[personal profile] gmtaslash
Title: 'This,' said Jim Kirk, 'is fucked up.'
Fandom: ST: XI (Kirk/Spock)
Authors: [personal profile] gmtaslash
Rating: R
Authors' Notes: This was originally a simple porn request, but then we were viciously savaged by the crack bunny. We feel we should warn for oodles of bathos. And for mansex, naturally. Lots and lots of it. Betaread by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] ansela_jonla.

Uhura makes no appearance in this. This is because we honestly couldn't figure out a way to include her and not completely screw-over the character, what with the canon relationship with Spock and all. We would like to make it clear that this in no way reflects upon Uhura, whom we love.


'This,' said Jim Kirk, 'is fucked up.'

'I concur,' said Spock. 'However, since we have embarked upon this unwise venture, might I suggest that satisfactory completion could be achieved faster if you would raise your left leg a fraction of an inch higher?'

'No, I mean, really fucked up, what the hell, you're grieving, man, we just got ridiculous promotions, plus you almost killed me, Nero almost killed me, hell, Bones and that stupid vaccine nearl - look, a shitload of people nearly killed me, I still feel my ribs pop when I walk, I'm your superior officer now-'

'Captain, if you were reluctant to pursue this course of action, perhaps your reasons should have been produced at the onset. I feel that perhaps you are conflicted.' Spock's voice was measured as always, but tiny pauses betrayed exactly how hard he was holding his control.

'Can't believe you even said yes, doesn't this count as emotional...?' Kirk was muttering now, breathing hard, pushing up to meet Spock as he did so. 'What was I thinking?'

'You are wrong if you believe Vulcans to be entirely devoid of emotion, Captain. On the contrary, we are capable of great emotion. We are simply adept at controlling it.' Spock ran a hand up Kirk's sweat-soaked side, ending by framing the captain's face with one long-fingered hand. 'And we are as subject to desire as any other humanoid race.'

Kirk was panting now, whining and sweating. 'How the fuck did we get here, man, how the fuck?'

'I think a more logical question, Captain,' said Spock, his own breathing sped up and harsh as he pushed down, trying to keep a rhythm despite Kirk's squirming and erratic responses, 'is, how do we get out?'

Kirk suddenly hitched himself higher, gasped 'there, God, there, please, Spock, I don't care what happens later but you can't leave me like this, there, please, stop talking. Please. Please,' and Spock yanked the captain closer to preserve the angle and did as he was told.

Afterwards, there was a gap of precisely two inches between them. Spock saw that as significant. The mottled mass that was Jim Kirk's torso, after hanging from and slamming into so many precipices, had a reddened handprint over the purple and yellow bruising.

'If you try and tell me you're still emotionally unfit for duty,' said Kirk, 'I'll have you locked in the brig. And then I'll take off. And then I'll let you out, and you'll have to be my first officer, because we'll be five years from home, baby, and who else am I going to have to raise his pointy eyebrow at me and not let me go on away missions? Because I bet you won't let me. Will you? Because you're anal-retentive about regulations that way.'

'This experiment will not be repeated,' said Spock, with the merest hint of a thoughtful frown. 'I feel it incumbent upon me to inform you of this.'

'Shit, Spock, I never said I wanted to marry you.' Kirk rolled over and grinned at Spock. 'Did I ever strike you as the monogamy type?'

'I suspect, Captain, that I never 'struck' you as someone who would indulge in casual sexual contact.'

'Y'never struck me as someone who'd throttle someone either, but there we go.' Kirk had his usual abrasive exterior well in place again. Spock got up and retrieved his uniform. To the trained observer, and Kirk prided himself on his observational powers even when thoroughly shagged out, he seemed to be a little distracted.

'See you on the bridge at 16:00,' said Kirk chirpily. Spock nodded and left.


'You know,' Kirk said breathlessly as he was pushed up against the turbolift wall with some force, 'I could've sworn you said we weren't doing this again.'

'Indeed, Captain.' Spock's voice was calm and logical as ever as he made short work of Kirk's trousers. 'However, you will note that our experiment of Thursday last differed markedly in several variables.'

'Such as?' Kirk gasped. It was already becoming a little difficult to think clearly; Spock's hand was really unnaturally warm around his cock.

'Principally, your blood alcohol content, although I also intend to investigate the effects of a standing position on your vocalisations.'

And that, Kirk couldn't help but admit, was unbelievably hot, if a little disturbing. What the hell, he decided, and joined in with gusto. He snaked a slightly sweaty hand up round Spock's neck, and pulled him close for a kiss. Not his best ever, perhaps - McCoy was right, the Vulcan really did have an impressive nose - but after an adjustment of angle of both head and hands, he was able to give his first officer a thorough kissing.

For a few moments, at least. Spock pulled back abruptly, although his hands showed no signs of ceasing motion or leaving the vicinity of Kirk's trousers. It was getting a little cramped in there, and he was considering maybe dropping them to his knees, dignity be damned, when Spock spoke.

'I must protest, captain.'

'Huh?' Kirk really wasn't sure he could get a sentence out.

'You are interfering with my variables.'

'Your - Spock, you've got your hand down my pants in a turbolift, and you're complaining about - what?'

'I have not yet factored the human art of kissing into my experiment. If you continue, the data collected will be useless. Today's focus is angle and incoherent vocalisation.'

'Useless, huh?' Kirk thrust his hips forward, and Spock obligingly increased the pace.

'For the purposes of scientific inquiry, yes.'

Which seemed as good a reason as any, to Kirk's mind, to shove his tongue in Spock's mouth again.


'Spock,' said Kirk, leaning against the wall in Spock's quarters and leafing through a handful of printouts. 'What are these?'

'Graphs, Captain,' replied Spock, peering around the door of the bathroom where he'd been busy getting out of the shower. 'I don't suppose there is any great point in my inquiring as to how you managed to access my private quarters without my permission?'

'I've got a whiz-kid physicist on my bridge who thinks the sun shines out my ass, Spock, how'd you think I got in here?'

'Ensign Chekov is responsible for your presence in my quarters?'

'S'not his fault, I did make it an order.' Kirk shrugged. 'Anyway, what exactly are these graphs of?'

'Research,' said Spock, in the Vulcan equivalent of an airy voice, which, so far as Kirk had been able to work out, was a voice entirely devoid of any emotion but slightly smugger and higher-pitched than normal. Kirk prided himself that he was learning how to read his first officer quite well, all things considered.


'Yes, into male human sexuality.'

Kirk looked at Spock, looked at the graphs again, and noted that the axes of the graphs had labels like 'volume of vocalisation,' 'coherence,' 'number of unfulfillable promises made,' and 'erraticness of thrusting.'

'You pointy-eared Vulcan bastard.'

'If you are going to resort to insults, Captain, please be kind enough to manufacture your own rather than resorting to recycling those of your Chief Medical Officer, whose grasp of the English language I find to be lacking in elegance.'

Kirk decided that there had been far too much talking gone on already, and crossed the room to take Spock into his arms.

'May I deduce from this that you are not averse to continuing research?' asked Spock, curling a hand around Kirk's neck.

'No, you can deduce from this that I'm horny,' said Kirk. 'And that I'm burning your graphs later.'

By this point Kirk had managed to manhandle Spock onto the bed and divest himself of his trousers.

'Captain, that would be counterproductive and necessitate the repetition of already-completed experiments.' Spock's voice increased in pitch yet higher when Kirk produced a two-thirds empty vial of standard-issue hypoallergenic biological lubricant.

There was the noise of what Kirk mentally referred to as the doorbell. Without thinking, because he'd found it was quite hard to be rational with a Vulcan sucking on your nipples and your fingers up his arse, Kirk automatically said 'Enter!'

Someone did.

Spock froze. Kirk froze. Chekov threw his hands up over his eyes and said something in Russian that Kirk was willing to bet probably translated as 'OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!'

'This isn't what it looks like,' Kirk managed to choke out. Chekov's expression was not immediately visible, obscured as it was by his hands, but he muttered disbelievingly.

'The captain is correct,' said Spock calmly. 'We are merely engaging in research.'


'Are you sure about this?'

'Absolutely, Captain.' Spock manoeuvred himself round behind the captain's chair in his usual genteel manner.

'But won't it - uh - affect the variables?' Kirk hazarded, doing his best to stay subtle. Quite why Spock wanted to have this discussion on the bridge was beyond him, and he could already see Ensign Chekov's ears turning a rather unhealthy looking shade of pink. Sulu was eyeing him in some confusion. Best to nip this in the bud.

'On the contrary, captain. I believe I have already collected sufficient data to fulfil the preliminary requirements of my experiment. It is now time to advance matters to a more complex level.'

Kirk spun round in the chair, and collided with the back of Spock's knees. Dammit, did he have to stand to close? And how was he supposed to formulate a rational and coherent response with the Vulcan's ass right there in front of him, at eye level and looking deliciously grope-worthy in his uniform trousers? 'Complex?' he repeated, attempting, and failing, to raise an eyebrow in query.

'I have prepared a brief proposal for the intended advanced stage, if you would care to peruse it,' Spock said, passing over a datapadd. Kirk took it somewhat hesitantly, wondering how the hell his first officer managed to keep a straight face at times like these. And as for how he managed not to blush, Kirk thought, glancing down at the proposal, complete with illustrated moving diagrams, in his hand. Hell, Kirk himself was almost blushing at some of the pictures, and he was pretty sure he hadn't done that since he was fourteen.

'I think,' he managed to say with what he thought was a creditably even voice, 'that you and I should have a brainstorming session about this later.' Hopefully that would head the Vulcan off at the pass.

Spock consulted another datapadd briefly before answering. 'Certainly, Captain. Fortunately our shift schedule places you and I both on what I believe you humans in your colourful idiom term the 'graveyard shift' this evening. Alone. I'm sure we will be able to discuss this at that time, provided no crisis interrupts us.'

Kirk tried very hard not to gulp.

Twelve hours later, and after some rather fitful sleep, he turned up on the bridge for the midnight shift. He sank into the chair, still appreciating its comfort and the fact that it was wide enough for him to drape himself in it, rather than having to sit up ram-rod straight.

A faint hiss behind him indicated Spock entering.

'Just you and me, eh Spock? How convenient that both senior officers have the graveyard together.'

'Yes. Organisation of the roster was clearly in our favour this week.'

'Amazingly, seeing as the person who organises the roster is you,' said Kirk, letting just a hint of reproach enter his voice.

'Have you read over my expanded research proposal, Captain?' asked Spock, leaving the science station he'd been tapping the screen of and walking down to Kirk's chair. 'I trust you are still keen to participate.'

Kirk cleared his throat. 'Yeah, about that.'

'You are unsatisfied with the outline I have prepared?'

'More just with the idea of an outline,' Kirk amended, sliding an arm round Spock's waist and pulling him down. 'It's not exactly spontaneous.'

'Interesting,' Spock said, reaching for his data padd with his free hand. The other was occupied underneath Kirk's uniform sweater. Really, he thought, Vulcans didn't waste any time. 'You would then prefer less stringent planning?'

'Well,' Kirk said, 'I like to be surprised, if that's what you mean.'

Spock took that moment to drop entirely into Kirk's lap and reach for his waistband matter-of-factly.

'What the hell?!'

'Unplanned sexual activity, Captain. I believe you were referring to it only a moment ago. We could check the ship's log of activity on the bridge if you'd like-'

'No! No. Computer, cease recording activity on the bridge and lock all doors.'

The computer made its processing noise and then told him calmly: 'Unable to comply.'

Spock's hand undoing Kirk's trousers meant that instead of the equally calm, measured 'Computer, state reasons,' he intended, Kirk was only able to gasp 'Why the fuck not?'

'Please restate question.'

'Captain,' said Spock, somehow not even slightly muffled despite having Kirk's ear actually in his mouth, 'I have taken measures to prevent you from doing these things.'

'What? Why?'

'Because I wish to test out your appreciation of the apparently quite common Human desire for an element of danger and discovery being incorporated into sexual situations. I did write this into the proposal.'

Kirk, who had had to put the datapadd down and have a wank before getting half-way through it, could not confirm or deny the truth of this, so he attempted a different argument. 'Yes, but I thought we were investigating - nngggg, yeah, do that again - spontaneity?'

'My extension of our research covers multivariate input, Captain,' said Spock reprovingly.


'Now this is more like it,' Kirk said in a low whisper.

'You find the engine room to be sexually arousing?' Spock asked, his attention focused on the contents of Kirk's trousers once more.

'No, I - ahh - I think you're confusing me with Scotty.'

'I have had regrettably little opportunity to investigate Mr Scott's deep appreciation for the warp nacelles,' Spock said, just a hint of regret in his tone. Possibly. Kirk wasn't sure. It could have been arousal, although Spock was remarkably good at hiding that. Except in the obvious way, of course. Like now, for example. Kirk was very aware of the bulge in Spock's trousers, and he reached out to stroke it.

'You make it sound so filthy,' he commented, distracted.

'I suspect, captain, that it is not my words that imply perverse sexual habits, but rather your own interpretation of them.'

There was the sound of a heavy tread on the decking, and suddenly Scotty's voice could be heard as if he were speaking into a voice-recorder.

'Routine inspection number 76382 of forward port quadrant section of engine-coolant pipes,' the engineer said, sounding mildly bored. 'Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott inspecting, cos I couldn't bloody spare anyone else.'

Kirk's breathing started to speed up. Spock almost grinned, which was to say that there was a minor elevation of one corner of his mouth, and dropped to his knees.

He was very lucky that Kirk had such stunning reflexes, really, because the resultant reflexive contortion the captain had to control might have ended with Spock getting a knee to his chin. Which would have been very bad, as it might have ended with him biting off a certain essential-to-the-functioning-of-the-captain portion of Kirk's anatomy, and Kirk was very sure that McCoy's reaction to being asked to reattach Kirk's wedding vegetables would be an unpleasant one.

As it was, Kirk reined himself in violently and bit his tongue to stifle the moan as Spock began to work.

' ... all plumbing functioning normally ...' droned Scotty's voice from around the corner.

Kirk could feel the blush rising up from his neck. Spock took the opportunity to employ a hint of teeth, an action that nearly caused Kirk to bite through his own lip.

' ... some minor abrasive damage caused by installation of uncalibrated closure-cog system during hurried last stages of ship's construction. No great issue, can be dealt with by application of standard lubrication ...'

The dirty jokes started crowding Kirk's head, he couldn't help it, and the need to laugh and also to moan was making him light-headed. Spock must have noticed this, because his instant reaction was to suck Kirk deeper.

The captain's head impacted with the upright pipe they were cuddled against.

Scotty's monologue paused. Then '... unusual knocking noise emanating from far corner. Investigating ...' The footsteps started up again, getting closer and closer, until '... have reached source- Ah.'

Scotty at least had the grace to turn the voice-recorder off before saying 'Uh, hello gentlemen ...'


'I have to admit, Captain,' said Spock, 'that although previously this particular human fantasy has never seemed even slightly logical, I can now see one particular advantage.'

'And what would that be?' said Kirk, gritting his teeth, although he was getting used to how Spock's calm tone affected him during their trysts.

'Why, the ease of accessibility,' replied Spock, hitching his skirt up a few more inches and pulling Kirk closer.

Kirk had answered his first officer's 'urgent' call from Sickbay at 00:00 hours half expecting (or definitely expecting, really, if he was honest) something kinky, but the sight of Spock in a (female) nurse's uniform and bent over a computer station had completely pole-axed him.

He didn't have the heart to tell the Vulcan that it was traditionally women who wore that kind of get-up. He didn't want to spoil Spock's evident triumph.

'I can't argue with that,' he said, pushing up and in a little further, just to hear the involuntary gasp. He wasn't entirely sure what Spock was in this for (surely the 'research' angle was bullshit?), but it was definitely his duty to make sure the experience wasn't totally repulsive.

'I sure hope you two were planning on sanitising that when you're done,' came a drawl from the open doorway, just as Kirk came.


'So, what are today's variables?' Kirk asked, settling back with a chirpy smile and resting his hands behind his head.

'I fear I will be unable to appraise you of them, Captain,' Spock said evenly, stepping around Kirk's chair and spinning it.

'Oh yeah?' Kirk tipped his head back and craned his neck, placing his first officer by sound alone. 'Why's that?'

'Because today's experiment involves the unknown.' Spock's hand on his knee told him he'd misjudged. Well, that or Spock was just really a lot more bendy than Kirk had hitherto given him credit for. He frowned behind the blindfold, wondering when his internal monologue had started sounding like Spock.

'We did the bridge already,' Kirk pointed out. 'Three times, actually, and always in my chair. It's not really an unknown, not that I'm complaining.'

When Spock answered, his voice came from close to Kirk's groin, and he wondered what space flu must have infected his brain to make him protest at this. 'If you wish, we could move proceedings to the conn.'

'I don't think Ensi- urk.'

Okay, maybe there was something to be said for this whole blindfolded thing, because he really hadn't expected Spock's breath at his crotch, or his teeth expertly handling the zipper of his uniform trousers, and where the hell had he learnt to do that? The tongue, though, Kirk was happy with that, and the addition of fingers silenced him entirely, at least when it came to coherent words.

Something niggled at the corner of his mind. Hot sex on the bridge was all very well and good and a captain's prerogative, and the blindfold had its uses, but he felt weirdly submissive, just sitting here like some innocent virgin from one of Earth's more prudent periods. He shifted, and tried to remember how to form sentences.

Unfortunately, the shifting only served to bring him into closer contact with Spock's face, which led to further wriggling, and the sudden realisation that, actually, stubble was kind of hot, especially when it was grazing your thigh while the attached mouth did things that were probably illegal on most planets.

'Spock,' he managed at last, refusing to think about how much of a strangled whimper it came out as.

Spock didn't answer, which Kirk supposed just went to show Vulcan must have been a civilised place after all, if people there were taught never to talk with their mouths full. He did, however, place a strong hand on Kirk's chest, holding him in place.

'What, I can't - nngh - I can't talk now? Will it screw up your graphs?'

The mouth retreated, with one last lick, and there was a sound as of lips being wiped with the back of a hand. Kirk jerked forward, missing the heat and wetness already, but no, this was good, he was back in control. Or something. Not being a blushing flower of womanhood, at any rate. When Spock spoke, it was in the same measured tone he always used on the bridge, with only the slightest roughness to suggest he'd spent the last seven minutes and forty seven seconds fellating his captain.

'I assure you, Captain, I have spent many years perfecting the art of graphing and charting. I fully trust in my ability to extract useful scientific data from even your most persistent attempts to skew the results. May I continue?'

Dammit, he could practically hear the raised eyebrow. And see the glint dancing in Spock's eyes, and the faint green flush in his cheeks, and the swell of his lips...

Blushing and innocent it was, then.

'No, uh, carry on,' Kirk said, resisting the urge to bite his own lip, and leaned back again.

'Thank you, Captain,' Spock said, and returned his face to Kirk's trousers.

Kirk could only manage a sort of moan in response to that, which was quite frankly embarrassing for a man of his experience, so he decided it might be a good time to stop thinking. He reached forward blindly with one hand, found Spock's head, and held on to him while resolutely ignoring the array of sound effects he was making. He was pretty sure they were useless anyway, scientifically speaking, since Spock had had numerous opportunities to document them already.

He hadn't documented the swoosh of the turbolift doors opening, though. The noise took a fraction of a second to register, at which point Spock withdrew slightly, and Kirk tensed, suddenly rethinking his verdict on the blindfold thing. It was kind of a weird sensation, being sprawled across his chair with his flies undone and not knowing which member of his crew was currently getting an eyeful.

'Lieutenant Sulu,' Spock said, sounding utterly unruffled. 'You are early. Your shift does not start for another fourteen minutes.'

'Hot damn,' came the lieutenant's reply. Kirk frowned. He knew he was hot, but he hadn't been expecting that reaction.

'Sulu?' he asked warily, hoping to God Spock's head was shielding the view.

'Sorry, sir-'

'Lieutenant,' came Spock's crisp voice. 'May I ask why you are grinning?'

Stupid question, Kirk thought, rolling his eyes. They were barely out of spacedock and Sulu had already established himself as the gossip king of the Enterprise. He'd be dining out on this for weeks, if they ever got any shore leave. Sulu's reply therefore threw him somewhat off-kilter.

'I had this week, sir.'

'You had this week what?' Kirk asked, confused.

'Congratulations,' Spock said smoothly. 'Now, if you do not mind, I have not yet finished my observations.'

'Of course, sir,' Sulu answered, and Kirk could hear the laugh in his voice, the smug little bastard. He shifted uncomfortably as the turbolift doors swished again, suddenly unpleasantly aware of Spock's saliva drying in the cool air of the bridge.

Fortunately, it was replaced a moment later with warmer spit, and an attendant mouth, and Kirk's question died on his lips.


'This,' said Jim Kirk once more, but in a much quieter voice, 'is fucked up.'

'I do not know what you could possibly be referring to,' said Spock in an equally quiet voice, holding his datapadd stiffly. 'Peer-review is the heart of the scientific method.'

Kirk hunched his shoulders, attempting to hide himself from the curious eyes of the many Vulcans lining the walls of the chamber. He strongly suspected it wasn't working, since they all knew who he was anyway. Damn that saving-people complex he'd picked up somewhere along the line. 'I just don't get why I have to be here.'

'While I may have written up the data and drawn the conclusions, your assistance in undertaking the experiments was crucial to the success of this research. You have earned the right to have your name alongside mine as co-author.'

'And that's another thing I don't get,' Kirk muttered, glowering.

'Captain?' Spock raised that insufferable eyebrow, and Kirk lost himself for a moment thinking of tried and tested ways to remove it, before remembering where he was.

'All that graph stuff, I thought that was just a line.'

'I am not sure I understand, captain.'

'You know, a pick-up line?' He eyed the assorted Vulcans with trepidation and not a little ire. 'Although it should have been a clue when you kept it up even after you got your cock up my-'

He was interrupted by the banging of a gavel, and all eyes turning towards the Director of the Vulcan Science Academy. Kirk hadn't caught his name.

'We are convened to discuss the results of Commander Spock's most recent research into the puzzling nature of Human sexuality. Following detailed investigations by other Vulcans into the standard, or heterosexual, mode, Commander Spock has decided to branch off into one of the more taboo areas of this subject, and address homosexuality. He was aided in this research by Captain James Tiberius Kirk, a Human male.'

The Director inclined his head graciously towards Kirk. 'This council acknowledges the contribution of Captain Kirk to the cause of ongoing research. Now, if you will all turn to Page 54-'

Kirk turned to Spock. 'Ongoing?' he hissed.

'Of course,' Spock murmured, sotto voce, inclining his head and meeting Kirk's gaze. His expression was inscrutable.

'Now wait just a minute!'

All eyes again turned to Kirk, and the Director shot him a particularly icy glare, for a Vulcan. 'Is there a problem, Captain?' he asked.

Kirk could feel Spock's eyes boring into him, echoing the question. He glanced at Spock and his still-raised, unbearably-smug eyebrow. And then his gaze flicked down, and took in the rest of his first officer, focusing particularly on the hand holding the datapadd. One long finger was stroking the edge of it almost idly. Kirk gulped.

To hell with it. This was meant to be a voyage of exploration and discovery, after all. Who was he to argue with pushing back the frontiers of science?

'No, uh, not at all. Carry on.' He tore his gaze away from Spock, unable to repress a smile, and settled back, determined to enjoy the show.
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