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The Dry Humping of Barry Giotto

 

 

 

“Damn it, Jim,” McCoy swore at the face on the view screen before him. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Spock’s entering his sex fever thing and you’re still two hours away!”

“Bones,” Jim sighed. The doctor really wasn’t helping his nerves right now. He and Spock had been lovers for four years now and bonded for two. The fact that Spock was in his first Pon Farr ever and he was not yet onboard to help was tearing at Jim from the inside out, especially since he was more than well aware of Spock’s pain through their mind link. “There’s nothing I can do to get there faster. I’m already pushing this damn thing at warp four, which by the way is one factor higher than what it’s rated. Hell, if I could transport myself aboard by sheer force of will, don’t you think I would?

The two men shared a glance of mutual helplessness and fear before Jim spoke again, “Where is he now? All I can pick up from his mind is how uncomfortable he is.”

McCoy frowned sadly, “He’s in quarantine—“

“WHAT!?” Jim yelled, causing Bones to visibly flinch, “What the hell is he doing in quarantine!?”

“Now, Jim,” McCoy tried to sooth. “You have to understand-“

Jim was beside himself with fury, “Understand what? That you’ve locked Spock away like some kind of wild animal-“

“Damn it, Jim, he assaulted an officer!” Bones was going to wait until the Captain re-boarded the ship to explain what had happened, but apparently that was not to be the case today.

Jim’s faced drained of color for a minute, his anger being completely replaced by dread, “Who was it? What did Spock do, Bones?”

“Calm down, Jim,” McCoy tried to be reassuring. “It was Giotto, and he’s not going to press charges, let me just get that out of the way first.”

Jim took a calming breath, “Okay, Bones. Let me have it.” With that, Bones began to recall the events of that morning.

 

XXXXXXX Eight Hours Earlier XXXXXXXX

               Spock wasn’t doing so well. Leonard McCoy, CMO of the starship Enterprise was running around Sickbay trying to find any solution to the hobgoblin’s current predicament. He risked a glance at the half-Vulcan’s prone form. The First Officer was lying on his back in the private room, his eyes closed tightly in pain, sweat beading at his forehead before sliding across his temple and off the side of one pointed ear as he was clearly trying to meditate away the substantial erection now tenting his command pants.

               McCoy swallowed hard as he thought of what Jim was going to have to endure when he made it back to the ship that afternoon. Of course, he knew his trepidation for his friend was ridiculous—Jim and Spock had been partners for around four years now, having come together a year before the end of the Enterprise’s first mission. Even if Bones would prefer not to think about Jim riding the hobgoblin, he was damn certain it wouldn’t be Jim’s first trip on the merry-go-round, even if it would be his first time doing so during the Vulcan mating cycle.

               Bones decided on a sedative—if Spock couldn’t manually abate the erection, perhaps knocking him out would at least help the Vulcan sleep through some of the time between now and Jim’s arrival. “Spock,” he called as he approached the Vulcan with the hypo, “I’m going to administer a sedative, alright? It will help you get some rest before Jim gets back.”

               “…Jim…” the word was panted pathetically, almost a sob—almost. Spock was past caring about maintaining Vulcan control over his emotions. He wanted his bondmate…he needed him.Ashaya..” he moaned in despair, “Why has thou forsaken me?”

               McCoy’s eyes were definitely not watering in sympathy for the poor Vulcan. Somehow, in Spock’s fever-induced delusion, he believed that Jim had abandoned him in his time of need. Bones wasn’t about to let Spock continue on with that train of thought. Even if Spock was past the point of coherence, he had to try, “Spock,” he soothed as he lifted the hypo to the Vulcan’s neck,” Jim hasn’t forsaken you. He’s on his way right now and when he gets here, he’s gonna make you all better.”

               The second McCoy pressed the hypo into Spock’s neck, the Commander leapt off the bed in a impressive dispaly Vulcan strength and agility, “Who are you!” he shouted, obviously suffering from a hallucination. “What did you do to me?” Spock’s eyes were wild with varying emotions—none of which boded well for the doctor.

               “Now, Spock,” McCoy held up two hands in a show of passivity. Suddenly the bed and tables between them in the small room didn’t seem like much of a barrier. He slowly reached down with one hand and pressed the security call button on the panel beside him, “I told you I was giving you a sedative, remember, to help you sleep?”

               “I don’t NEED a fucking sedative! I need JIM!” The Vulcan spat, vehemently as he began to cross the room, choking was definitely on the agenda. This bastard must be hiding his mate somewhere, he was thinking, when he suddenly felt a pull on the link inside his mind. He could feel the soothing emotions of his mate rushing at him. Calm, Spock, I’m coming. Calm.

               McCoy was sure that if he weren’t so goddamned terrified at the moment, that he would probably laugh at the absurdity of hearing Spock swear, using the F bomb no less. Jim would certainly be proud. He was about to comment that sleeping would help pass the time, when Spock’s mood suddenly shifted and he stopped at the foot of the bed and sat, listlessly, on the mattress, sad eyes watching the door. “Jim…my Jim…”

               Bones could see that the Vulcan’s eyes were unfocused, as if he were looking inward—not actually seeing the Sickbay around him. Slowly, he began to slide along the wall toward the exit. He’d get out the door, activate the lock, wait for the sedative to knock Spock unconscious and clean up the mess afterward. At that precise moment, however, Lieutenant Barry Giotto rushed into the room, causing both the doctor and the Vulcan to snap their heads up in his direction, “What’s going on in here? Is everything alright?”

               “Giotto-“ Bones started to warn, just before Spock leapt off the bed and tackled the Security Chief to the floor. McCoy instinctively pulled the privacy curtain all the way around the room, in an attempt to keep this situation from prying eyes and Spock’s dignity in place for when this Pon Farr was fucking over.

               “JIM!” Spock’s embrace was crushing Giotto’s ribs as the Lieutenant struggled for leverage.

               “What the hell is going on?!” Barry yelled in shocked panic. Vulcan’s were easily five times stronger than humans. Half-Vulcans, apparently, were not an exception to that fact. “Commander!” He shouted trying to get the Vulcan’s attention when he realized that Spock had no intention of letting him up anytime soon.

               Bones snapped out of his state of suspended disbelief, “Spock can’t hear you, Lieutenant.” McCoy loaded up another hypo, this one with a stronger dose of sedative. The other one, if it were going to work, should have already knocked the First Officer out. This particular serum was known to work on mitigating labor pains for female Klingons. If it was strong enough for them, it ought to be strong enough for Spock. “He’s hallucinating. Thinks you’re Jim.”

               He approached the struggling heap on the floor carefully, so as to not be noticed by the Vulcan. Suddenly, Barry went absolutely beat red, shocked into stillness when Spock covered the Security Chief’s lips with his own. The Vulcan then began undulating his hips into Barry’s thigh, driving his very hard cock against the Lieutenant’s absolutely panicked body. “Jim…” Spock moaned against Giotto’s lips before licking a path from Barry’s ear to the juncture of his neck and shoulder where he then began to suck.

               “FUCK!” Giotto yelped, when his penis was groped by strong hands with a purpose. He didn’t know what do—his commanding officer was dry humping his leg and feeling him up like he was some kind of street whore. If he weren’t so freaked out by the Vulcan’s odd and molesting behavior—if perhaps it were happening to someone else, anyone else—he’d maybye…probably be laughing his ass off. As it was, however, he was about to be severely manhandled by a delusional, sex fevered Vulcan. “DOCTOR!” he yelled again when Spock went for his fly, “DO SOMETHING!!!”

               Throwing his cautious approach out the window, McCoy leapt onto the Vulcan and jabbed his neck with the sedative, which thankfully, had the desired effect. Spock dropped like a sack of potatoes. McCoy, overcome with relief, flopped boneless back against the footboard of the bed, tossing his hypo across the room, “I’m getting too goddamned old for this shit.”

               Giotto allowed relief to flood him momentarily before the very pressing issue of the unconscious Vulcan still lying heavily atop him brought him back to reality. “Uh……a little help, please?”

               McCoy sucked in a breath, coming back to himself, “Oh, right,” he coughed awkwardly. Bone’s managed to roll the Vulcan off of Barry and onto the floor, “Help me get him to the bed, wouldya?”

               Giotto nodded, finally freed and straightening his uniform, “Sure.” Together, they lifted Spock by his feet and shoulders and hauled him onto the biobed. Barry walked to the door, then turned back to address the doctor, “You tell Jim, he’s damned lucky I have a sense of humor. He owes me BIG,” he gestured widely with his hands. “Like, shoreleave-on-Risa-with-6,000-credits big.”

               McCoy nodded with a chuckle, “I’ll let him know…” then he let out a sigh of relief, “I take it you’re not going to file a sexual harassment charge then-“

               “You’re fucking joking, right?” Giotto guffawed, “That’s the last thing I need—ribs about being Spock’s cupcake. No, thanks. Besides, it’s not like he has any idea what he was doing,” he shook his head. “He’s gonna be okay, right?”

               McCoy allowed himself a fond smile. Giotto was full of surprises, “He’ll be alright,” and then he added, “I’ll make sure you get that leave and those credits.”

               The Security Chief chuckled before turning and heading back to his office. He’d been joking about Jim owing him one…but hey, if the doctor thought he could pull it off, he wasn’t about to complain.

 

XXXXXX Now XXXXXX

               “So I owe Giotto 6,000 credits?” Jim was staring at Bones in disbelief. There were only 45 minutes left until he’d be back on the ship. Spock was still sleeping soundly, according to McCoy, who had injected some of the sedative into an IV drip for his bondmate.

               Jim shook his head, chuckling as he met the smiling blue eyes of his best friend, “Un-fucking-believable, but it’s a small price to pay.”

               “Damn right,” McCoy agreed. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

               Jim nodded, “Alright. Kirk out.” Once the screen went blank, Jim pulled out his PADD. He first sent a request to Starfleet command, care of Admiral Christopher Pike for shoreleave on the pleasure planet, Risa. Next, he opened his account and transferred 10,000 credits to the pay account for Lt. Giotto, along with an attachment:

               Cupcake, thanks for being a sweetie! You’re on first rotation when we get to Risa.

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The End. I hope you all had a good laugh, and CMM, I can provide you with an address to which you may mail a Cashier’s Check or Money Order. I also accept PayPal and most major credit cards. Just saying.

 

The link to CMM's follow up piece, Vulcan's Always Pay Their Debts: http://www.ksarchive.com/viewstory.php?sid=4085&warning=1

 

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