[When Jim moves it's all at once, his gaze never leaving Spock for an instant. There's the scrape of his chair against the floor, the thud of his hands both pushing back against the desk so suddenly he sloshes a bit of his decaf over the rim of his mug without noticing even a little bit.
He circles around from behind the desk in a couple long strides. Expression unreadable but intent.
Jim's fingers brush against the door controls to lock them milliseconds before his other hand fists into Spock's shirt beneath his leather jacket and shoves him up against the now-locked door. He follows in the same movement, crowding up against his younger bondmate. Rocking right up onto the balls of his feet so he can press a searing kiss onto Spock's big dumb face right this second.
He will not be taking questions or criticisms at this time verbally.]
[ the thought that spock might question or criticize verbally at this time is absolute nonsense. he spends the period while jim moves staring back at him, watching unblinkingly, and as soon as jim's fingers brush the door panel, spock realizes.
the time between that and jim's next actions is insufficient for spock to brace himself for the impact but he finds it difficult to care about that when jim's in his space, pressed against him, kissing him with so much need that the heightened transference jim always exudes is completely unnecessary for spock to understand the assignment, as it were.
no more encouragement is needed for spock to press into the kiss and match jim's want, to plant a hand at his nape and hold him there, the leather of his gloves cool in comparison to the usual heat of his touch, while the other grips at his waist and yanks him closer. if this is how jim desires to spend this part of their reunion, spock has no complaints.
(and if he enjoys being the one pressed bodily against a flat surface this time, who could blame him?) ]
[Well he did make a mess of his coffee. Later he'll get that. Just like later he'll apologize for being so forward and later he'll ask about what the hell is up with this outfit and Spock's hair and everything else Jim is absolutely entranced by in this moment. The hand that had been fisted in Spock's shirt slips out from between them to both let Jim press up more flush against Spock's body and for him to balance himself by planting it against the door behind Spock.
The other is reaching up to bury itself into the Vulcan's wind ruffled hair to muss it further. It feels like it takes no time at all to Jim at all for his breath to come out heavier, shuddering when he pulls back to breathe. But not before nipping at Spock's lip with his teeth on the retreat.]
Your fingers are going in my mouth. Gloves on or off?
[ that's true. it is, but at the same time spock is distracted enough that it seems far off right now. instead he hooks an ankle around jim's calf, holding him there like there's even the slightest chance he'd try to escape.
by the time jim draws back to speak there's a green flush high on his cheeks and his breath comes a little shorter.
the question gets a slight widening of his eyes, pupils visibly retracting to slits before going even more blown than before, but spock doesn't answer verbally. instead he swallows hard and lifts his hand to catch the tip of the glove at his middle finger between his teeth and tug it to free his hand, cupping jim's jaw afterward and running his thumb along his lower lip before presenting two bare fingers to him. ]
[The scent of the leather still clings to Spock's skin and Jim can't help but moan softly, low, in the back of his throat. He looks just so goddamn wrecked when Spock cups his cheek despite the relatively short time Spock has been within his office.]
Yeah....goddamn, yeah... Want to feel what you feel--
[Every word traced out against Spock's fingertips. Jim's tongue peeks out to lap at the tips first, his eyes dark with his want as he flits them up to lock with Spock's own. Only once he's made direct eye contact does he lean forward to take the digits as deep into his mouth as Spock can reach. His tongue works over each lovingly. Worshiping him in ways only Jim can.]
[ jim is always incredibly attractive, but there's something about him like this that heightens it, that drives heat through spock's veins until he feels as though he too will come undone so quickly.
his fingers flex minutely as jim's tongue teases them, but the way he takes them in to the base immediately afterward is what drags a shaky breath out of him, what has him giving a gentle squeeze with the hand still at his nape and he lets out a low moan.
the feeling is electric, has pleasure zinging through him, has his voice low and a little rough when he speaks. ]
I have not seen you this eager in some time.
[ as he says it, he feeds jim some of the sensations he's bringing spock through their bond and draws his fingers back before pressing them in again, pads gliding along his tongue. ]
[That moan by itself is almost enough to make Jim shudder. By the time Spock actually feeds him back some of the sensations Jim's giving him, Jim's fingers buried in Spock's hair tighten into a fist. He groans long and low around the digits invading his mouth, color high on his cheeks.
Spock's right about all of it. Jim hasn't gotten this hard this fast in a long damn time.]
Nnnh~!
[Nodding minutely. Agreement to the sentiment though obviously he can't explain like this. He turns his attention to bobbing his head in time with the thrust of those long fingers into his mouth.]
[ spock tilts his head not to escape jim's hold but to feel the tug against his scalp, a shuddering breath escaping him as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of jim's mouth, meeting his bobbing movements halfway and watching him with rapt attention.
he continues to feed jim the pleasure too, even as he shifts his stance to brace himself against the door so that jim can easily lean against him, spock's knee a steady balancing spot between his thighs.
because he moans again, loosening the mental hold on just how much of the sensation he allows through their connection, flush running down his neck and disappearing under his collar.
he keeps his head tilted to watch, sliding his free hand forward to cup jim's jaw, to press his thumb experimentally to jim's cheek and put on a little pressure until he can feel it against the fingers in his mouth. another shudder runs through him for the act, his breath coming shaky. ]
You are—
[ he trails off: he's not even sure what word to even try to use and describe what he looks like right now. instead spock grants him an image of how slick his thighs already are. ]
[The ankle still hooked around his calf locks him against Spock's body. The knee sliding between his thighs acts as stability. Drool leaks out of the corner of his mouth at the near-withdrawal of Spock's fingers every time and he couldn't care less. The free hand that approaches his face Jim moans even louder for, thinking at first Spock is going to meld with him, just like this.
The other sensation proves to be also hot as hell. Watching Spock fuck himself up with some tactile play is never not the most attractive thing Jim's ever seen. At the next pass, Jim jerks forward and takes Spock's fingers as deep as he can again, swallowing around them and doing his best to suck them clean as he draws back.
Spock shares the sense of his own arousal. Jim, unskilled, psi-null, and with his mouth very much too full to Speak, attempts to focus despite the fog of lust he's in. To imagine Spock shoving him up against the door, still fully clothed, and fucking him senseless right here. The Where isn't as important as him just keeping this goddamn outfit on in the moment.
But if he's not really able to get the thought across he is going to whine sooner or later to beg for it aloud.]
[ despite jim's skill being utterly untrained, it's enough to get the point across, to have spock pause as he takes in every detail jim is able to offer, how the clothing really is the impetus of the nature of their encounter.
he shudders, dragging his fingers out of jim's mouth fully, briefly curling them to hook at the backs of his lover's teeth before releasing him entirely. ]
Here.
[ low, throaty, but pointed. he doesn't wait, though, so it come across more as a warning than a command: he shifts them all at once, using his strength and speed to give jim exactly what he wants: he flips them and slams jim against the door, pins him there by the nape, then leans up against his back from behind. only then does he move that hand so he can present his fingers to jim's mouth again (this one still gloved, both because he needs to focus and because the bare one is his dominant one), pressing a kiss behind his ear followed by another to his now-bared nape. ]
I did not realize you would be this affected by my clothing.
[ still low, but he's clearly willing to provide: his weight is what keeps jim in place as his free hand slips around to jim's front so he can squeeze his cock through his pants, then start to work at his fly.
(he's hard himself, his lok having slipped free inch by inch over the past few moments, but he can worry about that in a moment.) ]
too flabbergasted by cursed foodstuffs to notice you replied, oops
[Jim's teeth graze Spock's fingers lovingly when he pulls them free. He shudders for the little tug that hooking at the back of his teeth but it won't stop him from stuttering out a,]
P...please, Spock--
[Lost in the warning and the collective groans of both of them as Jim finds himself pivoted on the spot and slammed up against his own door.]
Fffffuck--!
[The gloved hand at his nape, pinning his face against the comparatively cool surface so carefully. Spock's heat settling over him like a blanket, his scent mingling with the jacket and their own heightening arousals. It's all so much. His mouth falls open when Spock offers him the gloved digits this time, muffling the truly wrecked noises he makes as Spock mouths both along the back of his ear and his nape.
He nods shakily as if it weren't obvious. Bucks his hips shamelessly into Spock's hand. Jim's almost vibrating with his want by this point. Dizzy for the faint sound of rustling leather. The glimpse of Spock's phaser holster-strap at his thigh when Jim looks down to where his fiance is stealing away into Jim's pants.
All noises are urgent and eager, as is the tongue slowly forcing Spock's fingers to spread in his mouth by laving in between them.]
[ even with the gloves on, the way jim sucks at his fingers so desperately hits spock right at his core, his heart pounding in his side as he snakes his hand beneath layers of fabric, curling still-damp fingers around jim's cock to pump it a few times, distracting, before he draws back just enough to pop the button of his own fly, unzipping it after, his forehead resting between jim's shoulder blades so he can watch between them, fingers in his mouth spread invitingly to make space for his tongue. ]
Spread your legs.
[ as best as he can still mostly clothed, at least. while Spock would generally prefer not to soil their clothing as thoroughly as this, he finds he lacks the ability to care at the moment. drawing his lok free of layers of fabric makes him suck in a sharp breath, and he yanks jim's pants and underwear down just enough to give him access. he strokes his own arousal slowly to slick up his fingers (obscene, filthy—) because no matter how much jim wants it, spock won't do this without preparing him first. ]
Breathe, ashayam.
[ the words are thick on his tongue, his own patience wearing thin. once he's sure jim is focused enough to do so, he starts to press the first finger into him. ]
[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.]
[ spock is unrelenting like this, but still as measured as possible for jim's sake. he keeps track of his lover's reactions as he starts to truly work him open, fingers still slowly pumping in and out of his mouth, just now in time with how the fingers of his other hand move, one and then two, as slow as he's able to force himself to be with jim so desperate, responsive, and expressive.
he doesn't speak, just acts, lips brushing his nape again, his ear, teeth catching the rounded shell of it as his eyes watch jim's fingers curl where they rest. it's taking all of his self-control at this point to keep steady: finally, he thrusts both fingers inside jim and curves them, aiming to press where he knows will make jim even more reactive, to drag fingertips along sensitive nerves with well-practiced precision. but before he can move on— ]
[As ever, being quiet in bed is not something Jim is skilled at. Even with his mouth full he groans for each of the tender kisses. For the fingers pumping in and out of his mouth and then from behind as well. Preparing him for more. His hips rock backward into each and every one of Spock's thrusts, his cock bobbing untouched before sliding against the door weeping and flushed when he rocks back forward again.
Even if Spock couldn't hear Jim's breathing (or lack thereof) he can tell where Jim's at by the degree of fuzziness in the man's constant feedback threading through the bond between them.
Doesn't stop Jim from making a short, petulant sound of complaint around the deep breaths through his nose though.
He's going to be clawing at the goddamn door the second Spock hones in and starts rubbing over his prostate. Choking on Spock's fingers just briefly before he goes after them with even greater desperation. All sense of holding back evaporates while his lover plays Jim like a musical instrument. He'll breathe if Spock wants him to, but the only sense Jim focuses on is Now.
A litany. A mantra. A prayer if that's what it takes.]
Edited (hit enter too early) 2025-07-03 19:30 (UTC)
[ by the time jim reaches that point spock's forehead is planted at the center of jim's back again, eyes lidded but open watching as his fingers—
—now hits like a bolt of lightning and he finally relents, taking yet another shaky breath and nodding where he rests so jim can feel the movement. he moves quickly after that, keeping his fingers in jim's mouth as he withdraws the other hand, taking only as much time as is necessary to position them both so that he can rock his hips forward, sinking slowly but smoothly inch by inch into his bondmate until they're flush against one another.
jim is so hot around him despite their actual temperature disparity being the opposite that he moans, a low, wrecked thing muffled against the older man's back before he finally, finally starts to move.
no one has ever so thoroughly ruined spock as jim always does, much less when they've barely started. ]
[Just like the zipper had, the slide of leather over itself echoes in Jim's ears even over his own whines or Spock's reverberating, low moans that are usually what make Jim's toes curl. The Vulcan's voice is still hotter than sin, but that outfit.
He can't see it now, but the scent of leather is still heady, especially with Spock's gloved fingers working in Jim's mouth. Jim can feel the brush of Spock's bangs against his shoulders and remembers that ruffled windswept look he'd walked in with. Jim's whole body caresses Spock covetously with the memory. With how the jacket hung open, Spock's tits were full ass on display. Jim can't stop thinking about it. The look of him, his usual prim and proper lab coated boyfriend looking ruffled and rugged and--the leather the rub of leather and the smell of it and the feel of that stretch and connection--
Jim's thoughts melt together as he's pushed up against the door again. He moans around Spock's fingers but does shudder through a deep breath through his nose lest Spock Stop now of all times.
He wants his love to know just how goddamn hot he looked waltzing into Jim's office. How Jim's cock jumped at the sight of him. All of it.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He circles around from behind the desk in a couple long strides. Expression unreadable but intent.
Jim's fingers brush against the door controls to lock them milliseconds before his other hand fists into Spock's shirt beneath his leather jacket and shoves him up against the now-locked door. He follows in the same movement, crowding up against his younger bondmate. Rocking right up onto the balls of his feet so he can press a searing kiss onto Spock's big dumb face right this second.
He will not be taking questions or criticisms at this time verbally.]
no subject
the time between that and jim's next actions is insufficient for spock to brace himself for the impact but he finds it difficult to care about that when jim's in his space, pressed against him, kissing him with so much need that the heightened transference jim always exudes is completely unnecessary for spock to understand the assignment, as it were.
no more encouragement is needed for spock to press into the kiss and match jim's want, to plant a hand at his nape and hold him there, the leather of his gloves cool in comparison to the usual heat of his touch, while the other grips at his waist and yanks him closer. if this is how jim desires to spend this part of their reunion, spock has no complaints.
(and if he enjoys being the one pressed bodily against a flat surface this time, who could blame him?) ]
no subject
The other is reaching up to bury itself into the Vulcan's wind ruffled hair to muss it further. It feels like it takes no time at all to Jim at all for his breath to come out heavier, shuddering when he pulls back to breathe. But not before nipping at Spock's lip with his teeth on the retreat.]
Your fingers are going in my mouth. Gloves on or off?
no subject
by the time jim draws back to speak there's a green flush high on his cheeks and his breath comes a little shorter.
the question gets a slight widening of his eyes, pupils visibly retracting to slits before going even more blown than before, but spock doesn't answer verbally. instead he swallows hard and lifts his hand to catch the tip of the glove at his middle finger between his teeth and tug it to free his hand, cupping jim's jaw afterward and running his thumb along his lower lip before presenting two bare fingers to him. ]
no subject
Yeah....goddamn, yeah... Want to feel what you feel--
[Every word traced out against Spock's fingertips. Jim's tongue peeks out to lap at the tips first, his eyes dark with his want as he flits them up to lock with Spock's own. Only once he's made direct eye contact does he lean forward to take the digits as deep into his mouth as Spock can reach. His tongue works over each lovingly. Worshiping him in ways only Jim can.]
no subject
his fingers flex minutely as jim's tongue teases them, but the way he takes them in to the base immediately afterward is what drags a shaky breath out of him, what has him giving a gentle squeeze with the hand still at his nape and he lets out a low moan.
the feeling is electric, has pleasure zinging through him, has his voice low and a little rough when he speaks. ]
I have not seen you this eager in some time.
[ as he says it, he feeds jim some of the sensations he's bringing spock through their bond and draws his fingers back before pressing them in again, pads gliding along his tongue. ]
no subject
Spock's right about all of it. Jim hasn't gotten this hard this fast in a long damn time.]
Nnnh~!
[Nodding minutely. Agreement to the sentiment though obviously he can't explain like this. He turns his attention to bobbing his head in time with the thrust of those long fingers into his mouth.]
no subject
he continues to feed jim the pleasure too, even as he shifts his stance to brace himself against the door so that jim can easily lean against him, spock's knee a steady balancing spot between his thighs.
because he moans again, loosening the mental hold on just how much of the sensation he allows through their connection, flush running down his neck and disappearing under his collar.
he keeps his head tilted to watch, sliding his free hand forward to cup jim's jaw, to press his thumb experimentally to jim's cheek and put on a little pressure until he can feel it against the fingers in his mouth. another shudder runs through him for the act, his breath coming shaky. ]
You are—
[ he trails off: he's not even sure what word to even try to use and describe what he looks like right now. instead spock grants him an image of how slick his thighs already are. ]
no subject
The other sensation proves to be also hot as hell. Watching Spock fuck himself up with some tactile play is never not the most attractive thing Jim's ever seen. At the next pass, Jim jerks forward and takes Spock's fingers as deep as he can again, swallowing around them and doing his best to suck them clean as he draws back.
Spock shares the sense of his own arousal. Jim, unskilled, psi-null, and with his mouth very much too full to Speak, attempts to focus despite the fog of lust he's in. To imagine Spock shoving him up against the door, still fully clothed, and fucking him senseless right here. The Where isn't as important as him just keeping this goddamn outfit on in the moment.
But if he's not really able to get the thought across he is going to whine sooner or later to beg for it aloud.]
no subject
he shudders, dragging his fingers out of jim's mouth fully, briefly curling them to hook at the backs of his lover's teeth before releasing him entirely. ]
Here.
[ low, throaty, but pointed. he doesn't wait, though, so it come across more as a warning than a command: he shifts them all at once, using his strength and speed to give jim exactly what he wants: he flips them and slams jim against the door, pins him there by the nape, then leans up against his back from behind. only then does he move that hand so he can present his fingers to jim's mouth again (this one still gloved, both because he needs to focus and because the bare one is his dominant one), pressing a kiss behind his ear followed by another to his now-bared nape. ]
I did not realize you would be this affected by my clothing.
[ still low, but he's clearly willing to provide: his weight is what keeps jim in place as his free hand slips around to jim's front so he can squeeze his cock through his pants, then start to work at his fly.
(he's hard himself, his lok having slipped free inch by inch over the past few moments, but he can worry about that in a moment.) ]
too flabbergasted by cursed foodstuffs to notice you replied, oops
P...please, Spock--
[Lost in the warning and the collective groans of both of them as Jim finds himself pivoted on the spot and slammed up against his own door.]
Fffffuck--!
[The gloved hand at his nape, pinning his face against the comparatively cool surface so carefully. Spock's heat settling over him like a blanket, his scent mingling with the jacket and their own heightening arousals. It's all so much. His mouth falls open when Spock offers him the gloved digits this time, muffling the truly wrecked noises he makes as Spock mouths both along the back of his ear and his nape.
He nods shakily as if it weren't obvious. Bucks his hips shamelessly into Spock's hand. Jim's almost vibrating with his want by this point. Dizzy for the faint sound of rustling leather. The glimpse of Spock's phaser holster-strap at his thigh when Jim looks down to where his fiance is stealing away into Jim's pants.
All noises are urgent and eager, as is the tongue slowly forcing Spock's fingers to spread in his mouth by laving in between them.]
understandable lmao
Spread your legs.
[ as best as he can still mostly clothed, at least. while Spock would generally prefer not to soil their clothing as thoroughly as this, he finds he lacks the ability to care at the moment. drawing his lok free of layers of fabric makes him suck in a sharp breath, and he yanks jim's pants and underwear down just enough to give him access. he strokes his own arousal slowly to slick up his fingers (obscene, filthy—) because no matter how much jim wants it, spock won't do this without preparing him first. ]
Breathe, ashayam.
[ the words are thick on his tongue, his own patience wearing thin. once he's sure jim is focused enough to do so, he starts to press the first finger into him. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ spock is unrelenting like this, but still as measured as possible for jim's sake. he keeps track of his lover's reactions as he starts to truly work him open, fingers still slowly pumping in and out of his mouth, just now in time with how the fingers of his other hand move, one and then two, as slow as he's able to force himself to be with jim so desperate, responsive, and expressive.
he doesn't speak, just acts, lips brushing his nape again, his ear, teeth catching the rounded shell of it as his eyes watch jim's fingers curl where they rest. it's taking all of his self-control at this point to keep steady: finally, he thrusts both fingers inside jim and curves them, aiming to press where he knows will make jim even more reactive, to drag fingertips along sensitive nerves with well-practiced precision. but before he can move on— ]
Remember what I said about breathing, Jim.
no subject
Even if Spock couldn't hear Jim's breathing (or lack thereof) he can tell where Jim's at by the degree of fuzziness in the man's constant feedback threading through the bond between them.
Doesn't stop Jim from making a short, petulant sound of complaint around the deep breaths through his nose though.
He's going to be clawing at the goddamn door the second Spock hones in and starts rubbing over his prostate. Choking on Spock's fingers just briefly before he goes after them with even greater desperation. All sense of holding back evaporates while his lover plays Jim like a musical instrument. He'll breathe if Spock wants him to, but the only sense Jim focuses on is Now.
A litany. A mantra. A prayer if that's what it takes.]
some nsfw since im home anyway lmao
—now hits like a bolt of lightning and he finally relents, taking yet another shaky breath and nodding where he rests so jim can feel the movement. he moves quickly after that, keeping his fingers in jim's mouth as he withdraws the other hand, taking only as much time as is necessary to position them both so that he can rock his hips forward, sinking slowly but smoothly inch by inch into his bondmate until they're flush against one another.
jim is so hot around him despite their actual temperature disparity being the opposite that he moans, a low, wrecked thing muffled against the older man's back before he finally, finally starts to move.
no one has ever so thoroughly ruined spock as jim always does, much less when they've barely started. ]
don't know where you are - not wifi safe
He can't see it now, but the scent of leather is still heady, especially with Spock's gloved fingers working in Jim's mouth. Jim can feel the brush of Spock's bangs against his shoulders and remembers that ruffled windswept look he'd walked in with. Jim's whole body caresses Spock covetously with the memory. With how the jacket hung open, Spock's tits were full ass on display. Jim can't stop thinking about it. The look of him, his usual prim and proper lab coated boyfriend looking ruffled and rugged and--the leather the rub of leather and the smell of it and the feel of that stretch and connection--
Jim's thoughts melt together as he's pushed up against the door again. He moans around Spock's fingers but does shudder through a deep breath through his nose lest Spock Stop now of all times.
He wants his love to know just how goddamn hot he looked waltzing into Jim's office. How Jim's cock jumped at the sight of him. All of it.]