…..::::::…..--**

Pzzzzhew

The laser bolt seared a streak through Jim Kirk's hair, just missing his scalp before continuing into the rock wall to his left. He kept running, keeping his focus on Spock's back as he shouted into the communicator.

"Enterprise, come in goddammit--"

The next bolt hit the communicator square in the center, knocking it out of his hand. He ran faster.

Spock turned a corner before him and leapt out of view. Two more blast points marred the wall where he'd disappeared, only missing Jim by centimeters. He turned the corner, leapt, and braced himself for a two-meter drop into red-purple sand. He misjudged the landing and somersaulted before climbing back to his feet again.

Spock was already at the shuttle, covering him for the last sprint across open ground. The sand pulled at the soles of Jim's boots, tugging him back, making him an easy target. A bolt scorched his thigh and he swore, grimacing.

"Oh, for -- fucking cover me, Spock!"

Spock's face was a steel mask of concentration. If he'd heard Jim, he didn't acknowledge.

Just a few more meters and then he was storming up the shuttle's ramp, gritting his teeth against the pain in his calves. Fucking 1.3G on this fucking planet, and that was only the beginning of it.

"Spock!" he shouted as he dropped into the pilot's seat and punched the engines on. "Get your ass in here!"

The ramp was already closing. Spock settled into the seat next to him and aimed the shuttle's meager weapons at the band of armed resistance fighters below.

"Computer, override start-up safety protocols. Authorization Kirk alpha-alpha-two-five-seven."

"Acknowledged. Shields holding at 62%."

The shuttle rose from the ground with a violent shudder. Jim winced, hoping he hadn't forgotten anything important. Spock didn't comment, thankfully -- he was busy firing at the Trygottians below, and had already taken out the large cannon they were attempting to set up.

"Fly, you fucking piece of shit, come on--" In his peripheral vision he saw Spock raise an eyebrow.

The shuttle rose obediently, still shaking more than Jim liked, but all of the systems were reading within normal parameters. He punched the throttle and the shuttle shot up through the atmosphere, pressing them both back into their seats.

"Shall I take over?" Spock asked as he powered down the weapons. There was just a hint of concern in his tone.

"Sure." Jim transferred helm control to Spock's station. Almost instantly the flight arc smoothed and the shuttle's shaking ceased. Jim exhaled and scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"Jim--" Spock began.

"Shuttle to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise."

"Enterprise here. Captain--"

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"Sorry, Captain. We lost you earlier." The edge in Uhura's voice was hard to miss.

"We were ambushed by a resistance group en route. They apparently staged a coup just before we arrived. We lost Martin and Diedriksson." He paused. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

"Do you require assistance?" There was a hitch in her voice, and Jim closed his eyes. Elena Diedriksson was one of Nyota Uhura's closest friends and one of Starfleet's best linguists. She'd just beamed aboard the Enterprise a few days ago to assist with the peace negotiations between Trygottia and the other inhabited planets in the system. The mission was supposed to be a formality, nothing more. Starfleet Intelligence was going to have to answer to Jim Kirk personally for this one.

"I'm transmitting the last known coordinates of their bodies now. Please have them beamed aboard."

"Yes, sir. I'll transmit rendezvous coordinates shortly."

Jim thumbed off the comm and pounded a fist into the panel, making several warning lights flash. "Jesus fucking… fuck!"

"Jim," Spock said, his voice preternaturally calm as always.

"No, I will not calm the fuck down!" Jim glared at him, but Spock merely stared back with that infuriatingly calm analytical look he reserved for the moments when Jim was losing his shit. "That should not have happened. Intel fucked up, and we lost two Starfleet officers as result. That's two more funerals I have to go to, knowing it didn't have to fucking happen, and that it's some pinhead desk jockey's fucking fault for missing the fact that the Trygottian government was about to be taken out by fucking xenophobic rebels. Fuck." He slumped in his seat.

Spock watched him through narrowed eyes for a moment before turning back to the control panel and pressing a sequence of buttons.

"Autopilot engaged."

Spock turned to look at him again, but Jim was already on his feet, heading back to the small cargo space behind the shuttle's seating area. Just hours ago this ship had been filled with laughter as Ensign Martin told off-color jokes and Lieutenant Diedriksson taught them all a few coarse phrases in Trygottian. They had all been looking forward to a few relaxing days planetside. The peace talks were to be a mere formality, a few hours of monitoring the final negotiations followed by one of those infamous days-long Trygottian parties. Even Spock had expressed interest in that.

He pressed his forehead against the cool plasteel wall and gritted his teeth. This was supposed to be such an easy away mission. Everyone was jealous. Hell, Bones was still pissed at him for not letting him come along. Bones could have been one of those two dead bodies. Jim swore under his breath and pounded the slick wall beneath his fist so hard it hurt.

"Jim." Spock was leaning against the back of a crew seat.

"What?" Jim snapped.

"You're upset."

"That's a fucking understatement." He shook his head. "What about you, Spock? I know there's half a human in there somewhere. Does that part of you feel any of this at all? Betrayal? Anger? Anything?"

"Of course. But it would be illogical to allow those emotions to interfere with--"

"Don't lecture me about logic, not now." Jim closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Haven't you figured out by now that humans don't push it all aside? That we need to get it out in order to keep going?"

"I was not aware that shouting expletives, injuring oneself, and jeopardizing the safety of the surviving away team was a means of getting it out."

Jim opened his eyes and glared back. "Fuck you, Spock. After two years, you don't know a fucking thing about me, do you?"

There was a hand at his throat before he could even blink and he was slammed against the plasteel wall so hard it rattled his teeth. Spock was centimeters away, glaring back at him. There was something dark in his eyes, something Jim had only seen a few times before, ever. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"I know you, Jim."

Jim couldn't resist a smirk. "Prove it."

The corner of Spock's mouth turned up ever so slightly, mirroring the smirk, and then there was a hand cupping Jim's cock through the fabric of his uniform pants. "I have observed that you have several preferred methods of releasing strong emotions: physical activity, for example."

The palm of his hand stroked Jim's hardening cock, and Jim groaned.

"Sparring is a favorite activity, as is wrestling and other forms of exercise involving close physical contact."

"You're getting closer," Jim said, panting now.

Spock unfastened the fly of Jim's pants and then that hot hand was wrapped around Jim's prick. "Am I?"

"Fuck, yes. Kiss me."

Spock stared at him a moment longer before pressing his mouth against Jim's. Jim whimpered as his head hit the wall again. Spock's strokes on his cock were firmer now, synchronized with the slide of his tongue against Jim's, and it was almost enough.

Spock broke the kiss and leaned away, eyes narrowed.

"Don't tell me you heard that."

That smirk ghosted over Spock's face for a fraction of a second, and then he dropped to his knees.

Jim grinned. "You do know me, don't you?"

Spock tugged his pants down to his knees and looked up. "I have concluded that sexual release is your preferred method of purging strong emotion."

"That it is."

Spock's lips brushed against the head of Jim's cock and Jim thrust his hips forward. "You are particularly fond of receiving fellatio under these circumstances, as well as--"

"Will you shut the fuck up and suck my cock already?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "--as well as being slightly restrained during the act. Please place your hands behind your head and do not remove them until instructed to do so."

Jim complied instantly, his grin widening even more. Spock forced his knees apart as far as they would go, essentially hobbling him with his own pants, and stared up at him.

"Now ask me to proceed. Politely."

"Suck me, Spock. Please, oh god, please."

"Better," Spock muttered. He swirled his tongue once around the head of Jim's cock and retracted the foreskin fully before taking Jim's prick in his mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah." Jim said, closing his eyes. Spock took his dick in as far as it would go -- Vulcans apparently had no gag reflexes -- and the sensation of being engulfed in that heat was nearly overwhelming. Spock's tongue was working the shaft as his lips slid up to the head, and Jim couldn't resist pressing a hand to the back of Spock's head. "You are so fucking good at this."

"I did not instruct you to move your hands."

Jim whimpered at the loss of contact. "Right. Sorry." His arms were going to ache like fuck after this, but it would be so worth it.

He clasped his hands behind his head again and watched his dick slide into Spock's mouth. That glorious tongue went back to work as Spock's fingers wrapped around the base of the shaft, stroking up against the movement of his mouth, twisting just enough. Teeth grazed the tender skin at the underside of the head of his cock, and then that tongue probed under the foreskin again and fuck but he loved that.

The hand on his shaft disappeared and after a moment two wet fingers probed between his asscheeks. Jim groaned and tried to bend his knees, but Spock's free hand held him firmly against the wall. Those fingers were moving torturously slowly, stroking and circling his hole but not quite giving him what he needed. He tried again to shift his hips to indicate what he wanted, but he couldn't move.

"Please… fucking…"

Those fingers finally pressed into him slowly while Spock's tongue flicked against the sweet spot under the head of his prick, his mouth almost slack. Jim exhaled, feeling like he was floating. The fingers pressed into him to the third knuckle before starting a slow slide out again, drawing out the sensation. Jim was almost afraid to breathe.

The fingers stopped just at the point of stretching his hole open before sliding in again, more insistently this time. The movements of Spock's tongue became firmer until he was massaging the head with the soft flat of his tongue, sucking hard as his other hand began stroking the shaft again. The intensity built slowly, and Jim forgot about the no-hands rule altogether and sank his fingers into Spock's hair.

His perception narrowed down to a pinpoint as he fucked Spock's mouth and those fingers twisted in his ass and that mouth just fucking hell worked his cock, and then he was coming. He knew he was being rough now, but he didn't care, couldn't stop himself from shoving his prick down Spock's throat, hissing a stream of expletives, and Jesus fuck it was good.

He slumped to the floor afterwards, his legs tangled in his pants. Spock sat back on his heels wearing an expression as close to satisfaction as Jim had ever seen. Jim grinned at him.

"That's a rather unorthodox way to calm down one's captain, you know."

"Sometimes extraordinary measures are required."

"Can I return the favor?"

Spock's cheeks tinted green. "It is… unnecessary at this time. Perhaps later?"

Jim pushed to his knees and pulled Spock into a kiss. "Thank you. I really needed that. I don't know why."

"It is not an unusual reaction to a life-threatening encounter. Humans often seek physical connection in order to affirm their own survival."

"Do we? That explains a lot about my life."

Spock opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to think the better of it. Jim leaned in to kiss him again.

The comm pinged. "Enterprise to Captain Kirk."

Jim sighed. Back to reality. He pushed to his feet and offered a hand to Spock. "Duty calls."

Spock allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "We are likely near the rendezvous point with the Enterprise."

They redressed and settled in the pilot seats as the comm pinged again. The Enterprise had dropped out of hyperspace and was growing larger in the viewscreen.

"Kirk here."

"The remains of Martin and Diedriksson have been beamed aboard. Dr. McCoy wants to know if either you or Mr. Spock require medical treatment?"

Jim glanced sideways at Spock. "No, we're both fine." There was a pause.

"He said to tell you 'That's bullshit' and he'll meet you in the shuttle bay." Jim could hear the smirk in Uhura's voice.

"Fine," Jim replied. "We'll be on board shortly." He switched off the comm and turned to Spock. "Do you want to pilot her in, or should I?"

"You have the helm."

"Computer…" He broke off and turned to Spock. "Are you free tonight?"

Spock's eyes narrowed. "Free?"

Jim grinned. "Come to my quarters tonight. We can have dinner and I can… return the favor."

"Command not recognized." Jim shot a glance at the comm button to make sure he'd actually switched it off. He had.

"You intend to fellate me in return, I presume?"

"Just once, I'd like to hear you say, 'Suck my cock, Jim'. Just once."

Spock's lip twitched in an almost-smile. "I am fascinated by humans' fondness for crude language during coitus."

"They're just words, Spock. Could you drop the clinical talk, for once? Computer, disengage autopilot."

"Autopilot disengaged."

Spock waited until ten minutes later when the shuttle ramp was lowering and McCoy and Scotty were in view to lean into Jim and whisper, "I would prefer for you to fuck me tonight, if possible." And he walked down the ramp, leaving Jim there with a sudden erection just as he had to face McCoy's tricorder.

He grinned. Totally worth it.

~ fin~