Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Poker, Chocolate and Definitely No Fronds	By : hutchlife Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 4218 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, and I make no money from this. It's all just for fun!

Chapter List
- 1-Poker, Chocolate and Definitely No Fronds
- 2-He's No Mind-Reader
- 1
- 2
Poker, Chocolate, but Definitely No Fronds

A/N: Shameless PWP. Graphic sex and some bad language.

“Well, nobody told me it was odd!” growled McCoy, knocking back the remainder of his scotch and looking witheringly across the table at his captain. Kirk’s eyes were watering, he’d been laughing so hard.

“Well they certainly would have, Bones,” Kirk said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, and grinning widely, “if anyone’d walked in on you,” he started laughing again, clearly imagining the scene.

“Jackass,” muttered the doctor, as he reached for the bottle, and refilled his glass. He missed slightly, and some of the alcohol splashed onto the cards that lay discarded before him on the table. Their game of poker had been somewhat forgotten as the conversation had taken a turn towards the obscene, and the deck was spread haphazardly, cards facing rebelliously up and down as they pleased. Spock still held his neatly in one hand, as if clutching valiantly to the hope that his companions might stop talking about masturbation. He was not in luck.

“S’all right,” laughed Kirk, recovering himself again, “we’ve all experimented.” He turned his gaze upon Spock, and McCoy saw the Vulcan stiffen slightly as he met the captain’s eye warily. “Come on, Spock,” smiled Kirk, slapping him on the shoulder, “Tell us something about Vulcans. There must be some weird techniques going on there,”

“My physiology, in that regard, is notably similar to your own, Captain,” answered Spock, watching Kirk closely. McCoy let out a snort, and sipped his drink. Kirk leered across the table at him, seeking out the next piece of entertainment like a bloodhound after a doe.

“What?” he asked, looking enquiringly at the doctor,

“Nothin’” answered McCoy, his tone still grumpy,

“Aw, come on, doc!” persisted Jim, taking a gulp of his drink.

“Well, all I’ve got t’say is that Mr. Spock’s physiology ain’t all that similar to mine, from what I remember of the last physical,” he grumbled. Spock arched an eyebrow at him, still holding his cards carefully,

“What? Tentacles?” laughed Kirk, “Suckers? Fronds?”

“Fronds, Captain?” intoned Spock, disparagingly. Kirk laughed,

“Nah, nothing like that,” answered McCoy, “Let’s just say that I’m sure the female crewmen might overlook his hobgoblin ears if they’d seen what I did,”

Kirk’s eyes widened, as he turned and grinned at the first officer,

“He’s packing!” he shouted gleefully. He slapped Spock on the shoulder again, and then clicked his glass against the Vulcan’s, “Well, congratulations Mr. Spock,”
Spock sighed. But nodded once in acknowledgement,

“Thank you, Captain,”

“Well, on that note,” said McCoy, standing a little unsteadily, and stepping away from the table, “I’m calling it a night. S’not all about size, you know,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door and patted Kirk’s shoulder as he passed,

“Good night,”

Kirk and Spock both intoned replies, and once the door to Kirk’s quarters had slid closed they were silent.

“I think, Captain, that I might also retire,” said Spock, finally putting down his cards. Kirk frowned and held out a hand,

“No, don’t leave yet, Spock,” he said, “Have another drink with me.”

“I’m afraid the pleasures of your alcohol are lost on me,” answered Spock, as Kirk filled the glass that sat next to his elbow.

“Have some more of that chocolate, then,” said the captain, winking at him, “I’ll get you to relax somehow, Spock,”

Spock broke off another piece of the dark bar, and bit it. Jim watched him eat it, and then after a moment’s silence, he leant forward, resting his chin upon his hand,

“So, Spock, this … this impressive package of yours,” he chuckled before continuing, “has it seen much action?”

“Are you asking me about my sexual relations, Captain?” replied Spock, sitting back in his chair, and surveying the man without any show of emotion.

“Yeah,” answered Kirk with a smile, “I mean, I know what you Vulcan’s are like about personal stuff, but we’re friends, Spock. I’m only curious. That Pom Farm thing – is that …”

“Pon Farr, Captain,” interrupted Spock, shifting a little in his seat, “It occurs every seven years.”

Kirk nodded, an expression of diligent interest on his face as he carefully smothered his grin,

“So, do Vulcan’s only … you know …?”

“No, Vulcans participate in sexual relations whenever they desire to,” answered Spock, “but the call of Pon Farr must be answered.”

“Right,” nodded Kirk, “I see. So, do you often – I mean to say, I’ve never seen you with a woman. You’re a good looking guy, in a Vulcan-y kind of way,”

“We are aboard a starship, Captain. I’m sure you understand the difficulties,”

Kirk nodded. He knocked back his drink and sat back in his seat.

“It’s been a while for me, too,” he sighed, rubbing one hand on his thigh absently. “Damned difficult when you’re on a ship light-years from anywhere, surrounded by crewmen in those skirts,”

“Perhaps you should put in a recommendation to Starfleet regarding the uniform.”

Kirk glanced at Spock, trying to assess whether he was trying to crack one of his rare jokes. Spock stared back at him mildly, but Kirk laughed all the same.

“The way I’m feeling, Spock, I’d have to recommend that all female crewmen were removed from duty all together. For their own safety.” Kirk let out a laugh, “And perhaps some of the men as well,” he added.

“If you truly feel that you are a risk to all aboard, Captain, I may have to ask Dr. McCoy to assess you.”

Kirk laughed again, and nodded, “Perhaps. Though I don’t think he’s in any state to assess anything right now.”

“Our next scheduled port may offer a resolution for your affliction, Sir,” said Spock, dropping his tone. Memories of the recreational facilities on Spaceport Epsilon 43 filtered into Kirk’s head, and he shrugged,

“Maybe,” he sighed, “Five weeks away though,” he finished in a resigned voice. Spock did not answer, and they sat in silence for a while. Finally, Kirk cleared his throat, and asked;

“Have you ever been with a man, Spock?”

Spock eyed Kirk with an alarmingly piercing gaze, and remained mute. Kirk raised an eyebrow in a parody that he was sure was not lost upon the first officer. Finally, when it was clear that the captain was not going to relent, Spock replied,

“I have, Captain. When I was younger.”

A smiled pulled at Kirk’s lips, but he attempted to keep it in check. He filled his glass again, and sat back, taking a sip,

“Tell me about it,”

Spock looked a little affronted, but Kirk had had too much to drink to allow the opportunity for further questioning to pass. Spock sighed, which made Kirk smiled even more. It was one of his more common, human, traits. Spock broke off another piece of chocolate and ate it,

“It is not uncommon for the young on Vulcan, before it is appropriate for an individual to have relations with the opposite sex, to engage in such activities with one’s friends. I was no different in this to my peers.”

“Doctors and nurses?” chuckled Kirk, “Yeah, I had a go at that too,”

“There was no medical practice involved,” answered Spock, finishing the chocolate. Kirk rolled his eyes,

“So, what about since then?”

“There have been a few occasions, Captain,” answered Spock, with a finality to his tone that, even in his somewhat inebriated state, Kirk respected.

“Well, I’ve had my fair share of man-loving,” said Kirk, and then fell into a fit of laughter at both his own candour and the turn of phrase that he had employed. When he recovered, and glanced up at Spock, he found the Vulcan looking at him with one eyebrow cocked at the outburst. Kirk almost felt his judgement physically evaporate as he leant in towards Spock, and lay a hand upon his thigh, under the table,

“What?” he asked, grin plastered on his face, “Can’t you think of any reason someone might want Jim Kirk?”

He slid his hand lasciviously up the firm thigh, and was surprised at the shot of arousal that it sent through himself. Spock cleared his throat, and Kirk was sure that he could see a faint green flush on Spock’s neck, though, of course, it could have been the chocolate. Spock moved his chair back from the table, effectively dislodging Kirk’s hand. But Kirk was unperturbed. He wasn’t sure at what point his game had turned into a full-blown man-hunt, but he felt very decided about what he did next.

Spock was rising from his chair, but Kirk quickly moved in front of him, stepping between Spock’s chair and the table edge, one foot on either side of the Vulcan’s. Spock could have easily pushed him aside, but even when it was clear that his captain was not in his right mind, he seemed to feel such an aggressive action to be undiplomatic. He sat back down, looking up into Kirk’s face with a very closed expression.

“I can think of some reasons that a person could want you, Spock,” said Kirk huskily. Bending down with a hand upon each arm of Spock’s chair, Kirk met his first officer’s lips slowly. He was surprised at how hot Spock’s lips were, though he knew he should have expected it – Bones was always making derogatory comments about the scientist’s physiology. Spock did not respond, but neither did he pull away. Kirk persisted, kissing him slowly, allowing his breath to brush the Vulcan’s face. Kirk moved his hand up the arm of the chair until he located Spock’s, which was clutching the upholstery tightly. He ran his fingers over the back of it, relishing the intimate feeling of another, and following the raised ridges of Spock’s tendons. He inched his fingers to the edge of Spock’s hand, and encouraged him to let go of the chair, kissing him all the while. Spock released his grip, and Kirk slid his fingers underneath, finding Spock’s palm to be dry and hot. As he stroked the skin gently, Spock let out a searing breath against Kirk’s mouth.

Suddenly, Spock was returning Kirk’s kiss, his lips grinding demandingly. Kirk returned the pressure, and their teeth clicked as they fought for dominance. With a thrill, Kirk felt Spock’s other hand grasp hold of the hem of his shirt. He groaned softly, but the noise seemed to break the spell. Spock suddenly pulled away and turned his face to the left, his breathing unsteady, and his hand still clutching the shirt fabric. Kirk, panting a little, stared at him, silently. Spock refused to met his eyes,

“We should stop, Captain,” he said, his voice unusually soft. Kirk blinked, pausing for a moment. Then he moved closer, brushing his lips against Spock’s jaw,

“Why, Spock?” he murmured, “You want it, I can tell. Just this once … we both need relief,”

He could feel Spock’s pulse beneath his mouth, and smell the deep, masculine scent of his skin.

“Captain,” Spock sighed, his voice vibrating through his throat, the warning tone hanging in the air.

“We can forget about it, afterwards,” whispered Kirk, trailing his kisses up Spock’s jaw, to his ear, “Pretend it didn’t happen …”

“I am compromised,” replied Spock, “The cocoa – it has affected my judgement,”

“Yeah, it’s the alcohol that’s fucked me over, Spock,” said Jim, nibbling gently at Spock’s earlobe, “We’ll have something to blame it on, I suppose.” He moved away a little, and pulled Spock’s face around. The science officer slowly raised his eyes to meet Kirk’s. “Spock, please. I want this … I want you,”

He leant forward again, and met Spock’s unresisting, lips. A moment passed, and then something in Spock’s will seemed to snap. He opened his mouth and began to kiss Kirk again, passionately. Then, without breaking away, he stood, taking hold of Kirk firmly by the upper arms, and pressing him back against the table. Spock’s lips were moving hungrily against his own, teeth clashing angrily. Kirk moaned at the intensity of it. It was awakening a part of him that he kept carefully buried and repressed during his time on the Enterprise. He raised a clammy hand to Spock’s chest, grabbing at the blue Fleet-issue shirt, and fisting it roughly, pulling his second-in-command forward, more to encourage him than affect any real movement. Spock was already as close as he could be, and the backs of Kirk’s thighs were starting to ache from being forced into the edge of the table. He heard a glass topple as Spock pushed a leg between his.

“I … I didn’t know you had this in you, Spock,” Kirk gasped as he broke away from the blazing lips to catch his breath. Spock set about mauling his neck with his mouth and teeth, but whispered fiercely,

“Stop talking, Jim,”

Kirk’s closed his mouth with a snap and hung his head back, loosing himself to the feel of another person’s attentions. It wasn’t like he’d never been with a man, though it had been a number of years. He preferred women. He relished their softness, the feel of their breasts against him. But he was not a man to turn down pleasure when it was offered to him. Spock was a handsome man – Kirk knew this as well as the next person. He’d often taken a moment to observe the Vulcan’s figure as he bent over the displays on his console, something that he felt was perfectly legitimate. But never had he expected, or perhaps dreamed, if he was honest with himself, that Spock could be this passionately intense. Vulcan emotions ran deep. That much was clear from their stormy history, and Spock had intimated as much. Kirk had always known that Spock felt as much as anyone, but he had never guessed that it might take so little to break through those painstakingly erected barriers.

Spock was ripping at his shirt, and Kirk hastily tore it over his head, eager to remove any distractions quickly, lest Spock come to his senses. The pause was, however, long enough for Kirk to meet Spock’s eyes for the first time since he had been pushed up against the table. He was astonished to see the rawness of the expression in his friend. It made him catch his breath, and sent a heavy pulse through his veins. Kirk felt his dick throb as the blood started to pool there. Without any prompting, Spock pulled off his own shirt, and cast it aside. Kirk allowed a groan to pass his lips as his eyes took in the view exposed to him; Spock was slim and well muscled, with dark hair covering his chest and stomach thinly. Kirk pulled the science officer forward again, and their lips met while the captain ran his fingers over ever inch of uncovered skin. He moaned loudly into Spock’s mouth as the Vulcan grasped the bulge in his trousers, almost too firmly. Spock rubbed his swollen dick through the rough fabric, his fingers creeping down between Kirk’s legs to cup his balls. Spock radiated heat like a furnace, and his body, pressed up closely against Kirk’s shook as if he was thrumming with energy, held barely in check.

Kirk’s pushed his hands downwards roughly, over the muscled stomach of his friend, down to the waist of his trousers. A thrill of excitement rushed through him as he felt the hard outline of Spock’s erection, and heard a groan from his otherwise silent companion. Spock’s hand closed as tightly around Kirk’s dick as his trousers would allow, and the Vulcan began stroking him firmly. Suddenly, Kirk was glad of the painful pressure of the table behind him – all the blood seemed to rush into his already throbbing erection, leaving him light-headed. Being sandwiched between the table and Spock was the only thing that was keeping him upright. Kirk tried to repay like with like, and stimulate Spock, but such a need had filled him, that he seemed incapable of coordinated movement. He felt a tingle as precome surged and leaked from his erection.

Just as the combination of the blissful stimulation to his cock, and the excruciating pressure of the unrelenting table behind him was coming to a head, Kirk felt himself pulled roughly forwards. Spock shoved him to the floor, and the following instant was there with him, kissing him. The heat was overwhelming, and the floor less than comfortable, but Kirk was glad of the sudden move – a few moments more, and he may have come in his boxers. Spock ripped the fastening of his trousers open, without removing his mouth from Kirk’s. Frantically, they both worked the trousers down over Kirk’s hips, and with a little effort, Kirk managed to kick of his boots while Spock shoved his trousers and boxers down with an uncharacteristic grunt of irritation.

Kirk almost blacked out when Spock was able, finally, to get his hand properly around Kirk’s aching dick. As it was, his head fell back with a thud against the floor, and he let out a long, loud groan. Immediately, he felt Spock’s mouth upon his throat, biting hard enough, he was certain, to leave marks. Spock murmured something in Vulcan, a complicated language that Kirk had never mastered. It sent a shiver through the captain. Spock’s hand sped up, and a powerful thumb spread precome liberally over Kirk’s swollen head. It lasted only a few minutes, before Kirk felt the beginnings of climax seeping into his conscious, he panted, and clutched at Spock’s back,

“Spock … stop, I-I’m,” he groaned, and Spock leant forward, still jerking his dick expertly,

“I want to see you climax, Jim,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and deep. The words were too much, and Kirk felt himself tip over the edge. As Spock sat back, his dark gaze dropping to his hands, and Kirk’s erection, Kirk cried out. Weeks and weeks of frustration exploded inside him, ecstasy took over, and he came. His stomach spasmed, and thick jets of semen shot from him, even as Spock continued to stroke.

Kirk panted heavily, his eyes closed. As he recovered from the orgasm, he felt Spock’s fingers running through the pool of come that covered his stomach; slowly he opened his eyes. Spock looked back at him, his eyes piercing and dark. There was no hint of a smile as he said, firmly,

“Open your legs,”

Kirk felt a surge of apprehension, knowing what was to come, but did as Spock commanded nonetheless. He pulled his knees up, and let his legs fall open, exposing himself utterly to the heavy gaze of the Vulcan. Spock, with Kirk’s come covering his fingers, lowered his hand and drew them over Kirk’s tight entrance. Kirk let out a shaky breath, and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. However, when Spock’s finger pushed past the ring of muscle, it was accompanied by a firm, yet surprisingly gentle kiss. Kirk returned it eagerly, and soon felt a second finger joining the first.

It didn’t really hurt – if anything it only smarted a little, and felt strange. It had, after all, been quite a long time. Spock’s body was hot against his own, and his kisses had grown increasingly restive. Kirk felt the Vulcan change the angle of his wrist, and suddenly a wave of pleasure rocked him; he let out a load groan, which was only partially smothered by Spock’s mouth. Spock repeated the action again and again, until Kirk’s breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. Spock added a third finger, and this time, Kirk only pushed down upon his hand harder. Finally, Spock pulled back, and sat on his heals. Kirk watched in a rapture of desire and impatience as Spock undid his flies and pulled out his cock. It was large, faintly green, and fully erect. Spock’s balls hung heavily beneath. Spock stroked himself languidly a few times, under Kirk’s lecherous gaze, and then coated himself with the remainder of the semen, before positioning himself.

“God, Spock!” Kirk cried out, as Spock finally pushed inside him. It hurt, the pain cutting through the numbness the alcohol had induced. Kirk bit back a groan of discomfort as Spock’s erection stretched him. The first few thrusts, which Spock made mercifully slowly, were quite agonising. But on the fourth thrust, Spock repositioned his hips, and hit Kirk’s prostate hard. Kirk’s head fell back, and he let out a strangled cry. After that, Kirk’s thoughts lost any recognisable train, and he relinquished himself entirely to the pounding of Spock’s cock in his arse, the heat of Spock’s body against his, and the burn of the carpet on his back. After what seemed like a lifetime, he felt the rhythm of Spock’s thrusts falter, becoming faster and less accurate. He opened his eyes, and in the dimmed light of his room, he found Spock’s face above his own. For all that it was a drunken fumble, and for all that it was only a quick release, Kirk felt something deep as he looked up at the other man. It was a humid, oppressive, and addictive feeling. He felt his throat tighten painfully, and his eyes prickled. Spock’s expression was totally undone – his brow furrowed, his eyes full of ecstasy, desire, and a sort of wonderful fear. He was giving himself over to passions that he worked his entire life to extinguish.

Spock let out a shuddering gasp, and took hold of Kirk’s cock, which he had not realised until now, was fully erect and bobbing needily against his stomach. A few strong strokes were all it took, and Kirk was flung over the edge again, spilling himself against his stomach, and over Spock’s hand. He felt Spock spasm, and the Vulcan grunted, coming powerfully inside his captain.

They lay, side-by-side, for a long while, upon the floor, staring up blankly at the ceiling. Kirk was afraid to speak. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and bring an avalanche of guilt and regret down upon both of them. He knew that he could move on from this. It would become a memory – a glorious page in his life. He could go about his business, with perhaps a few well-chosen play-on words and lingering looks to keep the memory alive. But what about Spock? Would he allow his integrity to get the better of him? Could he move on? Almost fifteen minutes passed, while Kirk sunk back to reality. And then, suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, Spock spoke,

“I fear you may need to visit Sickbay, Captain. I our interactions may cause you some discomfort for a few days,”

Kirk turned his head to the right, to look at Spock’s profile. His face was impartial as always. Kirk’s heart sank,

“Yes, thank you Spock, I will,” he answered softly, his voice hollow.

And then, something marvellous happened. A smile pulled at the corner of Spock’s mouth, and he turned to Kirk,

“I don’t know how you are going to explain your need for an antiseptic healing cream to Dr. McCoy, Jim.”

A smile spread slowly across Kirk’s face as he felt his heart soar from the pit of his stomach right up to his throat. He laughed and rubbed his face,

“No,” he chuckled, “no, neither do I, Spock.”

**********

Thanks for reading! Criticism, as always, very gratefully received!
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Poker, Chocolate and Definitely No Fronds