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Spock sits at his station, allowing his mind to drift as he stares out into open space. He is thinking, of course, about Jim. Though the past few weeks had been too busy to allow for any substantial intimate encounters, Spock has enjoyed watching Jim fulfill his role as captain. His captain - always so brave, so kind, so capable. He thinks back to their many difficult missions over the last days, and of the deep, warm admiration he felt watching Jim lead the crew through it all.
Normally, Spock is better about keeping his private life from intruding on his duty. But recently, it has been more and more difficult to keep his mind from wandering during his more uneventful shifts; specifically, from wandering to Jim. Jim, doling out orders at the beginning of a mission; Jim, climbing a tree to rescue a little girl’s cat on the last class M planet they visited; Jim, diffusing the strained tension at a diplomatic dinner with a joke and a boyish smile. As he loses himself in these recollections, Spock suddenly feels a gush of slick leave his body. It’s immediately uncomfortable, but Spock has long since given up on trying to understand his own body. As one of the only Human-Vulcan hybrids in recorded history, there is very little scientific material available to explain the strange quirks of his body, and eventually he decided that stubbornly ignoring any unexplainable sensations was easier than worrying himself over them. This is a new sensation, to feel himself producing slick at a time other than immediately before or during sexual intercourse, and it troubles and confuses him.
Gingerly Spock rises, and comes to parade rest beside the captain’s chair.
“Captain, if I may be excused?” He says quietly, hoping, illogically, that no one else would hear.
Jim looks up at him in concern and surprise, but he answers nearly without thinking.
“Of course, Commander,” he says, but as he does, his mind reaches for Spock’s through their bond.
Are you alright?
Yes, thyla, Spock replies, I am - tired.
Spock knows he is a terrible liar, especially when it comes to Jim, but he hopes Jim will let it rest until they are alone together. Jim gives him a small nod, and Spock walks briskly to the turbolift.
Jim watches Spock walk away stiffly, more awkward than usual, and runs his finger over his lip. What could be so wrong with Spock that he would request to leave the bridge only a few minutes before their shift was over? If anything, Jim knows, Spock is much more likely to put his own comfort and safety aside for the good of the ship. The short time to the shift change passes impossibly slowly, as Jim worries himself into a state of agitation.
Finally the shift ends, and Jim makes for his quarters as fast as he can without breaking into a full-on sprint. He opens the door to Spock’s room, too impatient to knock, and as the door closes behind him he sees him, naked from the waist down, holding a washcloth in one hand and a pair of underwear in the other.
“Spock,” he says, in that soft, breathless way of his, “what’s wrong?”
“I… don’t know” Spock says, and Jim can see how painful it is for him to admit. But once he does, his reserves seem to fall away, and he gives Jim a look so full of shame and desperation that it nearly makes Jim cry. He walks towards Spock, gently taking the fabric from his hands and putting them aside.
“You are aware,” Spock says, “that during intercourse, my body produces a substance similar to that of a human female when aroused.”
“Oh, I know,” Jim says jokingly, with a little twinkle in his eye, hoping to make Spock feel more at ease. Spock rolls his eyes, but Jim can tell that his strategy worked, and Spock is at least a little bit more relaxed.
“Recently,” He continues, “I have been experiencing this phenomenon outside of sexual situations, and I am unsure what is causing this reaction.” His face is flushed as he finishes, unused to discussing his own body so openly.
“Well, that doesn’t seem too strange,” Jim replies gently, “from what I know of Human women, they can, I guess, ‘get wet’ so to speak,” he stammers, quickly realizing that he was not at all prepared for the nature of this conversation, “at times other than just during intercourse.”
“Really?” Spock says, looking skeptical but intrigued
“Well, I'm no expert, but in my experience, it can happen just from getting excited. Sexually excited, I mean.”
“And this can occur with no physical stimulation?”
“Yes, in a state of heightened arousal, a simple fantasy can cause that kind of reaction.” Jim replies, feeling hopeful that this is actually helping Spock, and not confusing him further. “What were you thinking about when it happened?”
He watches Spock conjure up the memories, and sees a blush rise in his cheeks.
“I was thinking of you, t’hy’la.” he says quietly, struggling to get the words out.
“Really,” Jim says, hoping he doesn't look as smug as he feels, “then why don’t you let me take a look under the hood, do some research, see if I can't gather some data to support our hypothesis?”
Spock gives a little huff of annoyance, but he allows Jim to guide him over to his desk, sitting on top of it as Jim goes to his knees. He spreads Spock's legs, petting his thighs like he’s trying to calm a startled horse. Spock squirms as Jim takes a good hard look at his sheath, puffy and wet with arousal. Jim wastes no time diving right in, licking a stripe up Spock's opening and moaning at the wet heat of it. Spock squirms, pulling at Jim's hair. It seems he can't decide if he wants to pull Jim away, or hold him right where he is.
“Jim, you don't have to do this…” Spock says, but he refuses to let up.
Jim has always prided himself on getting his female partners as wet as possible, usually through his current methods, and usually very successfully. Spock doesn’t taste like a woman, at least no woman Jim has ever been with. He tastes sweet and Spock-like, a flavor Jim can’t describe but has become intimately familiar with. He continues to lick and suck at Spock's sheath, opening him up, until he feels the tip of Spock's lok pressing against his tongue, begging to come out. His fra’ls have emerged as well, twining around Jim's ear and petting his cheek, leaving slimy trails in their wake. Finally he pulls back, watching Spock's chest heave as he breathes heavily, absently petting Jim's hair. He stands up, pressing into the space between Spock's legs, allowing Spock to grind his wet sheath against his clothed leg. They both lean in at the same time, lips meeting in a hungry kiss as Spock tastes himself on Jim's tongue. They continue to grind themselves against each other until Jim stops them, stepping back to remove his own ruined pants as he watches Spock with lust-filled eyes.
“Turn around,” he says, and Spock obliges immediately, folding himself over the edge of the desk and looking back at Jim over his shoulder, silently begging him to come closer. Jim does, stroking himself until he’s fully hard, and presses his chest against Spock's back. Spock rests his head back against Jim's shoulder, relishing in the feeling of giving himself up to his captain. Jim presses the head of his thick cock to his sheath, rubbing against it until Spock's lok fully everts, letting out a large gush of slick as it does. Spock whines in embarrassment, feeling the fluid drip down his thighs, as Jim reaches a hand around to collect the slick between his legs and apply it to his own cock. He mouths at Spock's neck and strokes his lok slowly as he presses against Spock's sheath, finally entering him when Spock lets out a strained and barely audible please.
As Jim fucks into him, building up a steady rhythm, Spock cranes his neck and pulls at Jim’s head to capture his lips in an awkward but passionate kiss, which devolves into simply breathing into each other’s mouths as Jim fucks him harder, harder. Spock can hear the wet squelching of their union and he wants to be embarrassed, wants to be ashamed, but he can’t. He's so turned on, and it’s been so long since Jim has had him like this, that Spock has no choice but to abandon himself to pleasure. As Jim's thrusts grow more frantic, Spock's fra’ls venture out to capture Jim's balls, squeezing and playing with them as they both hurtle towards their orgasm. Spock cries out as he comes, more slick dripping down his legs as he does so. Jim bites down on his neck as he comes inside Spock, kissing the spot tenderly as the world slowly comes back into focus.
“Jim, you will leave a mark,” Spock chastises, threading their fingers together as he leans back against Jim’s strong, firm chest.
“You like it,” Jim says, and they both know that he does, even if he’ll never admit it.