kathierif_fic: (fandom: star trek)
[personal profile] kathierif_fic
Title: Release.
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kathierif_fic
Fandom: Star Trek (Reboot)
Pairing: Spock/Jim Kirk
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Warnings: slash, bondage
Word Count: 1539
Summary: If the Klingons, the Romulans and the damn bureaucrats in Starfleet would form a torture committee, the result wouldn’t be as horrible - as effective - as Spock.
Author’s Notes: Written for [community profile] kink_bingo, prompt bondage (held down)



Jim hated it when he had to submit to orders that were, in his mind, stupid and contra productive for whatever he was doing at any given moment. He had always hated it, and that was one of the reasons why he'd always gotten into trouble, both with his stepfather and with others, as well.

Spock knew this.

Jim also hated passiveness. He was so full of energy and sometimes even vibrating with it, and taking control of a situation was as much in his blood as rebelling against orders he considered stupid.

Spock also knew this.

Taking both his control of a situation and his ability to move freely from Jim generally resulted in a very pissed-off Captain James Tiberius Kirk who cursed and glared and never stopped his attempts to escape from his current situation, blue eyes blazing in defiance, his jaw set stubbornly and his body squirming and bucking while trying to regain at least his physical freedom.

It reminded Spock of a wild stallion, and unwanted, the words he'd said to Doctor McCoy, so many months and years ago, rose to the forefront of his mind.

A hint of amusement filled him, and he tightened his grip on Jim's cool wrists until the skin under his fingers turned white and he could clearly feel the throb of the other man's pulse under his fingertips.

"Damn it, Spock!" Jim spit out and turned his head to the side, away from Spock's inquiring and calm gaze. He was breathing heavily from his attempts to escape, his face was flushed. His hair was sticking up wildly where Spock had grabbed him earlier, and sweat was forming along his hairline and under his arms.

He was naked - Spock had waited until Jim had taken a shower before launching his attack, and Jim had been dressed in just a towel which quickly had been dropped to the floor, halfway between the bed and the door to the bathroom, where it still was, a small heap of white cotton that stood witness to Jim's struggle.

Spock felt another wave of satisfaction run through him, and he bent down to inhale Jim's scent and to press his mouth to the smooth skin between Jim's shoulder blades. Muscles twitched, but Jim's arms were safely pinned by his sides, and there wasn't anything he could do to shake off Spock, whose knees were digging into his sides and who was pressing him relentlessly into the mattress.

Jim squirmed again, and Spock let him. He enjoyed the friction of Jim's naked body against his clothed one, and Jim's wriggling didn't threaten to break the hold Spock had on him in the slightest. It just served to deplete Jim's energy levels and made sure he would tire sooner or later.

And Spock had the time and the patience to wait for that point to come.

It took Jim exactly 58.7 minutes to cease resisting; fifty-eight point seven minutes of Spock's hands holding his wrists down and pressing his knees in Jim's sides, the contact almost painful and definitely merciless. Jim was still breathing heavily from his last attempt to escape, but his limbs were now heavy and sluggish with exhaustion when Spock tugged his hands up, over Jim's head, and grasped both of Jim's wrists in one hand.

One-handedly, Spock managed to open the fastenings of his pants and push them down far enough to reveal his cock, half-hard from the physical stimulation of Jim's wriggling. Furthermore, he retrieved a small tube of lubricant from Jim's bedside table.

Jim whimpered and turned his head in the other direction, his ears flushed red. Spock reached out in fascination and brushed his fingertips along the rounded shell before opening the lube, a task not made easier by the fact that he was still holding Jim's wrists with one hand. He poured the lube over Jim's ass and set the tube back down on the bedside table.

There was no need to waste it, after all.

Jim grunted another mouthful of colorful curses into the mattress when Spock's knee pushed his legs apart, but even the sharp tug he gave his wrists didn't make Spock release him.

He was caught, helpless under Spock's assault and unable to fight for his freedom; unable to do anything but clench his teeth to avoid giving Spock the satisfaction of hearing him scream in frustration when Spock breached his body and filled him completely, not bothering with any preparation.

He gasped for his breath desperately, his heart racing in his chest and sweat running over his body, making it slick and slippery, but it still wasn't enough to get out of Spock's grip.

Spock managed to knock his knees further apart and wormed a hand underneath Jim, to wrap it firmly around Jim's dick and giving a few rough strokes.

Jim tried to fight against it, but the stimulation of both his cock and his prostate caused a physical reaction, and he slowly started to harden under Spock's long, skillful fingers.

He bit his lip sharply, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth and helping him to focus, but he still had no way of escaping from Spock's grip.

He was completely helpless, and there was nothing he could do but take what Spock was giving him, his body betraying him as he felt the first tendons of lust and arousal curl around his body and leaving him breathless once more.

He struggled and squirmed once more; indignation and embarrassment giving him momentarily new strength, but it still wasn't enough and only served to heighten his unwanted arousal.

"Spock," he groaned again, his voice high and desperate. "Please...Spock..."

He wasn't even sure what he was begging for at this point, the release of his wrists or the release of his pent-up arousal, he just knew he couldn't remain like this for much longer.

Something had to give sooner or later.

This, he decided, was worse than any torture the Klingons or the Romulans could come up with. If the Klingons, the Romulans and the damn bureaucrats in Starfleet would form a torture committee, the result wouldn’t be as horrible - as effective - as this.

"As usual," Spock murmured into his ear, his voice smooth and velvety and not showing the slightest hint of strain, "you don't fail to be utterly overdramatic, Captain."

Jim whimpered pathetically and pushed his hips back, encouraging Spock to pick up his speed. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but when Spock's thrusts slowed down instead, he knew that he'd been one hundred percent right.

Spock was deliberately torturing him.

Hot breath ghosted along his ear in a whisper-like exhalation.

"My wish is not to...torture you," Spock murmured and brushed his thumb over the head of Jim's dick.

"Then let me go," Jim panted and squirmed again.

"No," Spock replied calmly, but he did speed up his thrusts and the rhythm of his hand, and soon, Jim was quietly gasping for air again, all thoughts forgotten for the moment. He was caught in the web of sensations Spock had created, his muscles trembling and straining against Spock's grip in his attempt to reach the pinnacle of lust, which Spock kept just out of his reach.

Jim didn't know how much time went by when Spock suddenly stilled, his breath escaping him in a big rush, the only outward sign of his orgasm.

Jim whined and strained against Spock's hold once again, and Spock nuzzled his mouth against Jim's shoulder blade before picking up the speed of his hand and finally allowing Jim to come with a soft whimper of relief, the only sound he was still capable of making.

When Jim blinked his eyes open again, he was wrapped in a soft blanket, the lights were dimmed and he felt more relaxed than he had in a long while. It had been a stressful couple of weeks, he thought, but all that was forgotten right now.

He slowly sat up and let the blanket fall from his shoulders. Deep, red bruises surrounded his wrists, like old-fashioned cuffs, and he rubbed them with a small grimace of pain.

"My apologies, Jim." Spock's voice drifted from the office area of his quarters. "I did not wish to physically harm you."

Jim shrugged and slowly came to his feet. The blanket fell down, but he didn't care about his state of nakedness as he padded over and bent over Spock, who looked as pristine and perfect as always. His fingers tangled in Spock's hair, and he pressed their lips together in a deep kiss.

"It's okay," he murmured and grinned at Spock while offering his fingers for a traditional Vulcan gesture of affection. "I needed that."

Spock bent his head slightly and touched his fingertips to Jim's. "Do you estimate that you will be able to talk to Starfleet Command in a civilized manner, then?" he asked, his eyes revealing the amusement he was feeling.

Jim chuckled ruefully. "Yeah," he murmured. "Again, thank you."

Spock's fingers brushed down the back of Jim's. "It was," he said, his face expressionless but his eyes shining with emotions, "my pleasure, as usual."

Somehow, Jim didn't doubt that for one second.

~end.
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