Tentatively, he moved deeper into Spock’s mind. Still no reaction.
Well, Kirk reasoned, as that welcoming warmth rejoiced that he was back and wrapped itself around him affectionately, if Spock can’t feel me, he’ll never know I’m here, and he said he wouldn’t mind it anyway.
And having reassured himself, he tugged Spock’s peaceful, meditative thoughts against his own like a security blanket and went to sleep.
Kirk snuck into Spock’s mind every night after that. He found himself daydreaming during slow periods on the bridge, wishing for the end of his shift when he could lie in bed and explore the Vulcan’s thoughts.
Spock slept significantly less than Kirk did and was usually awake during Kirk's explorations, meditating or working. But since Spock never reacted to his presence or said a word during the day, Kirk felt reasonably confident that his night time assignations with Spock’s subconscious were going unnoticed.
On the seventh night, Spock was sleeping again, but this time he was dreaming. Kirk could not resist the allure of seeing Spock’s dreams and let the images fill his own mind’s eye as they no doubt filled Spock’s.
…high on a cliff, Spock looks down on the red sands of a fierce but beautiful desert. The hot sun shines on his face, but it is a welcome warmth that soaks into his bones and chases away the perpetual lingering cold. His back is against a warm rock wall, and cradled against his chest is a cool body, providing delicious contrast. He tucks his bondmate snugly into the “v” of his legs and holds him close, wrapping arms around his bondmate's waist and resting his chin comfortably on his bondmate's shoulder, protecting his human’s soft skin from the hot desert rocks and wind...
Kirk pulled out of the dream, understanding perfectly what he’d seen. Vulcan. Spock was dreaming about the two of them cuddling together on a cliff on Vulcan. It was such a simple dream, almost unbearably sweet. And it completely broke his heart, because it was a sweet, simple dream that could never come true.
*****
"Well, that was exciting," Kirk said, a few days later, as he stared down at the planet on the viewscreen. "It's not everyday we have to fight a flamboyant omnipotent with a taste for frilly suits."
"Indeed." Kirk could feel Spock's eyes lingering on his chest and arms. "Captain, you appear to have torn your shirt."
"What?" Kirk looked down to see his shirt in shreds. "Oh, damn it, you're right. When did that happen?"
"I do not know," Spock answered distractedly, his eyes never leaving the tan skin visible beneath the remaining scraps of fabric.
Kirk raised his eyebrows as lust began to filter through the bond. Lust was less an emotion than a state of being and it seemed to be difficult for Spock to contain it completely. Kirk had obviously put some pounds back on in the right places. While Kirk usually didn't mind an appreciative audience, he needed to get away from that contagious feeling of desire. "I'm gonna go shower," he said and strode off before Spock could protest.
But as Kirk showered in the adjoining bathroom that connected their room, Spock’s lust refused to die down. It continued to buzz in the back of Kirk’s mind, making it clear to Kirk that Spock had not stopped thinking about him.
He toweled off and pulled on some old sweats then headed over to his desk, thinking he would get a start on the paperwork the mission would require. He took a seat and tried to concentrate on the forms in front of him.
It was futile.
There was simply no way to focus on paperwork when powerful Vulcan lust just kept growing stronger in your mind. After ten unproductive minutes, Kirk was forced to stop even pretending to work when he realized he was gripping his stylus tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
He considered banging on the wall between their quarters and telling Spock to get it under control -
- or taking a peek at what had Spock all riled up.
Kirk sat up in his chair. Would he actually be able to see Spock's fantasies? Surely not? And surely even if he could do it, did that really fall under the my mind is open to you offer that Spock had made? Fantasies were still private.
Except Spock had said that everything he was belonged to Kirk now. And he had to know that Kirk could feel all this lust and would be curious. And what would Spock fantasize about anyway?
Would he fantasize about Kirk?
Kirk's eyes went wide.
He was stretched out on his own bed and in Spock's mind less than five seconds later.
Spock drinks in the sight of his bondmate sprawled on Spock’s bed, clad only in his torn uniform shirt and his black boxer briefs. Jim is hard, cock straining against the fabric that traps it, and Spock bends down, letting his hot breath ghost over Jim’s stomach, knowing that it will feel even hotter against cool human skin.
Jim bucks up, trying to make contact, but Spock restrains him easily, pushing Jim's hips down and holding him prisoner against the mattress - not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough that his skittish mate will know that he is not allowed to escape.
Jim makes a series of unrestrained, emotional human noises that go straight to Spock’s cock. He yanks down Jim's briefs, and in one easy move engulfs Jim’s entire cock in his mouth. Vulcans have excellent muscle control, so Spock does not worry about a gag reflex but only about bringing Jim pleasure.
“Holy shit,” Kirk heard himself say aloud, as if from a distance. “Holy – holy shit. Spock is – he’s fantasizing about – can he really do that?!”
Not only was he thinking about Kirk, but Kirk could tell from the pleasure in Spock's mind that Spock was also touching himself - which meant that Spock was jacking off and thinking about Kirk.
It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing Kirk had ever experienced. It might also have been the biggest invasion of privacy conceivable, but an army of Klingons couldn’t have dragged Kirk away from Spock’s mind at this point.
Jim is seconds from coming when Spock suddenly stops. Curses stream out of Jim's mouth, and Spock quirks an eyebrow in playful reprimand, privately enjoying the colorful words and unbridled human emotion. He has no intention of letting his human suffer, however, so he reaches for the small jar he now keeps by his bed. Vulcan saliva makes a terrible lubricant, so it is only logical that he coat Jim’s cock with something more suitable and slippery.
Jim is thrashing, so Spock restrains him again, grabbing Jim’s delicate human wrists and pinning them gently, but securely, to the mattress over Jim's head. Spock straddles Jim, whose bright blue eyes widen in a beautiful show of human surprise. Slowly, he presses down, taking Jim inside him -
And Kirk forgot to breathe, because he could see the image in Spock’s head, and because he could feel that in real life, Spock was pressing his own fingers inside himself, pretending they were Kirk –
Jim is swearing again, but intersperses the invectives with words like so good and love you, which sound to Spock’s ears like beautiful Terran music. He switches from restraining Jim’s wrists to caressing Jim’s hands –
“Vulcan kisses, he’s giving me Vulcan kisses –”
– and watches the breathtaking interplay of emotions and pleasure on Jim’s face. He then pins both of Jim’s wrists with one single hand –
“Damn Vulcan strength – ”
- because he knows that what is about to do is going to overwhelm Jim’s human mind with pleasure and Jim will need to be restrained to stand it.
“ – overwhelm – oh shit, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, Spock – ”
He reaches out with one hand and touches the cool, damp forehead of his mate to meld them, to connect their minds even more deeply than their bodies. And Spock speeds up now, unable to resist the siren song of a telepathic link with his mate –
Spock’s hand was moving more quickly now, and he was still fucking himself on his own fingers –
– and he links them fully, so that they hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s pleasure, twice what either is capable of alone, and when they come, it’s together, always together -
As Spock’s orgasm ripped through Spock, aided by potent telepathic powers and stronger than a human one, Kirk arched off the bed and came, cock untouched, from the vicarious pleasure he’d just experienced through their bond.
And afterward, as Spock drifted into a lazy and contented sleep while still tethered to Kirk, Kirk lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, absently stroking Spock’s mind through their bond and wondering how one of Spock’s simple fantasies had turned into the best sex he’d ever had.
11. Warmed
“Captain Kirk - ?”
Kirk stared across the bridge at his First Officer, who was calmly manning - or was that Vulcan-ing? - his science station as if he and Kirk hadn’t shared utterly mind-blowing sex the night before.
“Captain Kirk, if I could get your signature - ?”
Okay, it hadn’t been actual sex, but Spock had decided to use Kirk as his very own personal fantasy sex slave, and frankly Kirk thought that at least warranted some kind of awkward morning-after behavior.
