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Title: If You Can’t Be With The One You Love, Honey…
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count:  6040/ ??? (30,396 so far)

Paring: K/S  (Background Uhura/Bones)
Warnings: 
Mangled Shakespeare.
Summary:
Spock has a… not all together logical reaction to Captain Kirk’s constant disregard for his own safety on away missions.
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] jademac2442  (Although I fiddled with it after she gave it back, so any mistakes are all on me!


Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4   Chapter 5 Part I Chapter 6 Pt 1


Jim’s heart was still pounding, his blood still singing with shock and arousal as he ran down the corridor with Spock at his side. Part of him was absolutely shocked that he had let things go so far with his first officer, and part of him reflected ruefully that he hadn’t had all that much choice. Jim could argue that he’d just been a participant, that Spock had overwhelmed and shocked him into such total and complete submission, but...

Well. He’d be lying. Overwhelmed, yes. Shocked? Definitely.  But neither of those things were bad.


‘This, Jim. This is mine. That is why I care.’


He hit the turbolift at the same dead run, Spock’s words still causing him to ache. Jim bit his lip.


“Spock?” Jim ventured a question, fairly certain that he wouldn’t have his head ripped off.  Spock looked up from where he calmly stood there while the lift rose, blithely wiping Jim’s semen off of his hand and onto his black shirt, ignoring the red alert klaxon. Jim’s face went nuclear, blushing so deeply and suddenly that he was dizzy for a minute.


Spock cocked his head. “Do you often feel such embarrassment after sexual congress?” He sounded like he was asking for the salt after a particularly boring diplomatic dinner.  


Jim sputtered for a few seconds. Why was he all shy maiden all of the sudden?  Another shudder rocked his ship and Jim cursed, losing his balance and crashing into Spock. When they touched, their gazes locked, and Jim knew that whatever it was that Spock was feeling, it was not easy or as calm as he looked.


“You must be more careful, Jim.” Spock set him upright and stood back, dropping his hands from Jim’s shoulders. “We have much to discuss.”


Jim heard the faint chime of the turbolift, signifying that they had arrived on the bridge. He just nodded, turning and stepping away from Spock’s heat, ignoring how much he didn’t want to.


“Captain on the Bridge!”


“Report!” Jim looked around, taking in all the details he could as quickly as he could. Sulu’s console was on fire, and he was busy dragging Chekov away from the flames. One of the backup crew members slid into Chekov’s seat, looking determined. Chekov was not moving. Nyota was hanging on to her station, bracing herself so that she was not dislodged by the next explosion. The ship was wracked by another shudder. Sulu, having moved Chekov to safety, slid back into his seat. Jim staggered, painfully barking him shins on the metal railing, before he slid into his own chair.


“‘O, what men dare do! What men may do! What men daily do, not knowing what they do?’" The slightly accented voice of General Chang was loud over the speakers. “Dear Captain, I do regret that our time together was so brief. ‘Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done, is done.’”


Jim rolled his eyes.


This guy was some piece of work. Not only batshit insane, but with the added extra special bonus of murdering Shakespeare for his own amusement. It sure as fuck wasn’t for anyone on his bridge’s.


“Uhura!”


“Transmitting only, sir. I’ll try to put him on screen. On your mark, Captain.”


“Great. If he’s talking to us then hopefully he won’t be shooting at us. Talk to me, folks.” Jim heard the doors swish open and Bones enter, already barking orders. He went straight for Chekov and Jim tuned him out, needing to focus on something that he could accomplish.


“I have the specifics from Ensign Chekov’s observations from earlier; however, scans show no vessels in the vicinity. Most perplexing.”


Despite everything, Jim grinned at Spock’s last comment. Only Spock.


“Scans show that there is an enormous amount of neutron radiation, sir.”


“Pike said that they were cloaked. Is there a way to get a specific read on the radiation?”


“Negative. Not at this time.”


“Right. Okay, you work on that. Okay, Uhura. Showtime.”


“Aye, sir.”


Jim ignored Bones’ swearing, the slightly panicked voices around him (not from his normal bridge crew, but the normal beta shift crew members) the smoke and leftover sparks that still occasionally shot from various consoles. He crossed his legs and straightened his shoulders, waiting patiently.


“Captain.” Uhura’s voice was calm.


“General Chang. Pleasure to see you again. I would offer you the usual diplomatic bullshit, but I have a feeling that we’re moved beyond that.”


“Captain Kirk. You have something of mine.”


Jim smirked. “Shame you blew up the moon then, isn’t it.” Jim tsked under his breath, watching as the General’s eye narrowed.


“‘Tarry a little, there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; I shall have my pound of flesh, Kirk.’”


Jim sighed. “Seriously. If you’re going to butcher the Bard then please do it in Klingon so I won’t have to understand it. The line is ‘he words expressly are "a pound of flesh.’” Jim sucked on his teeth, trying to be as abrasive as possible. “You orchestrated things so that this crew would look incompetent, tried to get your hands on
my ship, and willingly blew up the main energy production facility for your own people to get the material for your new cloaking device. I have a feeling that when you go home that you won’t exactly be Mr. Popularity.”

Chang raised his fist, and another explosion rocked the ship.


“Shields at 69%, Captain!” The Ensign that had taken over for Chekov sounded like he was about to crap himself. Jim made a mental note to have more sim training. He didn’t want someone to freeze when the whole ship was counting on them.


“How is your command going to take this when they see what you sacrificed? What honor is there in that, General?”


Predictably, Chang fired again. Jim made a slashing motion with his left hand, and turned. Uhura nodded, signifying that she’d killed the signal.


“Come
on guys. Give me something. She’s out here somewhere. I don’t even know what the hell to shoot at!” Jim turned to Spock, only to blink in shock. Chekov was there, looking groggy, bent over his console with Spock. Spock was staring at him in concentration as they worked over Chekov’s calculations. Bones was staring at the young ensign, arms crossed over his chest, scowling darkly, clearly overruled. Jim spared a thought for Chekov. When they got out of this, he’d have to remember the Andorian muscle cream. He had a feeling Chekov was gonna need it after refusing Bones’ medical orders.

“I can see you Kirk. Can you see me? Now be honest, Captain, warrior to warrior. How do you expect this to end? Give me what I need. If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? I am constant as the Northern Star, Captain."


“Jesus jumped-up Christ, I’d give real money if he’d shut the fuck up.”  Bones’ muttered just loud enough that everyone could hear him.  The ship was rocked once again as they took a direct hit.

Jim stood up, barking orders for auxiliary power to be diverted to shields. With Scotty out of commission, he didn’t want to swear on their current shield power taking more than three more hits.

 Jim thought furiously, what they needed was time. He had to find some way to stall.


“Chekov, you said that you weren’t sure where their Kellenite was transported.”  JIm thought furiously, sickingly aware that they were down one miracle-out-of-the-ass-pulling Chief Engineer. Their shields were good but they couldn’t take much more of this.


“No, sir. I believe they think we have it.”


“You’re
sure we don’t, right.”

“Aye, sir. It would have been impossible to get such a wast amount onto our ship without clearing out the cargo hold.”


Shit that was right. They still had those supplies to deliver. “Uhura, give me control down here.”

Jim sat back down, leaning over the arm of his chair to check something with the computer. He didn’t spare a thought for he was trying to do, taking a deep breath to center himself. He punched the key that allowed him to be broadcast to the Klingon ship.  He took a deep breath and arranged his face to look dejected, as though Chang had won some concession. “General. I have the coordinates of your Kellenite. Warrior to SuvwI', I need your word that my ship will not be harmed.”

Chang couldn’t control the fierce glare of satisfaction. “Captain, I am sure that you understand why I feel the need for a little more security than that.  I can swear to you on the blood of my
vav no'  that your ship will not be harmed while you accept our hospitality. Your Giotto assured us that your honor was to be trusted.”

There wasn’t a sound on the bridge. Jim could almost feel the weight of Bones and Spock’s gaze as Chang waited for him to either accept or decline his offer.


“General, I accept. Sulu, lower our shields.”


Captain?!”


“You heard me, Lieutenant.”


There was a beat of silence while Sulu gulped and nodded once, entering the sequence. Jim stood up, his heart thudding so hard that he thought for a second it would be visible as it beat in his chest.

He didn’t let one spec of his sudden apprehension show in action or in the line of his body, knowing that if he showed any weakness then his little charade would be up. Jim nodded once to Chang’s image, turning to look at his officers. “Spock, you have the c--”


Jim  only had time for a quick breath before he felt the familiar swirl of a transporter beam. In the instant that he left he managed to meet Spock’s eyes. Spock stood there as stiffly as normal, a furious heat in his brown gaze as he watched, unblinking as Jim disappeared.


Again.



Jim had been in a lot of jails in his time. They were not exactly known for their opulence or splendor, but this was particularly uncomfortable. There was very little space in the brig. Jim hadn’t even bothered to test the strength of the security forcefield.  He figured anything that would hold a Klingon would fry him into a pile of ash if he tried to fuck with it.  And the smell. Zefram’s blessed butthole, it reeked worse than Tellarite stag party after a three day bender. Jim had tried, quite unsuccessfully, for several hours to only breathe through his nose, but that hadn’t worked for long. Now, he was afraid his nasal passages were permanently scarred.

The other annoying thing about jail was that it gave him time to think. Jim made himself as comfortable as he could, stretching out on the cold metal slab that passed for a bunk. The first thing that was going to happen was that Spock was probably going to kill him, with an inventive assist by Bones. Hell, this would probably be the thing that brought them together and allowed the two to realize how much they had in common.


Which was kind of depressing, actually.


He hadn’t known what else to do. The shields had been faltering. They didn’t know what the hell to shoot at, so they couldn’t return fire. Jim had no doubts that Spock and Chekov could figure out anything if they had enough time.


So Jim stalled.  


When they’d first beamed him aboard, he had given them the coordinates of a spot near Praxis. It wasn’t even a moon really. More like a really large asteroid. The Klingon ship could not move quite as quickly as the Enterprise could, so Jim had quickly estimated that they had approximately two days to figure something out.


Which gave him about five hours left.


Chang had been down to see him once, offering to share a meal together. Jim stretched crossing one ankle over the other, thinking that if he really
was one to give a shit about the metals that Starfleet tended to pin onto its officers, that meal alone should have earned him one.  Chang had been almost giddy. The food had been ... squirmy.... and Jim had been forced into his charade of not showing any weakness- not letting up even for a moment.  Shakespeare was now completely ruined for him.

Dining on barely-subdued barbed insults with a power-hungry dictator of a Klingon while he butchered Richard the Third was it’s own special brand of Hell.


Somehow he knew that he had gained some modicum of respect by offering himself as a trade.

Giotto had said that they wanted to get their hands on his baby, and Jim had placed it just out of reach. The rest was up to Spock.


Spock.


Jim felt a jolt of awareness tightening his body and sucked in a sharp breath. Even thinking about Spock had that effect on him. In this cell, alone with his thoughts, he could finally admit that he’d been thinking about Spock for quite awhile. It wasn’t like he could pinpoint the day. Just one day Jim had the rather uncomfortable realization that he really
meant the flirting.

Not that Spock had realized he was flirting of course.


Things had been kind of forced into happening by Giotto’s sabotage. Spock had finally
reacted, and oh God that loss of control was amazing. Jim licked his lips. Maybe he should be freaking out a little more about the fact that Spock had a dick. Jim could remember back to their rushed time together with almost perfect clarity. He knew that he defiantly didn’t feel disgusted by Spock’s dick. In fact, he--

“You. Come with me.”


Jim blinked for a moment, surprised that the UT wasn’t translating. Chang’s warriors seemed rather more familiar with Standard than most traditionally standoffish, insular Klingons. Jim sighed, moving so that they could cuff his hands behind his back.


“Move it, round-head!”


“No reason to get insulting.” Jim beamed at the guard, mostly because it was guaranteed to piss him off, and stood back from the forcefield so that he wouldn’t accidentally burst into flame if he touched it.  There was the familiar click of the titanium cuffs clicking onto his wrists and a few minutes later, Jim was walking down several corridors.


“Ah, Captain. Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.”


Jim nodded. “True, General. That is... quite apt.”


“How delightful.” Chang moved to the left, revealing the viewscreen. It was a jolt to see Spock staring at him, his face impassive except for the small twitching muscle in his jaw. Chekov and Sulu both were visible as well, their faces slightly less impassive. “Your First officer wishes to converse with you before we conclude our business.”


“Captain.”


Jim resisted the urge to wave at him. “Hello, Commander. We about done here?”


“Indeed. We are about to a large supply of the mineral over to General Chang’s vessel as soon as you have been returned to the Enterprise.”


They were? Huh. Jim fought to keep his surprise off of his face. Either Spock had pulled an obscene amount of a unique mineral out of his ass, or he was bullshitting.  

Right.


“Enterprise, you will transfer our Kellenite. Immediately.” General Chang almost sounded bored. He was fiddling with the same sort of weapon Giotto had bragged about- the prototype cross between a disruptor and a phaser. “We will then beam your captain over to your ship. “


Spock was silent for a moment. He nodded. “Very well.”


Jim began to clue into the fact that shit was about to start going down. Spock was
never that complacent.  He tensed slightly, watching Spock’s eyes.

“Excellent!” Chang barked an order in Klingon and Jim heard a a whining sound, indicating that they were decloaking. He didn’t have time to react before he heard the familiar chime of the transporter.

Jim’s eyes widened, but couldn’t  raise his arm to defend himself as Chang cursed, turning and firing.

Jim materialized on the familiar transporter pad, gasping for air.

“I got ‘im!
Shields damn yer bloody hides!!”

Jim staggered off of the transporter when the ship began to shudder, almost seeming to ripple with the force of the explosion. He fell to his knees and just slumped there, gaping rather stupidly up at Scotty as the engineer gripped the transporter console with a grimace, bracing himself through the ship’s shudders.


Even with the chaos, Jim felt it when his girl jumped to warp. He sagged with relief, pulling himself up to his feet by rocking back on his heels.


“Well hi there, Scotty. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”


“Aye. McCoy fixed me up. Good to see you too, sir. Don’t you be worryin’ none, sir. I’ll have those cuffs off of y’inna jiff. Been on a bit of a vacation?”


“Something like that.”


Scotty laughed as the doors
wooshed open.

Jim winced, turning to see which one of them was going to kill him first.  It was Bones, scowling darkly.


“Uh- I don’t suppose it would help to tell you that I’m fine? Other than having to eat some really disgusting tentacled worm things?” Bones’ lips were almost bloodless with anger.


“I am confining you to your quarters. You are Off. Duty. For at least--”


“Now, Bones. I can’t do that. I’m fine, man. I just need some sleep.” Jim eyed the hypospray that Bones clutched, white-knuckled, in his hand with some trepidation.


“Captain. I believe the Commander wanted to see you as well.”


Jim turned to look at Scotty when the other man spoke and yelped, slapping his hand to his neck as Bones pounced.


Jim felt the whole room tilt. “That was... damn... sneaky....” He gasped as he tilted forward, blacking out almost immediately.


Fuckin' Bones.


When Jim woke, it was to an exquisitely wet suction to the tip of his cock. Jim grunted in surprise, opening his eyes wide in the almost complete darkness.  He was not in his quarters. A strange, reddish light permeated the room, as though a fireplace was glowing softly just out of eyesight. The mouth on his cock rewarded his surprise my moving down, impossibly slow, before sucking again. Jim tried to bring down his hands to bury themselves in that smooth cap of hair, but his shoulders gave a painful jerk, and Jim realized that he was tied up. He had a horribly confused moment of wondering exactly where he was, before reason managed to squeak past the fog that was currently filling his brain.

He could feel a tongue swirling around his length, sliding wetly over his heat, lapping at the precome that had to be dripping from the tip of his cock.


“S-spock Is that... Is that you?”


The mouth left him with a lewd pop of sound, leaving his cock waving indignantly in the warm air of the room.


“You tend to have very perverse dreams, Jim.” Spock’s voice sounded almost bored, as though he were giving a shift report. Jim shivered, moving his legs so that he could see Spock more clearly. No. He was not dreaming. Spock was really lounging on the bed, fully dressed, his mouth a little swollen from his intimate kisses.


Jim felt himself grow even harder at the sight. “Why am I tied up? I never pegged you for the kinky type.” It was hard to sound blasé  when you felt like your entire soul was about to explode out of your cock.


Spock’s eyebrow raising to quite that height should have been as sexy as it was. “I am quite interested in knowing who you were expecting- if not myself”. There was a beat of silence. “You are tied up because it is my wish to do so. You leave my presence with alarming regularity, and I wish to be certain that you will not, ‘wander off,’ to use the Terran colloquialism.” Jim glanced down at his thighs and legs, still encased in his startfleet sweats. Jim realized that Spock had just arranged things so that he could get to what he wanted and bit his lip, darting a glance up at Spock’s face.

“So, on a scale from one to .. oh... ten, how pissed are you?”

Spock got up and left him without a word.


“Pretty pissed, then.” Jim shook his arms, realizing that he was tied to Spock’s bed, in Spock’s quarters. He braced his feet on the bed, ignoring the way his cock seemed to be still vying for attention. He absolutely didn’t lick his lips at the way he could still see the wetness from Spock’s mouth still gleaming on his skin.


He gave his arms an experimental jerk, testing the strength of the bonds. These weren’t the Klingon cuffs- but something else, geared more towards play than actual imprisonment. He quickly saw that he could free himself quite easily, and realized that Spock was giving him an out. A very easy, non-confrontational out.


It really wasn’t much of a decision, to be quite honest.


Still, now that he was awake, he was kind of hungry.  As though to confirm this, his stomach gave a little growl. “Computer, private communication with Doctor McCoy, audio only.” It wouldn’t do for Bones to see his cock out, still more than half hard, poking up, still hopeful.


“Negative. Communications have been disabled from Deck 5, room 3F 123 per the directive of CMO McCoy and Commander Spock.”


Damn that smug computer. This was just like the cuffs- he could get free if he really desired to.  He was the captain. If he
really wanted to, he could override the communication lockdown.

Jim found that he had no desire to do so.


He wasn’t quite twiddling his thumbs while he waited for Spock to return, but he did cross his ankles and do his best to make himself comfortable. He was mentally recalculating algorithms when he heard the doors swish open. A fine shiver went over his body and he pushed himself up with his feet so that he was sitting up, with his back against Spock’s headboard. This caused his sweats to scootch down over his ass, but at least his body had calmed down. Jim was able to cross his legs as he waited. He kicked the sweats completely off,  leaving himself naked.


And waited.


And waited some more. He could hear Spock typing in his main room, separated from Jim by a very short distance and a thin partition.


“Spock?”  He meant for his voice to sound authoritative. Jim was shocked when the one syllable came out more tentative and unsure than anything else.


‘Yes, Captain?”


“I.. uh.’ Jim’s mind stalled. He slumped a little on the bed. “Can you fill me in on what happened after I beamed over to the Klingon ship?”  Jim didn’t hear Spock move, but all of the sudden, he was standing there in the bedroom area, looking completely emotionless.  


“Captain, would you say that I am in full command of all my mental faculties?”


This was so not what Jim was expecting to discuss. The slight naughtiness of what he was doing, of the position he woke up in began to bleed to embarrassment.  It wasn’t the first time that Jim Kirk had tried something a little kinky- but it
was the first time he’d lost all his confidence while doing so.


Next Part...
(Is there some magic, secret way of quickly formatting from ms word to lj? For some reason it always adds all this coding gobbeitygook that just IRKS THE FUCK OUT OF ME. I AM IRKED. IRKED!)

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