Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Cadet James T. Kirk sat with his black boots up on the desk in front of him, a beat-up edition of This Side of Paradise in his lap. He had shown up to class early, feet dragging him from his dorm room through the halls to the state-of-the-art classroom he had barely looked up at. The adolescent journey of the fictitious Amory Blaine had kept him enraptured all morning and still did now, as the flood of cadets entered the class and filed in. He looked up as a shadow cast over the page he was currently on.
Kirk raised his eyes to the figure above him. Lean figure, blue tunic, high cheekbones, a sleek crop of shiny black hair, brown eyes… pointed eyebrows and pointed ears. This must be a Vulcan. He had seen them before on his PADD but did not expect them to look so human in the flesh. The eyes were soulful with indescribable depth, but the Vulcan cadet also had a look of – was that judgement? – plastered on his face. Kirk played up his usual hostility and sighed.
‘Can I help you?’ he said with an air of haughtiness.
‘You can help me by telling me what you are doing reading 20th Century literary fiction in a Diplomacy class. Are you sure you are in the right classroom, cadet?’ The Vulcan uttered in a smooth deep voice.
‘Wait – you’re familiar with F. Scott Fitzgerald?’
‘I am well-versed in Terran literature, but that is beside the point, cadet. Please take your boots off the desk and take out your PADD, we are about to begin the lesson.’
‘And what in the stars gives you the right to tell me what to do?’ Kirk raised his voice.
The Vulcan raised a single eyebrow in – what was that – amusement and walked to the front of the class.
Kirk gulped as he witnessed the Vulcan pick up the interactive pen and write his name at the top of the display: ‘PROF. SPOCK’. He shifted in his seat to sit ramrod straight and winced, shoving his book into his satchel and scrambling for his PADD. A few cadets in the seats in front were looking round with mockery in their eyes – how had he been so stupid? It was because this Vulcan, ‘Mr. Spock’, had looked so young, but then they typically did live longer, he had once read, so this could explain the youthful features and muscular tone. Muscular tone!? Why was he now thinking about his muscles? Maybe as most professors were in their advanced years, having lived experience to familiarise themselves with the subjects taught at Starfleet. Oh Gods, he was off to a hellish start…
‘Greetings cadets, I am Professor Spock, and I will be your tutor this semester. This is DIPL250: Non-Traditional Situations in Diplomacy. This course provides advanced training in how to deal with non-traditional situations on a starship or base. Cadet Kirk, can you give me an example of a non-traditional situation that could potentially occur on an away mission?’ The glint in his eye looked almost smug. Almost.
Wait – ‘How the fuck does he know my name?’ Jim thought aloud by accident.
‘Please cadet, save the expletives, I have, of course, memorised all of my students’ names. Now, please, answer the question.’
‘Of course,’ he thought, ‘of course he had memorised all of their names, and records, oh fuck… what was the question? And how did he even hear me muttering? Those pointy ears must do more than just look cool. Okay, non-traditional situations on a starship or base…’ He shook his head into focus.
‘Uh, an example of non-traditional situations would be… dealing with a pre-warp civilisation… a-and navigating how to stick to the prime directive in such situations.’ He stuttered out finally.
‘And what is the prime directive, Cadet Kirk?’
‘The principle of non-interference with the natural development of an alien species, sir.’ Jim now said with more confidence.
‘Very good, cadet, now moving onto more specific situations, please navigate to the History of Diplomacy section in the course module on your PADDs…’
The lesson flew by without further embarrassment, and Jim found himself strangely enraptured by the Vulcan Spock. Even without emotion, he was compelling. Passionate, even. He seemed to be a fountain of knowledge and Jim felt himself growing hot with jealousy over the man who seemed wrinkle-free and yet mature in ways beyond his imagination. His jealousy led to the usual bitterness and by the end of class, his thoughts had drifted again. Something shook him out of his reverie.
‘Cadet Kirk? Please give your affirmation.’
‘What?’ Jim said dumbly.
‘I asked if you would mind staying at the end of class so that I can have a discussion with you.’
‘OH,’ Jim started, ‘Err yes. Yes, sir. Mr. Spock.’ His usual confident facade back.
Kirk made his way to the front of the class to stand in front of the taller Vulcan male.
‘Cadet Kirk-’ Spock started.
‘Please, call me Jim.’
‘Why should I call you Jim?’
‘It’s my name…’
‘Your name is James, not Jim.’ Spock corrected.
‘Jesus, no, I mean it’s a nickname, short for James.’
‘Jim is not short for James, perhaps Jay or Jame would be better suited.’
‘Ugh, never mind, call me whatever you want!’ Jim huffed.
‘Certainly. Cadet James-’ Jim rolled his eyes; it would do. ‘I have read your record, and it shows you have previously been reluctant to study the core materials, along with an overall rebellious attitude toward authoritative figures. I hope you do now realise that you are no longer in a Terran high school environment, that you now have a responsibility to uphold the reputation of Starfleet, and you will not squander your time in my class. I expect dedication and attentiveness in my lessons from all cadets, whatever background they may have.’
Wait – background? Was he insulting his farming family now? Or the fact that he had to wear his brother’s hand-me-downs? Jim grew flustered at the lecture from Professor Spock.
‘Yes, I do realise you have expectations, Mr. Spock, but I would like to object that you cannot learn everything about a person from the Starfleet records.’
‘Indeed? And what is it you wish me to know about you that would not show on Starfleet official records?’
He couldn’t believe he was about to open up to this man he barely knew but something made him say it without thinking:
‘Well, I wish to be Captain of the Enterprise someday, for a start. I wish to be top of the class and graduate from Starfleet with honours. I…’ he trailed off, thinking his revelation might sound ridiculous to the professor.
‘In that case, cadet, I believe it is time for you to focus on your studies more. Save the F. Scott Fitzgerald novels for weekends and only after you have finished memorising your core materials. If you succeed in these classes, you are on the right track for captaincy.’ Spock assured him.
Kirk couldn’t help but feel flustered and confused by the belief and special attention from the older man. Wait, he had to ask now, or he may never get another chance…
‘Professor Spock, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?’
‘I am 23.37 years old.’
‘Holy fuck! I mean, excuse me, but how the hell did you get to be a professor? You’re only 3 years older than me! That’s impossible!’ Jim’s plush lips hung open, shocked.
‘I studied.’ Spock said with a slight smirk.
Later in the mess hall, Jim sat at his usual table next to his best friend at the academy, Leonard McCoy, whom he lovingly gave the nickname ‘Bones’ as he was majoring in medicine. He was relaying to McCoy about the new super young and frustratingly anal Vulcan tutor that morning and all the embarrassment that ensued.
‘Did he look green to you?’
Of course, Bones was more interested in the biology of the Vulcan male than the story.
‘What?’ Jim asked.
‘Apparently Vulcans bleed green blood, and as it rises to the surface of their skin it makes them look green! Like real life aliens! I gotta see this guy for myself. Did he have the pointed ears and everything? How come I haven’t heard of him around campus…’
‘Yes, he had the pointed ears, and the pointed eyebrows, but no he did not look green. I think someone’s been feeding you xenophobic lies on that one, Bones.’
‘Nawh, look it says it right here in my Xenobiology 101 text!’ He got out his PADD and found the relevant section on Vulcans.
‘See here,’ Bones drawled in his Southern accent while reading aloud, ‘“The Vulcan species have a mysterious biology that human research has only recently started to uncover due to the Vulcan race’s predilection for privacy. Here is a brief overview: We know for a fact that their composition varies to a human’s in the following ways: The heart is located on the right side of the torso, between the ribs and the pelvis and it beats several hundred times per minute. Their blood is copper-based and is copper or rust coloured when deoxygenated in the veins, and green when oxygenated in the arteries. Therefore, the Vulcan species will appear green when blood rises to the surface in the blushing regions - as well as cuts, bruises and abrasions taking on a green tinge.” There, you see! Green guys just like in old alien cartoons!’
‘Huh, well I’ll be.’ Jim pondered for a moment. ‘Does it say anything about how they mate?’
Bones’ eyebrows shot up in the air as his face contorted into a wide grin. ‘Well, lemme read on… No, there are no known mating rituals and not much on the reproductive organs either, must be ‘cause of their private nature, they don’t wanna share such tawdry things with us humans. Why, may I ask, are you so interested in that aspect, Jimmy-boy?’
‘I was just thinking… If their blood is green, and if their biology is anything like a human’s, when a male becomes aroused, their reproductive organ fills with blood as it hardens…’
The cogs in McCoy’s mind turned.
‘Oh my God, Jim. You mean to say that Spock’s dick must be green?’ He burst out laughing, banging on the table and snorting loudly. Kirk, too, was delighted with his discovery.
‘Oh, Jimmy-boy, it’s times like these I am so grateful for your original thinking.’ he wheezed out, tears of laughter in his eyes.
Jim Kirk sat in his usual seat at the back of the class for his next Non-Traditional Situations in Diplomacy class. This time, he had studied and sat to attention with his PADD poised. He had even brought a few physical textbooks to stack on his desk, preferring the traditional feel of the pages, much to his classmates’ confusion. It was rather archaic to be reading physical print in the 23rd Century but it was something he had inherited from his mother.
Even though he planned to impress Spock more this time, he would still be seated at the very back row of desks… he still had some semblance of a cool outcast reputation to uphold.
The Vulcan professor entered the class 5 minutes early to set up. He did not look up at the cadets that were already seated. His cat-like form confidently strode in and started to bend over the classroom computer to open his notes. Kirk’s fellow cadets seemed to take no notice of the Vulcan, chattering amongst themselves, but Kirk couldn’t help but trace the smooth lines of the man with his eyes. Starting at the shiny crop of hair, he wondered how soft it would be to touch, so different from his own product-filled short blonde hair that he spent far too much time on this morning making it look ‘effortlessly cool’ (There was, in fact, a lot of effort that went into it). His eyes then traced the smooth lines of his back, the straight spine, the lithe but toned arms, and further down his gaze went. The black trousers clung to his firm, slightly rounded ass. Just as he fixed his gaze, Spock bent even deeper to pick up the interactive pen from behind the computer, the fabric stretching more. Oh, Gods…
‘Greetings, class. I hope everyone has had a chance to look over the assigned material for this week’s seminar.’ The professor said with a pointed look at Kirk. Kirk winked in response, his usual charming persona taking over his controls. ‘Did I just wink at a Starfleet professor?’ He thought to himself as he internally cringed, looking down at his PADD. Spock continued the lecture portion as normal, engaging the class, even making them laugh once or twice – inhabiting an errant strain of sarcasm and sass he must have picked up from reading Earth literature, Kirk surmised.
Jim Kirk had not only read and memorised this week’s sections of text, he had also read next week’s too, skipping ahead, his quick reading and thirst for knowledge taking over. So, at every junction, when there was a query for the class, Kirk nonchalantly raised his hand after a moment of pause wherein he feigned contemplation, secretly knowing all the answers immediately. He didn’t want to seem too dorky to the fellow cadets, after all, or like a teacher’s pet. ‘Although I wouldn’t mind being a pet to this particular teacher…’ an intrusive thought leapt into his mind which he had to battle away. ‘It must just be the fact he’s an authoritative figure, and such a young one, at that. Or it could be envy! Yes, that was it. Plain and simple green-eyed monster… Green – monster – cock!’ he let out a laugh at this which he transformed into a loud cough, startling the class. They were currently in a quiet reading and reflection time, answering the prompts left by Spock on the board on their own PADDs, although Kirk had already answered all of them in depth and was left with spare time on his hands.
McCoy was currently in bed with an actual common cough and cold, probably snoozing or watching old Spaghetti Westerns, or even reading up on his medical texts. Kirk decided to message him and find out.
‘Bones - hope you’re doing okay good buddy’
Incoming message: Meh, not too bad now. How’s class? You get in any more trouble this week?
‘Nah, not so much. Although Professor Anal Retentive has been picking on me for all the answers today’ Kirk lied, he secretly enjoyed when Prof. Spock called on him in class.
Incoming message: Professor Anal Retentive? More like Professor Greencock
Kirk burst out laughing at that, no longer able to control his delight. Sometimes he and McCoy really did share a brain cell, and that brain cell tended to have a rather childish sense of humour.
Incoming image:
It was all too much for Kirk, who bit down on his fist, attempting to stifle his laughter, but the majority of the class had now turned to face him, including the Professor. ‘Oh, fuck,’ he thought.
‘Mr. Kirk, did you wish to share with the fellow cadets what is so humorous about the General Orders and Regulations of The United Federation of Planets?’
‘No, sir. I am sorry, sir. I was just thinking of something else. I have already submitted my answers to your questions on the board.’ Kirk tried to explain.
‘Indeed, cadet. And I have looked over your answers just now. You made a total of 13 syntax errors and 2 glaring factual errors that could result in the death of yourself and your crew during my proposed hypothetical peace mission. I suggest you use the last 20 minutes of class time to correct these and refrain from distracting your fellow classmates.’
‘Crap’, he thought, and left Bones on read. He would have to congratulate him later for ruining his one good streak in class.
As the class filed out later, Jim was the last to leave.
‘Oh, cadet?’ He heard from behind him.
‘Here we go,’ Jim thought, pivoting on his boot heel.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘I wanted to have a word with you about your behaviour in class today, and your subsequent answers.’
‘Of course, Mr. Spock.’ He approached the older man carefully.
‘I hope that these outbursts do not continue to interrupt my lessons. Furthermore, where your answers today showed knowledge and creativity, I believe your self-assuredness has clouded your judgement for recollecting some of the more basic protocols, leading to your errors. I would like to propose private tutoring to help with your focus and meeting your goals.’
Kirk was astounded. He wasn’t getting the usual lecture from this tutor, where so many others had before, but an actual interest in his development as a cadet… and an offer of private tutoring? Wait-
‘Private tutoring? Who with?’
‘Myself, of course. I would hope my Vulcan discipline would inspire you to focus, and we can even branch out to other subjects you may be struggling with.’
Kirk tried to read his professor’s face but all he could find was stoic emotionless features with all-too-human eyes. Discipline… his brain short-circuited.
‘Why would you do this for me?’ He questioned the man, sounding sceptical.
‘I believe you have the potential to make a great Starfleet Captain, one day.’ Spock said without hesitation.
Kirk softened and smiled a genuine smile.
‘Well, thank you, sir. I would definitely be open to, er, your private tutoring.’
‘Shall we agree for you to visit my quarters every Wednesday evening at 2100 hours for a 2 hour duration?’
‘Wednesday nights, yeah, sure I can make that!’ He tried not to sound too eager, but an invite to a Vulcan’s quarters? He couldn’t wait to tell Bones the exciting news. Today was a Tuesday so he only had one more day to get through. He was planning to visit Bones with a bowl of soup from the replicator, as his mother used to do when Jim was sick, except she would actually cook the soup from scratch with fresh ingredients from the farm.
‘Just make sure he doesn’t whip out his green cock during the private lesson.’ McCoy said with a shit-eating grin.
‘Ha-ha, very funny, you know that picture could have got me in a lot of trouble, asshole.’
‘Did anyone else see it?’
‘No, luckily, I managed to charm my way out of another sticky situation, as per.’
‘And charm your way into the professor’s private quarters! Where is he based, anyway?’
‘I don’t know, he sent me the coordinates…’ Kirk bought up a bird’s eye view on his map. ‘Looks like some kind of cottage just off campus? That can’t be right.’ He blinked at his screen. Most professors had apartments in their block near campus, not a full blown detached cottage.
‘That makes sense. I asked around and it turns out Professor Greencock is some genius son of a Vulcan diplomat! I bet Starfleet are giving him star treatment, pardon the pun.’
Bones turned the strange old Spaghetti Western movie back on as Kirk’s mind drifted. He contemplated this Vulcan. He had never really been attracted to a different species before, apart from when he found himself on the kinkier side of the internet… but even then, he had never really been attracted to males before. Not that being straight or gay was even a thing in the 23rd Century, as most had accepted sexuality and gender as a spectrum, in any case. But Spock was so different from the girls he had usually had casual flings with in the past. Kirk was attractive, he knew that much, and the usual flirty women would approach him at bars around campus, much to McCoy’s chagrin. Kirk couldn’t help but stare when Spock was in the room though, and in this case, he was glad he was his professor so he actually had an excuse to stare. He could pretend to just be an attentive student. But checking out Spock’s ass as he bent over earlier?… and when he turned around, catching a glimpse of the outline of cock in the front of his trousers. Now, that had to be crossing some kind of line. Even if it was green, he didn’t think he would mind, although he would never admit this to McCoy. He was actually kind of curious about it, maybe more than just from a xenobiology standpoint. There were so many parts of Spock he had taken to staring at though, the long pianist fingers that seemed so skilful, the sharp hip bones that snaked as he walked his cat-like walk. The warm brown eyes and shapely pink lips, hard features like jutting cheekbones he wished to trace with his fingertips. Gods, the man was gorgeous. How was he only now realising? An intrusive thought entered his mind. Tomorrow he would be at the Vulcan’s quarters – he would probably be seated close enough to reach out and touch… One thing could lead to another, and the Vulcan could pin him to a wall, dominate him, pin his hands above his head and grind his bulge against his own.
He shook himself out of his reverie when he realised he actually did have his own bulge tenting the front of his pants now, and was feeling extremely hot and bothered. He thought unsexy thoughts and tried to focus on the movie until he was flaccid enough to stand and bid goodnight to Bones, who waved him off, still engrossed in the old film.
Back in his private dorm room, Jim slammed the door shut behind him and locked it, throwing himself onto the bed face first. ‘Gods, what is wrong with me?’ he thought. The bulge was back with a vengeance as he couldn’t keep the thoughts of Professor Spock at bay now. He groaned and ground his erection down into the mattress, humping the bed sheets like a horny teenager. He hadn’t been this pent up in years. He flipped onto his back and whipped out his hard pink cock, already shiny with precum at the tip. He spat into his palm and slicked it over his cock, imagining it was Professor Spock’s hand on him, his deep voice whispering in his ears, an expert tongue tracing his neck. He thought of Spock’s strong looking arms, his ass… he wanted to get his tongue in there like he was eating out a woman, tasting his innermost depths, making the Vulcan squirm and working very un-Vulcan sounds out of him. He quickly came to just the image of Professor Spock’s face at the end, eyes gleaming with playfulness, eyebrow quirked. The release of all the pent-up frustrations of the day had him drifting off to sleep and he woke up at 2 A.M. still covered in dried semen and desperately needing a shower. Fuck, what was happening to him?