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Written for ksadvent 2011 on livejournal.

 

Spock took one step into the room and then froze as he was assaulted by a strong wave of apple-cinnamon scented air. He slowly raised his eyes from his PADD to take in the state of his quarters. The main living area was almost completely dark, lit only by the soft, flickering light seeping through the gaps in the screen that separated it from his sleeping nook. Spock stepped forward to investigate, pausing in the doorway between the two rooms when he saw Jim lounging against the headboard, his hands lanced behind his head, surrounded by dozens of non-regulation tea lights on every available flat surface. 

Jim smiled widely and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he said.

Spock blinked before tilting his head ever so slightly to the side and tracing his eyes over Jim’s naked body. His right eyebrow shot straight into his hairline as he caught sight of the Santa hat tented over his crotch.

 “Come sit on Santa’s lap.”

With almost insulting composure, Spock stepped the rest of the way into the room and calmly pushed a few candles out of the way so he could set his PADD on the bookshelf. For a few moments, he studied Jim with a neutral expression.

Jim sighed.

“You’re Santa’s little helper, remember?” he prompted. He slowly trailed his fingers over his neck and chest, watching with satisfaction as Spock’s eyes followed his movements, fingers traveling down, down, down until he slipped his hand beneath the hat and palmed his dick. He gave himself a few firm strokes, tilting his head back and letting his eyelids droop, only partially for effect.  “Well… Santa’s got a little problem he needs some help with.”

At that, Spock shook his head minutely, and Jim swore he looked almost long-suffering—but then he strode forward decisively and settled himself in Jim’s lap, shedding his boots, tunic, and thermal undershirt along the way.

“That’s more like it,” Jim murmured encouragingly.   He sat up and tried to catch Spock’s bottom lip between his teeth, his hands sliding over Spock’s thighs until he had a firm grip in his ass, but Spock held him back with a single hand pressed against his collarbone.

 Jim huffed in frustration. “C’mon, Spock. You promised to give this a shot.”

Spock narrowed his eyes in defiance and plucked the Santa hat from Jim’s lap. He tugged it over Jim’s head,  then slid his hands down from the brim of the hat until they cupped Jim’s neck and the back of his head, pulling him forward until they were cheek to cheek, Spock’s mouth so close to his ear that his lips brushed Jim’s skin with every word as he said,

“As I understand it, Santa, you only bring presents to the ‘good’ boys and girls on Christmas Eve.” Jim nodded, his brow furrowing. “Have I been a ‘good’ boy?”

Jim bit down on his cheek as he tried not to laugh. He took a deep breath as said as sternly as possible, “No. No, you haven’t. I’m afraid you’re on the naughty list this year Mr. Spock. It’s coal for you this Christmas.”

“Perhaps it would be possible to persuade you to think otherwise?” Spock flicked his tongue out and drew Jim’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Oh,” Jim said, “I don’t know. It would take an awful lot of convincing.”

Spock released his ear with a nip, then smoothed his lips down Jim’s neck before pausing right above his shoulder. He nibbled and licked at the skin almost delicately before sealing his lips and sucking, hard.

Jim gasped and bucked his hips into Spock, his hands sliding from his ass to his shoulders, where Jim dug his nails in before raking them along Spock’s spine. Spock pulled away from Jim’s neck with a pop, his back arching as he hissed, hand shootings out to grip the headboard for balance. Jim fisted his hand in Spock's hair and yanked him down until their lips connected, the kiss a battle for domination from the start.  Jim licked and sucked at Spock’s lips until they flushed an almost violent green, rolling his hips against Spock’s with enthusiasm as their tongues tangled.

Jim pulled away and choked out a pained “fuck” as his cock ground against the zipper of Spock trousers.

“Jim?”  Spock panted. “Are you--”

Jim flipped Spock quickly, then attacked the fastening of his pants. After he ripped his fly open he leaned forward briefly to sink his teeth into Spock’s jaw line before rearing up on his knees to peel Spock’s trousers, long-johns, and underwear off all at once, tossing them to the floor with a muffled thunk. He slid down on the bed and took Spock into his mouth in one smooth slide.

Spock made an unintelligible sound and fisted his hands in the bed-sheets. Jim flicked his tongue against Spock’s slit before bobbing on his cock, humming as he did so. He twisted one hand around the base of his own cock and squeezed to take off the edge, then rubbed his knuckles against the smooth skin below Spock’s dick, messaging his balls. He pulled away to suck on his finger before working it into Spock’s ass, quirking it against his prostate.

Spock gasped, and shot up into a sitting position. He dragged Jim up and into another kiss, then collapsed backwards, pulling Jim along with him. They rolled until they were on their sides, Jim’s leg hitched over Spock’s as they thrust their cocks together, Spock fisting them both in a near punishing grip.

They came at nearly the same time, the both of them crying out as they jerked stutteringly.

Jim rolled away from Spock with a groan, his eyes slipping shut as exhaustion hit him. He opened his eyes when he felt the bed shift a few minutes later, and smiled at Spock, who was leaning over him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Have I convinced you that your estimation of my behavior this year was in error?”Jim laughed and yanked him down into a hug.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Spock. I’ve been thoroughly convinced.”

Chapter End Notes:

Many thanks to my emergency beta math Nazi, who edited this piece only a few hours before I had to post it to the ksadvent.

My prompt for this story was "Santa Hat porn, K/S style."

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