted you for so long," he breathed, "I'm gonna make this good for you, I promise."
Spock seemed to understand as his lips curled upward in a small grin, brown eyes swimming with affection even though speech still seemed to elude him. Jim gasped softly when warm lips and tongue kissed apologetically over the bite mark on his shoulder. "Are you ready for me?" Jim asked, his cock prodding gently at Spock's twitching hole. He had been expecting a nod or maybe another hissed 'yes.' Instead, Jim found himself engulfed in hot, hungry heat as his cock was buried to the hilt in one long, hard thrust. They both moaned in unison, reveling at the different but equally thrilling sensations.
Spock's desire to be filled, to be claimed by Jim, bloomed to new heights as he drove himself downward, engulfing his mate's erection and shouting in rapture at the feel of it throbbing against his inner walls. He was panting like a beast in heat when his eyes met with glazed blue orbs, swimming with a passion that rivaled his own. Slowly, deliberately, Spock raised a hand to Jim's meldpoints, the instinct to join them overwhelming. Some part of his conscious self broke through, staying the hand that hovered just millimeters above his T'hy'la's temple.
Jim made the final decision for him, pulling the straining hand to his face, "Do it," he breathed, gripping Spock's waist with his free hand and circling his hips, rotating his cock against the walls of his lover's clenching channel. Five hot finger tips pressed against the cool skin of his face and then he was transported into stifling heat, surrounded by glowing embers of a long smoldering desire, Spock's consciousness reaching out to him from beyond the swirling smoke.
Jim…Spock's voice echoed through his mind and Jim spun around in the field of ash and glowing coals, what he assumed to be a visual representation of the Pon Farr.
Spock, he thought, searching for the source of that controlled monotone. Spock, where are you? I want to see you.
I am here, the Vulcan's voice sounded from behind and Jim found himself running toward the mental manifestation of Spock's projected form.
He wrapped his arms around the stoic figure, clinging to him with every fiber of his being. This was the Spock that he knew, the one that had disappeared behind unquenchable desire. Are you alright? I found you in your room and then—
I am cognizant of everything, merely unable to control. I have been…watching, Spock's cheeks colored pleasantly.
Jim suddenly felt uncomfortable, was this really what Spock wanted? Do you like what you see? He asked self-consciously.
In answer, two elegant hands reached for Jim's own and they were being transported, floating through memories, all from Spock's point of view. Secret glances and thoughts as they worked on the bridge, during meetings and away missions, illogical hopes and desires whenever blue eyes met with his own across a chess board or that velvet voice sounded over the intercom in his quarters…the visceral joy of regaining his identity to discover that the one he loved most, had longed to hold for so long, loved him in return. Then, anxiety flooded Jim's mind with an overwhelming sense of wrong as heat and fire began to gather within Spock's mind and body, fear so strong it was nearly debilitating. Echoes of 'too soon, too soon' and 'must control. Must not harm' reverberated around them as images of Spock holding a sobbing Jim in his quarters, torn between telling Jim the truth—that yes, he loved him, and sparing him the agony of suffering an unpredictable, unnatural Pon Farr.
Then, they were in Jim's bed wrapped up in warmth; Spock's head clearer than it had been in days and the mix of joy and fear as they came together and flames began to subside. Suddenly, Jim was watching them as they were currently, entwined in the bathtub, foreheads pressed together and Jim buried deep within Spock's body, hips undulating softy. He could feel their combined pleasure ripping through them both and he moaned within the meld. It was as if Jim had suddenly become his own penis, feeling the walls of Spock's channel squeezed around him tightly, caressing, warming, gripping and tugging. As clearly as he could feel the sensations of his own body, Jim could also feel himself spread, stretched and so very full, wanting more…faster…harder…deeper…wanting to bind their bodies and minds for all time.
Yes, Jim replied to Spock's unspoken desire, his voice haggard with the weight of his conviction that this was right, that is was meant to be—joining with the beloved being in his arms and mind. Suddenly, the images began to swirl, faster and faster until all they became was a blur of purple and incandescent blue. Jim laughed in wonder as he reached out a hand, threading his fingers through the smoky swirling tendrils surrounding them. Spock then placed a hand against Jim's cheek, drawing him into a deep, loving kiss and everything stopped.
Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched…
The tendrils began to braid and entwine, glowing brighter and brighter until a single golden strand stretched endlessly in either direction, as far as the eye could see. The both stared in wonder at their creation before their consciousnesses were thrust outside of the meld and into the external world. Blue eyes opened to meet with lucid brown eyes, blown wide with desire and primal passion that caused Jim's heart to stutter in his chest. Their lips crushed together in a desperate attempt to bind their bodies as closely as their minds.
Hands and fingers clutched and caressed, lips and tongues nipped and sucked and hips and legs moved together in a frenzied climb toward an indiscernible precipice. Spock rode Jim's cock with unbridled enthusiasm, completely in control and yet unrepentantly unleashed. Driving his hips into Jim's thrusts, pulling at golden hair as cool lips and tongue sucked and licked at his nipples, and Spock had never felt more alive. He pulled his new bondmate's head back by his hair and stifled Jim's moan with lips and tongue, licking into wet heat and drinking greedily of all that was offered. Warm water swirled and sloshed around them, rising over the basin and slapping onto the tiled floor.
"Oh, God, ride me, Spock…fuck," Jim moaned, his cock throbbing so hard it was almost painful as his testicles began to tighten. The sight of his stoic First Officer, his reserved Vulcan friend, riding his cock with untamed passion, moaning and whispering what were probably obscenities in his native tongue was something Jim knew he would never forget…always treasure. He increased the pressure of his fist where it circled Spock's shaft and pulled from base to ridges, twisting his wrist just so and watched as the beloved being atop him came completely undone.
White ropes of semen spurt forth onto Jim's hand and chest as he watched Spock throw his head back, hips working even harder now as the ring and walls of his hole began to clench and spasm around Jim's hard, thrusting length until it was finally too much. Jim came with a long, rapturous shout, driving his hips into Spock's ass as he filled the Vulcan with warm, thick ropes of semen. Somehow, they managed to collapse onto their sides, facing each other and panting as they lay in the water, arms and legs entangled in a bodily embrace.