[Any other time, Jim doesn't think he'd even notice some of these sounds but right now the soft zzzzip of Spock's uniform trousers behind him feels like its been hooked up to a loudspeaker pointed directly at his brain. Jim doesn't have the higher brain function at the moment to be mortified by the truly needy noise he makes. They morph into something akin to coherent sounds in the affirmation to Spock's instruction, but only just.
Jim shifts on his feet, arches his hips up and back for Spock's benefit as much as he can manage in the tight space between them. He's definitely more flexible than the position offered, but with his thighs trapped somewhat together by his uniform he does the best he can.
The first sound that might be complaint ripples between them at the urging to breathe, but it's for the best Spock holds them in that limbo long enough for Jim to cave and comply. Settle down enough to relax for the touch Spock is offering him. His fingers curl against the door, nails scratching against the smooth surface with his impatience.
Jim's hunger and adoration thrum through him. The only way he can show it is in the softer laves of his tongue against the gloved fingers still working slowly in his mouth. Every other thought hangs like a curtain in the back of Jim's mind to settle over Spock as much as he wishes.]
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Jim shifts on his feet, arches his hips up and back for Spock's benefit as much as he can manage in the tight space between them. He's definitely more flexible than the position offered, but with his thighs trapped somewhat together by his uniform he does the best he can.
The first sound that might be complaint ripples between them at the urging to breathe, but it's for the best Spock holds them in that limbo long enough for Jim to cave and comply. Settle down enough to relax for the touch Spock is offering him. His fingers curl against the door, nails scratching against the smooth surface with his impatience.
Jim's hunger and adoration thrum through him. The only way he can show it is in the softer laves of his tongue against the gloved fingers still working slowly in his mouth. Every other thought hangs like a curtain in the back of Jim's mind to settle over Spock as much as he wishes.]