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A/N: A fill for the Star Trek ID Kink Meme.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.
It’s been two months. Two months.

Jim isn’t known for going two dates, let alone anything past a week. If he loved Spock any less, they’d have a row about it, but he expected these blocks when he started. And he accepted that.

But now they’re back and they’re kissing, Spock’s hot tongue in his mouth, Jim heady from real vodka and Spock still standing after Jim convinced him on tequila, which had virtually no effect. They’re both still walking straight lines, when they’re not busy swapping spit.

Jim has to stop long enough to fumble out the code for his apartment, tugging Spock by the hand through his doors. He can feel Spock shiver against him—Vulcans and their hands. For someone so metallic, Spock can be very... sensitive.

Spock’s still game past the living room. They’re slipping out of clothes, standard-issue, grey jackets slipping to the floor, stepping out of shoes. Jim tries to get at Spock’s shirt, but Spock just keeps pushing him, until they’re in the bedroom and Jim needs this. He’s got a great view of the city through his windows, and the sky’s dark and purple behind it.

Jim only lets go so he can close the shutters—he knows Spock will want privacy. He knows he’ll be getting some. They met for breakfast, they checked in on the Enterprise’s repair status together, they spent the day all in each other’s arms on the best date imaginable. Spock even drank for him, and Spock never drinks. But Jim didn’t let them get too tipsy, because this is something he’s going to want to remember.

He turns from the curtains to look over at Spock, standing in the bedroom doorway. His black shirt is stretched tightly across his chest, rising and falling heavier than usual. Deep breathing. Pupils dilated, eyes on fire. Spock’s lips are moist from being kissed, pink and a little swollen. He looks handsome as fuck. He growls while Jim steps closer, “Lights.”

The lights don’t adjust. “They’re set for just my voice,” Jim chuckles. So when people get up to leave in the morning, they won’t leave them on. But that was a pre-Spock problem.

Jim reaches his boyfriend and leans in for a kiss, and Spock doesn’t press back as much as he did before.

“What’s the matter?” Jim parts a centimeter.

“Lights,” Spock repeats.

“Nope.” When Spock’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, Jim explains huskily, “I want to see you the first time.” And there, he’s shown his hand. He expects that and he wants that. He slips his hands onto Spock’s hips, but he finds them surprisingly rigid.

Spock gently pulls back from him, and Jim’s left empty handed. “I... Captain, I think it would be prudent to turn the lights off.”

“I said no, Commander.” Jim’s frowning. “What’s the matter? You were all into it a second ago.” Which isn’t entirely true, because every time they get close, Spock has some excuse. Jim tries all the time. Spock’s too hot not to enjoy. But Spock’s always wriggling out without saying why, and Jim turns to sit on the bed, forced to wonder at this point, “Is it me?”

“What?”

“Do you not want me? Or you’re not comfortable? Because I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want...” Jim wants this so badly. And it sucks that they’re going to have to do this now, because everything was going so good. Maybe Spock’s just never been with a man before. Was Spock like this with Uhura? Probably not, or she would’ve been grumpier.

Spock breathes out slowly. He says, “That is not it.” But he doesn’t explain what ‘it’ is.

Jim reaches for his hand and tugs him closer. “I know you’re not a virgin, so that’s not it.”

Spock tentatively sits down beside him. The bed’s made for once, because Jim knew they were coming, and he tries to make a good impression. He cleaned the whole place. There aren’t any socks or PADDs on the floor. There’s a television set turned off on the other side of the room, and the ceiling light makes a halo of shine in Spock’s dark hair. This, clearly, is one of the many things Spock doesn’t want to talk about. But they’re a couple and it matters. He eventually says, “With Nyota... she respected my need for darkness.”

Because Jim doesn’t actually know that much about Vulcan physiology, he says, “Tell me you physically need the lights off, and we’ll do that.”

Vulcans, supposedly, can’t lie. Jim doesn’t think Spock would lie to him, even were it an option. The only thing left is that there’s an emotional need, but that’s not something Spock’s going to say. He says quietly, “Please.”

That always makes Jim’s heart constrict. So he sighs, and he leans forward, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Fuck. He knew this would happen, but he was still hoping... “All... alright, I’ll walk you home. Or... or I’ll sleep on the couch...”

“You misunderstand,” Spock cuts him off. “Jim, I... I would very much like to...” He’s never very good at saying it. Instead, he picks up Jim’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “I simply do not want you to see me.”

“Why?” Jim can’t fathom it. “You’re gorgeous. I love the way you look. Why wouldn’t you let me see you?”

“Thank you. But you have only seen very little of me.”

“And I want to see everything. ...Spock, you can’t disappoint me. It’s not possible.” And then he stops to wonder, “Is this... is this because you’re Vulcan?”

“Half,” Spock corrects, which he never does. Offering up that he’s human is not in the Spock handbook. It’s that, more than anything, that makes Jim nervous.

He turns more, knees bumping into Spock’s legs, so he can look Spock right in the eye. He sees the trouble there. “Look, I can tell you’re upset—”

“I am not—”

“You are. And I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want to know the truth, because I care about you, and maybe I can help you through it. If you’re ashamed of any part of your body being different, you don’t need to be. I’ve... ah...” Jim hesitates before he voices what Spock must already know, “I’ve been with my share of aliens. Never a Vulcan, true, but... heck, I’ve seen an Orion vagina, and I’m pretty sure whatever you’ve got isn’t nearly that crazy.”

Spock’s eyebrows knit together again. Evidently, he hasn’t seen an Orion vagina. ...That only leaves Jim to ponder what it is Spock has, and he tries not to let himself get too crazy, wondering if some Vulcans have many parts or extra nipples or tentacles, or something. He doesn’t want to laugh. This is serious to Spock. Spock just looks down, and Jim insists more softly, his hand slipping over onto Spock’s thigh, “Look, you shouldn’t be ashamed for being different than me.”

“It is not that I am different from you,” Spock breathes. He glances at Jim, and Jim’s staring at him hard. It takes him a minute to continue, “It is that I am different from Vulcans. ...Ah, and humans. I am...”

“So?” Jim interrupts insistently. “You’re one of a kind, that’s even better. Why would you think there’s anything wrong with being differ—”

But he knows exactly who would do that, so he squeezes Spock’s hand harder. ‘Exactly’ might not be the right term. He knows things weren’t easy growing up for Spock.

For a few seconds, he’s just quiet. When he goes to talk again, Spock cuts him off, rushing, “This was different. I have accepted that the immature nattering of children should not affect my emotional control, but there were... incidents tied to this that... that still come to mind. There were several of them who did this, and they told many others. So many Vulcans cannot be wrong. I was teased relentlessly for it.” He takes a deep breath.

He starts again, though Jim didn’t ask, “One day... after my classes, I was walking home when... when I was pulled aside. I was taken into one of their homes by several of them. There were no adults at the house. I did not want to scream—they were doing it to elicit an emotional response, and I did not want to give in. They held me down, and they... they divested me of my clothes...”

“They stripped you?” Jim interrupts, hardly able to believe his ears. “Vulcan children? They...?”

Spock nods. “They made fun of my... genital area, and how it is neither Vulcan nor human, and... it was the source of many insults for a very, very long time. I was told as much during my first physical experience on Vulcan. I was distraught, and that emotional response afterwards only gave them more proverbial ammunition. And I am not proud of how I let this affect me. It is not... Jim, it is not pleasant.”

Jim nods. He understands. Well, he doesn’t understand; how could he? Spock doesn’t say it—he never would—but Jim gives him the hug he needs. Jim holds him tight, rubbing his back softly, wanting to give him that emotional reassurance. He knows how important being Vulcan is to Spock, and he mumbles in Spock’s pointed ear, “They must feel like fools, looking back on that. ...On Earth, we call that jealousy.”

“Jealousy?”

Jim pulls back only enough to peck Spock on the cheek, insisting, “They only did that because they were jealous of how handsome you are. You had no flaws, so they had to convince you that you did. But I promise you, I don’t care if you don’t look like a Vulcan down there, or even if you don’t look human. I love you, and I’m going to do so no matter what you look like.” Smirking a little, Jim adds with a kiss to the lips, “But I’m sure you look just as hot there as you do all over.”

Spock’s hands are twitching around Jim, as though they want to wrap around him again and hug even tighter. He says, “I am sorry to have made you wait so long. I am aware that many humans have certain... needs.”

Jim shakes his head. “It’s okay. That all... that makes sense. Look, we can wait if you want, it’s alright. I mean, I’m not going to lie, I want you, even after talking the mood away like this, because I always want you. But I love you enough that I’ll wait. Or I’ll do it with the lights off, if you want. But someday, I’d like for you to trust me enough to let me see you, not just because I desperately want to know what you look like raw and uncovered, but because I want to give you better memories. You shouldn’t have to walk around with that.”

Spock says, “Jim,” and everything’s in that one word.

He’s pressing into Jim before Jim can offer anything else. It starts off sweet but heats up fast. Spock’s tongue in his mouth. Spock’s hand on his face. Spock’s fingers splaying up his cheek, slipping into his hair, holding him in. He’s responding in a heartbeat. Surging up against Spock. His hands are on Spock’s sides, clinging to the fabric. Why are they sitting up still?

“You are very kind to me.” Spock’s appreciative and then kissing him again before he can answer.

He’s just thinking about falling when Spock pulls him down, bouncing sideways onto the bed, still making out like they were before all the talk, like they never stopped. But now Jim knows, and he’s going to try to be careful. He lets Spock lead. He’s horny as hell, and he stops to help tug Spock further up the bed, so their legs aren’t awkwardly dangling off. They get to the pillows and Jim feels like a teenager all over again. He wants to touch Spock everywhere, but he doesn’t.

He’s felt Spock’s strong chest. He’s felt Spock’s trim waist and Spock’s full, taut ass. He’s even felt the bulge in Spock’s pants, but all through clothes. Now he sticks to Spock’s back, holding him in. Jim knows the inside of Spock’s mouth like the back of his hand. It tastes like synthehol. He catches Spock’s lower lip in his teeth and tugs it, tilting his face to kiss the side of Spock’s lips and then Spock’s jaw, then his chin, then down to his throat. He kisses and nips and sucks on Spock’s neck, and Spock moans, “Jim, I...”

Pulling off and laving his tongue over the red mark he left behind, Jim purrs, “I’ll stop the second you tell me to, I swear.”

“I do not want you to stop.” Spock’s fingers are threading lightly through Jim’s hair again, gently trying to push him down.

Grinning, Jim obliges. He latches his mouth onto Spock’s adam’s apple, sucking lightly and tonguing it, loving the way it bobs beneath him with Spock’s laboured breath. Then it’s back down Spock’s neck, and he tugs the collar of Spock’s shirt aside to nip at his collarbone. Jim licks all across it, sticking his tongue into the dip in the middle, and he asks with as much restraint as possible, “Can I take your shirt off?”

He glances up through his lashes. Spock’s nodding. “If you remove yours.”

With a bit of a smirk, Jim’s ripping his shirt off in seconds. He doesn’t miss the way Spock’s eyes instantly flicker to him, hands falling to his pecs, wandering down his golden skin. Jim leans into the touch, and Spock’s eyelids flutter.

Then Jim rolls them over, straddling Spock’s waist, and he can feel Spock’s hard dick through both of their pants. Spock tries to stifle a moan but doesn’t manage. Jim grinds them together and tugs at the hem of Spock’s shirt, hooking a finger in the collar and guiding him up. Spock sits long enough to pull his shirt over his head, and then he’s falling back onto the mattress, cheeks faintly flushed green. Jim’s got his hands in the blankets to either side of Spock’s chest, and he takes his minute just to stare.

Spock’s just as handsome as Jim knew he would be. He doesn’t have as many muscles as Jim does, but his stomach’s taut and he’s clearly strong, his skin pale and smooth all the way down. His nipples are just as rosy as his lips, and there’s a thin trail of dark hair below his belly, disappearing into his pants. His mouth is slightly open as he looks up at Jim, waiting.

Jim murmurs, “Beautiful,” and dives down to press his tongue into Spock’s bellybutton, dragging it all the way up Spock’s chest, right up to the already wet collarbone. Spock moans again, slightly lifting off the mattress. Leaning into it. Crooning for more. Jim smirks and kisses a messy trail back down his abs, slipping left to kiss his nipple. Then Jim lets his tongue run around it, pressing down and teasing it, flicking it lightly until it rises, hardening like any human’s. One of Spock’s hands tightens in Jim’s hair—the other is on Jim’s shoulder, petting softly. Jim licks his way over to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment, sucking it into his mouth. He suckles on it like a lollipop, until it’s as hard as possible. Then he lets it go and places a kiss over Spock’s heart, noting the way its beating speeds up.

Jim wants to worship ever centimeter of Spock’s body. His hands lightly trace Spock’s sides as he kisses lower, up and down Spock’s stomach and around Spock’s navel, down a little bit to nuzzle his chin against Spock’s pubic hair. Spock makes a keening sound, hands falling into the blankets, making fists in them. Jim’s teeth scrape at the hem of Spock’s dark pants, and he doesn’t mean to go lower. He swipes his tongue underneath, but he knows his limits.

Until Spock breathes, “Take them off.”

“What?” Jim lifts up, looking at Spock to be sure.

Spock looks as horny as Jim feels: a look he wants to remember for a long, long time. It’s hard enough to get Spock to smile. Getting him to blush and moan and look so damn good is a small miracle. Spock pants quietly, “Take my pants off.” And he shuts his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Jim’s fingers are trembling in anticipation, thumbs hooked in the hem.

Spock nods. Then opens his eyes again and corrects, “Yours... yours too...”

Jim promises, “I will.”

And he slowly tugs Spock’s pants lower, down tantalizingly slow, savouring the show of it. His pulse is going a million light years a second. He wants, he wants to see everything. He reveals short, dark hair, trailing down, and then he reaches the base of Spock’s dick, and he sucks in a breath. He slips the fabric down, revealing a large, long cock, traced in green veins and pulsing, big and beautiful. There aren’t any balls beneath it—it just goes straight into his skin, slipping down his taint. Jim doesn’t mind one bit. He licks his lips and stares at it, and before he does anything more, he has to bend forward and kiss the tip.

Then he pulls Spock’s pants down his thighs and helps get them the rest of the way off, and Jim can feel Spock’s eyes nervously on him. Jim distractedly climbs out of his own pants, flicking them across the room, still looking at the gorgeous cock in front of him the whole time. They’re both left completely naked. Spock is lifted up on his elbows.

Jim climbs up on his knees, straddling Spock again, and brushes their cocks together. Spock sucks in a breath. Spock’s a little longer than Jim, but Jim might be a little thicker. Jim’s is darker and pinker and, of course, he has balls. He lets them rest on Spock’s dick, and he uses his hands to rub their cocks together, smiling fondly and moaning in the back of his throat.

He looks up at Spock’s torn face. He leans down, hands in the mattress, then the pillows, and he presses his forehead and nose into Spock’s.

“You’re beautiful. Every part of you. I love it.” He kisses Spock’s cheek, then his mouth.

Then Jim rolls his hips against Spock’s, and Spock’s head falls to the side, eyes scrunched together and mouth open.

Jim crawls back down his body, purring, “I’ve never seen something I wanted in my mouth so badly.”

“In your... in your mouth?” Spock looks at him strangely, and Jim’s grin twists into a smirk. He has to bite the inside of his mouth not to chuckle. So Vulcans don’t do... “I’m aware some humans seem to have an... oral fixation, but...”

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” Jim asks. He’s made his way back down the bed, and now his face is right next to Spock’s dick. Spock’s still looking nervous. Like Jim will change his mind at any moment. Jim gives the shaft a small lick, like a preview.

“It is... dirty.” Spock breathes. Fuck, that’s hot. Jim knows he doesn’t mean it to be, but it is. “Your mouth is for sustenance and language, and... and it is just...” He breaks off by tossing his head back and moaning very loudly, probably because Jim’s just licked him again, all the way from base to tip. Jim starts laving up the heavy cock in front of him, holding it up and licking it hard. Spock tries to watch, but his head keeps tossing, lashes fluttering. Jim kisses the spot where Spock’s balls would go in particular, and he nuzzles his nose into it. His own cock is hard as rock just from seeing and tasting, and he rubs himself against the mattress, curled up at the end of the bed.

While Jim kisses the base, he purrs, “What are Vulcan cocks like?”

Spock barely manages between moans, “Ah... they are... the are sheathed...”

“I like yours like this,” Jim growls. “I like that I have balls and you don’t, but I like that your cock’s still nice and big, thick and veined like a muscle... it’s perfect.” He ends his praise by hovering over the tip, holding it straight up and opening his mouth. He shifts forward, engulfing the top.

Spock screams. His hands shoot to Jim’s hair, and Jim keeps pressing down, further and further, as much as he can. He lets it hit the back of his throat and slip down, heavy on his tongue and stretching his jaw wide. He’s had enough sexual experience to be able to deep-throat without gagging, but he has to concentrate to not let Spock’s fingers push him down. They’re trembling, like they want to but know they shouldn’t. Jim rewards Spock’s control by sucking lightly, making Spock whimper.

Rubbing his hips down hard, Jim slowly pulls off, sucking the whole way. He sucks harder and harder, hollowing out his cheeks, while Spock writhes beneath him. Jim has to hold Spock’s hips down, because he knows they’re going to buck up. Spock’s moaning, “Jim, Jim...”

Jim smiles around his mouthful and impales himself again, humming around it on the descent. When he pulls back next, he sucks, and when he pushes on, he blows. His tongue works along the underside, and Jim starts to bob up and down, taking it all each time, breathing through his nose and trying desperately not to choke. It’s hot as hell, but it’s all about Spock. Getting Spock off. He concentrates and works for it. He sucks and he sucks and he slides up and down, while Spock just lies there coming undone.

Then Spock’s coming, suddenly and sporadically, hot cum spraying right down Jim’s throat. His fingers tug at Jim’s hair, but Jim doesn’t pull of, just buries himself further, throat convulsing at the impact. This makes Spock howl. Spock sounds like an animal. There isn’t any measure of robotic control. He comes and he comes an inordinate amount, and Jim swallows over and over, taking everything his Spock has to give. It’s too far down his throat to taste.

He wants more. He’s almost sad when it ends. His jaw is aching, but it’s the good kind of ache. He slides slowly off, letting Spock’s wilting cock flop back onto his stomach.

Jim nestles down onto it, burying his face in the side, and he humps himself quickly into the mattress, reaching down to jerk himself off. He strokes Spock’s thigh tenderly with the other. He’s coming in minutes, already so heady from the sight and the taste. When he’s done, he’s a panting wreck.

But Spock pleads, “Jim,” and Jim has to get up to crawl over. He collapses half on top of Spock.

He repeats, “You have a great cock.”

Spock’s looking down as he says, “Thank you.” Maybe not just for the compliment. He reaches down Jim’s body to cup Jim’s, making Jim grunt, and he continues, “I would like some time with yours, next round.”

Jim raises an eyebrow at the idea of a next round but doesn’t comment, lest he ruin his luck. He rocks once into Spock’s hand, even though he’s spent.

Then Spock looks up abruptly, dark, still dilated eyes locking onto Jim’s. His mouth is back to its usual straight line, and he says, “You swallowed my...”

Jim licks his lips obnoxiously. “Yes, I did. And you were delicious.”

Spock turns a delicate shade of green. Jim can’t help but laugh. Hard though it is to pull away, Jim sits up and takes Spock with him so there’s room to crawl under the covers. Naturally, Spock follows. Jim tucks them in and turns to say, “I don’t know about you, but humans need a little recovery time between amazing sex, in any form. ...But if you give me a bit of time, I’d be very happy to have that pretty cock of yours up my ass.”

Spock’s nose wrinkles at the crude wording, but otherwise he doesn’t look opposed to it. Jim rolls around and snuggles up to him, stroking his cheek and asking seriously, “You’re okay, right?”

“I had... a very good time.”

Smiling, Jim pecks him on the nose. That feels almost better than the afterglow of the sex does. He just wants Spock to be happy. “...You really do look good. And it’s okay that you were upset about it. Everyone has things they’re insecure about, and what you went through was traumatic. ...All things considered, I think you did very well.”

Rather diplomatically, Spock says, “Thank you, Captain.”

“Very Vulcan.”

Spock’s lips twitch in a smile.

Jim throws a warm arm around him, kisses his cheek and barks, “Lights.” He hates to not see Spock, but if they’re going to have another round, he’s going to need some rest. And they had a long day. And he’s satiated as fuck.

And he can feel Spock beside him, content and not going anywhere.
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