Happy Birthday,
Jim
TOS K/S, [NC17]
In honour of the Entity T'Pat's birth'day, I present the following: 'tis but a PWP, for
all of us who sometimes must miss the presence of our mates, yet never are they gone from
our thoughts...
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Jim Kirk scrawled his signature on yet another message padd, marked Urgent, Captain, Eyes
Only, (which he knew damn well no-one would ever read once he did turn it in) and tossed
it onto the outgoing pile. Damn, but he was bored. He was bored, he was tired, he had a
sore neck -- and shift-change wasn't for four hours yet and even then, Spock was scheduled
to be in the lab all night long. Oh, and it was his birthday, and so far not one person
had said *anything* to him about it. Not even his Vulcan lover.
Mind you, he hadn't seen Spock yet today, so they hadn't had the chance to speak in
private -- but *still*. Sighing heavily, feeling lonesome and much put-upon, Jim picked up
another so-called urgent StarFleet memo padd and returned to work.
The door hissed open and he glance over, to see a tall, lean blue-clad form saunter
through it, raising an eyebrow in answer to his delighted smile. "Spock! I thought
you were going to be busy all day!"
The barest hint of a smile, at the corners of the Vulcan's mouth and eyes. "I may
well be, t'hy'la. But I believe that you require my presence *here*, at the moment."
Mystified but pleased anyway, Jim leaned back for a moment and stretched till his neck
popped, taking his time, already in a better mood than he had been. "Mmm, yes. Yes,
First Officer, I think that I do." He pushed the remaining paperwork aside.
"Come here, lover -- I need a kiss."
"As I thought." And suddenly his arms were full of very warm, firm, Vulcan
flesh. His face was cradled in Spock's warm hands, and the lips which could look so stern
and prim on duty were ravishing his mouth -- mmm, yeah, just the way he liked it. Spock's
tongue was slightly rough, almost like a cat's, and the taste of him just seemed to get
better the longer they were together. Oh, yes, this was definitely an improvement.
Large strong hands caressed the length of his body, drew the two of them more firmly
together. That wonderful deep voice murmured in his ear. "I could feel your
discontent, Jim. I thought that perhaps I could best be of assistance here for a time,
rather than my lab."
Jim had to wiggle a bit; his trousers were definitely fitting tighter than they had been a
few minutes ago. And it felt *wonderful*. That lean hard body pressed against him never
failed to arouse him anew. He returned the hug, slid his hands around to grasp his
favourite pair of firm tight buns. "God you feel good. I am *so* glad to see
you!"
A warm rough tongue delicately licked the curve of his left ear, sending a stream of
delicious shivers straight down Jim's spine to his suddenly eager cock. "Mmm,"
Spock purred. "As I, you. It has been some time; I did not wish to wait any longer to
see you. I believe the proper phrase is, 'I have missed you'."
Jim wriggled again. His trousers were definitely feeling tight, now. "Oh
yeah..." he sighed, feeling those long slender arms encircle him, lift his to his
feet. Now he could pull Spock hard against him, feel their cocks rub together through the
thin black Fleet-issue trousers, feel an answering shudder of delight course through his
lover's body. Suddenly he was swung up into Spock's arms, carried across the room and set
down again on the edge of his bed. In a single graceful movement Spock knelt in front of
him and put a hand on each of his knees. "What...?"
"Ssh. Do not speak, Jim. Simply lie back; let yourself feel. This is what you are to
me, my mate; this is what you do to me. This is for you."
Again Jim tried to speak and was silenced with a kiss, gentle at first but soon growing
hot and hungry. He moaned, let himself fall back down to rest on his elbows, shivered as
Spock's long fingers reached for the clasp of his pants. "Ohh..." The sleek dark
head bent forward between his legs; warm clever fingers eased him from that too-tight
confinement, stroked the eagerly hardening length of him, caressing his balls and the
tender flesh behind them. The tip of a hot pointed tongue touched the head of his cock,
licking delicately at the drop of fluid welling there. A bone-deep shudder of pure
pleasure shook him, leaving him harder and hungrier than ever in its wake.
Large strong hands grasped his hips firmly, holding him still, as each of his balls was
licked at and sucked on, nibbled at carefully by sharp white teeth. The delicate skin
between his scrotum and his cock was likewise nipped and tasted, and finally Spock opened
up his mouth and sucked him deep inside, swirling his tongue around the base of Jim's
cock, letting his teeth just barely graze the head of it before diving down again.
Alternating between sucking and licking, the Vulcan drove his mate ever higher, ever
further. Wave after wave of pleasure flooded them both, reverberating through their bond,
washing away fatigue, frustration -- leaving only their bond, their pleasure, the tingling
electricity of Jim's slowly gathering climax...
Jim could feel his balls beginning to tighten and draw upwards; Spock's hands on his hips
seemed made of purest fire, his mouth of hot wet electric velvet, his tongue a ribbon of
heated silk. The dark head lifted off him for a moment; black eyes met hazel in
undisguised love and unashamed affection. Then he was once more drawn within; deep, deep,
till he felt the head of his cock bump the back of Spock's throat -- and then Spock
swallowed around him, again and again, tight muscles rippling, squeezing, sucking at the
very root of his being. Oh, *yeah*, was all he had time to think before his body convulsed
with pleasure. His head fell back against the bedspread; his balls emptying, his cock
jolting, he shot his hot seed down his mate's eager throat again and again, until he was
utterly empty and totally sated. Boneless, melted, completely relaxed but for the last
delicate quivers of pleasure...
Only then did he open his eyes, to see that pointed green tongue lick the last shining
drops of cum from a green-flushed mouth. A smile flickered about Spock's face as he stood,
straightening his clothes, reaching down to adjust his own unsatisfied hardness.
"Wh-- what about you?" Jim finally managed to gasp.
"What about me? Why, that is for you to decide, later this evening, t'hy'la. I am
saving this for you." And now that was definitely a smile, the small feline curl of
lip that Spock showed only to him, and only when they were alone together. "Consider
it... proper motivation, for the rest of your day, Jim. I shall be thinking of you, as I
work in the lab." The Vulcan leaned down, bestowed one last heated and hungry kiss on
his still-quivering mate, surveyed the wanton picture of the captain of the finest ship in
the fleet sprawled on his bed with his pants at half-mast, his cock wet and glistening,
his eyelids heavy, his lips swollen by kisses, his face flushed with pleasure. "Mmm.
Yes. You look -- delectable, my mate. I look forward to this evening. Until then..."
Spock turned as if to leave, then turned back one last time. "Happy birthday,
Jim."
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Happy birthday, cousin T'Pat. May it be a pleasant and prosperous one.
Greywolf the Wanderer |