Stir Me Up

Spock is fascinated by Jim's response to a particular "spot". VERY M-rated and also NSFW, guys, before you plunge into this. HA, didn't think it was going to be ALL fluff and shmluff, did you? Set one month after Nelaya, for propriety's sake.

"Ahh!"

Jim was shocked at the sound of his own voice, pitched higher than he was used to hearing from himself. He covered his mouth automatically, staring down at Spock with wide eyes. Spock seemed as surprised as he was, lifting his face to blink at Jim.

Then, comprehension dawning slowly on his face, he bent his head and kissed the spot again, just inside Jim's thigh in the curve between his leg and hip. Jim screwed his eyes shut, another shuddering moan threatening to spill out at the white flare of pleasure that radiated from the inch of flesh.

"Fascinating," he thought he heard Spock mutter, his breath and lips ghosting over the damn spot again and sending Jim into another sky high loop.

"Stop that," Jim panted when his mind floated back down, his toes curling into the sheets. He patted clumsily at Spock's head, trying to tug him back up into a less dangerous position. "Seriously."

Spock gave him a calculating glance, eyebrow flicking upward in amusement, then deliberately pressed his mouth against Jim's skin, scraping his teeth ever so lightly and-

"Shit, stop, don't you dare stop," Jim babbled, his chest arching off the bed in shock. He didn't even know he had a spot like that, and naturally Spock would be the first to find it. And he was damn good at exploiting it, Jim had to admit.

"Why?" Spock asked plaintively, sounding truly curious, and Jim grappled for an answer in his completely disoriented mind.

"Because...because it feels too damn good," he blurted, then wished he hadn't. He knew that look in Spock's eyes. It was the look he gave his samples in the lab, or the newest thing Scotty managed to cobble together out of bolts and screws in his free time. It was a scientific look, and Jim found that it doubled as an utterly terrifying look when applied to his lower regions.

"I was not aware that this was a particularly erogenous region for humans," Spock said slowly, the wheels spinning so fast in his mind that Jim could almost hear them go into warp.

"Yeah, well, neither was I!" Jim snapped, anxiety making him twitchy. "Stop looking at me like that." Like you're going to eat me or something.

"Fascinating," Spock repeated.

"No, Spock, it's not fascinating!" Jim countered frantically. "What the hell are you doing now?" Spock's hands were gripping his thighs, pushing them farther apart so he could gain better access. Jim flinched as he felt a rough tongue scrape over his skin, every nerve igniting as Spock caught the thin skin between his teeth and bit-

"Shit," Jim forced out through clenched teeth. He was achingly hard again, and the fact that Spock's mouth was so close and he couldn't decide where it would feel best was driving him insane. "S-Spock, please." He didn't know what he was begging for anymore, he wanted Spock to swallow him down, to keep doing what he was doing to that ridiculously sensitive spot, to fill him and mark him and pound him senseless into the bed.

Some of that must have transferred in part through their physical contact, because now Spock's unfortunately agile tongue was moving down farther, tracing the curve of muscle around the dip of his thigh. He pressed his face deeper into Jim as he moved, his hair just brushing Jim's solid arousal, and Jim's hands fisted desperately into the sheets at the tantalizing touch.

"Come on," he panted, trying to lift his head up to get a look at what Spock was doing, but finding himself pinned to the mattress by sheer, maddening sensation.

Spock grunted impatiently, his hands tightening and lifting Jim's hips off the mattress, spreading his legs almost painfully open. Jim groaned when Spock's tongue found his entrance, probing the tight ring of muscle experimentally. A rough swipe had Jim arching off the bed, trying to move closer and pull away at the same time. "Uh, Spock," he gasped, the tight heat building in his abdomen pulsing warningly.

The tip of Spock's tongue pushed into him, and Jim bucked involuntarily. "Shit!" He plucked helplessly at Spock's hair, trying to find purchase in the severe hairstyle. "Please, Spock, I need-I need..."

Spock moved a hand around to the small of Jim's back, flipping him easily over onto his stomach. Jim raised his hips eagerly, muffling his groans in a pillow as Spock spread him out, bracing himself against Jim's hips.

Jim thrust back hard as soon as he felt Spock nudging at his entrance, a choked cry spilling into the pillow as he felt himself suddenly filled to the brim. Behind him, he heard a low, incoherent curse, Spock's hands suddenly digging painfully into his hips. Through waves of hazy pleasure and want, Jim felt the flicker of satisfaction he always did when he managed to push Spock into spouting Vulcan.

"Move," he commanded, when he could do more than gasp breathlessly.

Spock made a sound that was part exasperation and part amusement, and pulled back ever so slowly, wringing a flurry of half-formed curses from Jim as he clawed at the pillow and tried not to lose his mind. The thrust back in was equally slow, the slide past his prostate too painfully pleasurable to endure. Jim rocked back to meet Spock impatiently, then growled when Spock pushed him down by a hand on the dip of his spine, pressing his belly closer to the mattress to keep him still.

"Control yourself," Spock chided mildly, his voice only slightly strained. For some reason, this irked Jim more than the reprimand, and he wriggled with increased frustration beneath Spock.

"Move, Spock," he all but whined, thrusting helplessly against the mattress. The friction of the sheets alleviated some of the discomfort, but he needed more. "Please."

"Please?" Spock pushed deeper in, Jim groaning until he ran out of air.

"Are you….really….going to do this right now?" Jim panted, barely able to think straight at this point. Spock was hot and full inside him, every movement sending arcs of white pleasure sparking straight to his brain.

"What do you want, Jim?" Spock prompted. Jim flinched when he felt a hand reach beneath him, grasping the base of his arousal and squeezing gently.

"G-God….Spock, please-"

"What is it?"

To hell with this, Jim thought. "I want you," he gasped. "I want you, Spock, please-uhh!" He grunted when Spock thrust hard into him, finally settling into a real tempo. His hand countered his movements, the off rhythm sending all sorts of disorienting feelings tingling up Jim's spine. He wasn't able to make much noise, barely able to breathe. He was feeling, all over his body, every inch of his skin exposed and burning.

Spock flipped him over onto his back, hoisting his legs up to his chest and pressing deeper into Jim with every thrust. Jim reached up instinctively, hands fumbling over Spock's chest and shoulders. He settled with a hand at the back of Spock's neck, straining upwards to press his panting mouth against Spock's.

Spock's free hand was sliding down his chest, fingertips pressing over his flexing abdomen. His thumb found the curve between taut thigh and pelvis and ground into the spot, simultaneously angling a thrust just right-

Jim came with a strangled groan, head falling back onto the mattress as liquid heat spilled over Spock's hand and splattered his stomach. He felt Spock thrusting through the aftershocks, his body jerking from heightened sensitivity. He clenched down automatically, exhaling in a jerky sigh when Spock stiffened above him, a slightly voiced grunt and a tightening of his fingers into already bruising flesh the only indication of his release.

Jim rolled over gingerly onto his side as soon as Spock pulled out, grimacing at the warm stickiness between his thighs. He usually didn't like Spock coming inside-it was so damn messy-but, well, he hadn't exactly been in a state of mind to protest.

He felt the mattress dip as Spock quietly slipped off, then a distant bustling from the bathroom. Spock returned with a wet cloth, his movements impossibly gentle as he cleaned Jim off. The cloth brushed over the spot, and Jim shivered wearily.

"Stop that, you'll rile me up again," he teased, flipping over onto his back and grabbing Spock's wrist. The Vulcan's face and shoulders were flushed light green, pupils still blown wide. He stretched out willingly on his side at Jim's insistence, shifting his head closer on the single pillow until his face pressed against Jim's shoulder.

Jim hummed contentedly, weaving his fingers through Spock's in a loose clasp. Love you, he thought, concentrating on the feel of the words rather than their sound.

A distinct air of amusement drifted through the transparent link. You've gotten better.

A/N: Back to T-rating tomorrow, folks. You've gotten your treat, haha.