Work Text:
It’s past 21:00.
This fact isn’t particularly noteworthy to most. Evening is probably about all you need. Late evening, if you care to be specific.
For the past few months, 21:00 has become noteworthy to Jim, though. Every day on the Enterprise is a constant blur of activity for both the captain and his first officer, and as a result, the pair have to make a concentrated effort for free time alone with one another to indulge in their newfound relationship. It was easy to simply share the same space while performing other tasks, which they did often— but actually spending time focused on nothing but one another could be a frequent challenge with their hectic schedules. Barring any emergencies, setting down work around this time of evening was initially an unspoken agreement, and later a more formal one after one too many late nights had slipped through the cracks.
But it’s 21:34, and Spock is still at the desk, working on whatever damned report has had his attention for the entire night.
“Babe,” Kirk whines from their bed for the— well, he’s lost count of how many times at this point. “You were supposed to be done with that hours ago.”
“I had estimated completion would occur 41.5 minutes prior to now,” Spock corrects calmly. “However, Lieutenant Reed submitted the results of his analysis belatedly, and I still require time to review—“
“It’s not even an urgent report, Spock. You can finish it tomorrow.”
“Doing so would delay the lab’s capacity to begin new analyses tomorrow, which would result in underutilization of both equipment and officer time.”
With a groan, Jim forces himself upright, padding over to his boyfriend. When he comes to stand in front of the desk, Spock only offers him a brief, neutral glance.
“Can’t you at least take a break?”
“I do not desire to impede your ability to sleep by prolonging my work to a significantly later hour.”
Kirk waves him off. “You know I can sleep through anything.”
“That is factually incorrect—“
“Spock,” he sighs loudly. “What do I have to do to get you to put down that stupid PADD? Strip?”
Dark eyes glance back up at him. Spock raises a brow, but does not reply.
The corner of Jim’s lips curls up into a smirk. “Blow you?”
The Vulcan can feign neutrality all he wants, but past that slight hint of exasperation that colors his gaze, Kirk can see curiosity, too—
And just a little heat.
Jim leans forward, placing his palms on the desk’s surface. “Now that would make it pretty hard to finish your report.”
“It would not.”
A surprised laugh erupts from Kirk. “You really think that?”
“It is trivial for a Vulcan to compartmentalize physical sensation in order to redirect attention to another subject. That compartmentalization has the same effect regardless of the stimulation being pain or pleasure.”
Jim narrows his eyes, and that smirk curls wider. “I can get pretty stimulating,” he throws back. “You know that.”
When the captain licks his lips, brown eyes dip towards the movement.
Oh, this is gonna be too easy.
“How about a bet?” he ventures, tilting his head with a smile. “If I can break your focus in less than ten minutes, you have to quit working for the rest of the night. If I can’t, I won’t bother you until the report’s done.”
Spock’s brow inches higher.
“You are aware that you are making a ‘bet’ you cannot win?”
The captain huffs another short laugh. “I didn’t know Vulcans like trash talking.”
“I am merely stating—“
“Do we have a deal, or not?” Kirk crosses his arms, looking at him expectantly.
For a long beat, dark eyes hold his. Just barely, he can see that Spock’s pupils are more dilated than they were previously.
“You may try,” Spock answers placidly.
A cocky smile grows on the captain’s lips.
Oh, I am so going to make you regret that.
Without preamble, Kirk sinks to his knees, then crawls under his desk. He runs his hands up strong thighs, lingering for only a moment before reaching for the zipper.
“Start counting,” Jim chirps, the only warning he offers before taking his first officer’s cock in hand. With a hint of satisfaction, he notes that he’s already getting hard.
Then, because Kirk is nothing if not a show off, he wraps his lips around him and immediately takes him as deep as he can, hoping that the surprise of it might win that bet in record time. Even as the head of his dick pushes into his throat, however, Spock doesn’t so much as move a muscle.
Unlucky for him, Jim is just as stubborn as he is.
With one hand trailing Spock’s thigh in a lazy pattern, he grasps the base of his cock with the other, tugging slowly on what he can’t fit into his mouth. He bobs with the movement, dragging his tongue up the underside of his cock on each lift upwards, sucking hard enough that there’s a soft pop when he finally breaks away to tongue the sensitive skin just under a deep green head.
If the cock in his hand wasn’t now fully hard, he would have no other indication of Spock registering his presence at all.
Kirk releases him for a beat, then leans back in to ghost his tongue along the ridge just under the head of his cock, satisfied at the tiny twitch he gets in response.
As much as he’d love to worship him for hours, he needs to speed things along. And though it might not exactly be playing fair—
Well, Spock uses his touch telepathy against Jim all the damn time, so they can both be unfair together.
Taking him back into his mouth, he reaches down to unbutton his own pants, focusing on the sensation of his fingertips finally meeting his swollen clit, moaning softly as he rolls it between his fingers. He rocks his hips into his own hand, rubbing himself in slow circles with each rise and fall of his lips. When he moans again, he feels another soft twitch in his throat.
Then, he pushes his hand further, pressing his fingertips up against his very wet cunt.
Another twitch in his throat, harder this time. Kirk pulls up just enough to grin, then bobs downward again as he sinks his fingers into himself.
Wish my hand was yours, he projects, moaning around the dick in his mouth as he hooks his fingers forward. A thread of saliva dribbles past his lips, trailing down swollen ridges below. Wish it was your cock even more.
Although the Vulcan is still silent, Jim can see the tensing of his abdomen beneath his science tunic; feel how taut his thighs are.
Six minutes, fifty eight seconds, are the only words that return through hot skin.
Where’d your precision go? Kirk taunts back, grasping the base of his dick again to tug him lazily. His hand follows his mouth as he rises to suck at a leaking head, then falls again as he takes him back into his throat. When he sinks a third finger into himself, he focuses on the stretch of it, pushing to the knuckle and picturing that it’s the Vulcan’s cock buried in him instead.
Another twitch, hard enough to nearly make him gag.
Just as a smirk attempts to quirk at his rather preoccupied lips, the chirp of a communicator on the desk stills him completely.
For a beat, there is silence. Then, the communicator chirps again.
Too distracted to answer?
Another beat.
At last, there is movement above, followed by a perfectly steady, “Spock here.”
Blonde brows raise in surprise. He’s almost impressed enough to release him—
But as a member of the commander’s lab begins droning on about some draft or other, the temptation to be a brat is far greater than any desire to grant mercy.
He begins bobbing his head again, the movement painfully slow, teasing. Jim sucks just softly enough to keep the noise down, fingering himself at the same dragging pace, continuing to fantasize about those ridges in his throat digging into the walls of his cunt instead. The thought alone is enough to make himself clench around his fingers.
Love swallowing, he projects, but I love it more when you cum in me. Feels so good being full, having it drip down my thighs—
A hand snatches his hair without warning, tugging him promptly off of the dick that twitches hard in front of him once, twice, still connected to his lips by a strand of saliva. Fingers remain tight in his hair, keeping him just out of reach.
“Send any further revisions to me by the beginning of Alpha,” his boyfriend intones above him. “I will review them then. Spock out.”
A satisfied smirk curls over Kirk’s lips. The expression lasts only a second before the chair in front of him is pushed back and he’s dragged upwards by his tunic, then promptly manhandled onto the desk. Where he’s bent over it, a hand at the nape of his neck keeps him locked to the surface.
Jim’s cunt clenches again. Even as his dick throbs, he grins through a taunting “I win,” his voice slightly hoarse from having a cock shoved down his throat repeatedly.
“Brat,” is the only reply he receives on a deepened tone before the head of that cock presses into him, slick both with saliva and the Vulcan’s self lubrication. Sliding into a cunt that’s already dripping, Jim can already feel the side of his thighs getting wet.
The steady stretch of it is intense, driving his hand to grip the desk’s edge in front of him as he lets out an uneven groan. As Spock buries himself to the hilt, Kirk’s knuckles turn white.
Through panted breaths, Jim huffs, “And you love it.”
And he is shut up, in that ever-efficient manner, by his first officer beginning to snap his hips forward hard enough to rock the desk beneath the captain, his pace immediately punishing.
Jim hopes, for the both of their sake, that that communicator call was definitely ended. Otherwise, one of his crewmen would be getting more than an earful of their captain, considering the obscene moans that are ripped from him in response, the sound bordering on cries.
The hand that continues to pin him to the desk is only making that live wire of pleasure course hotter through him, never able to get enough of how fucking strong his boyfriend is, how effortlessly he can hold down a human without the slightest hint of exertion. The sensation is only amplified by the cock that slams into him; the ridges that drag past his g-spot at just the right angle, making him see stars. Through skin, he can feel the burning fire of Spock’s pleasure mingling with his own; the frenzy that drives the Vulcan to bury himself to the hilt again and again, his thrusts growing faster and less even as the edge approaches them both.
And because Kirk promised to push him right off that edge, he begs through the haze, Cum in me, cum in me, Spock, please—
The twitch of the cock buried in him is his only warning before it begins pulsing hard inside of him, causing him to lock up with a cry as he’s dragged right over with him. The euphoria mingling between their skin is blinding, overwhelming in combination with the hot seed that is quickly filling him, the sensation causing him to spasm around the Vulcan’s cock even after his own orgasm has exhausted itself.
Just as the pressure in his gut grows intense enough for his eyes to water, the Vulcan’s cock finally stills. For a long minute, the pair remain unmoving, the only sound in the room their panted breaths. As Spock recovers above him, Jim is content to linger in that fullness, utterly boneless against the desk below.
At last, when the Vulcan pulls out, a thick stream of cum begins dripping from the captain and rolling down his thighs, joining the mess that Spock had already made of him.
“See?” Jim breathes as he’s eased back up onto trembling legs. He turns in Spock’s grasp to grin up at him, a teasing glint to his gaze. “Way more fun than reports.”
Exasperation and affection mingle in dark eyes. With nothing more than a soft sigh, Spock leans down to catch his boyfriend in a slow, savored kiss.
You are challenging to resist.
Jim hums a soft, amused note against his lips.
Told you so.