Stella Notecor

Title: Eyes and Ears
Fandom: Star Trek: XI
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Wordcount: 2,000
Warnings: fluff!
Disclaimer: I do not own, and I wish this weren't so because I'd love to make Kirk/Spock canon!
A/N: So, this is a present for yawmin who I promised ear!porn for back in... October 2009. Erm, oops? Anyway,, I started this fic as ear porn... and it devolved into fluff. Repeatedly. Sigh. So, I am giving up on the porn. Perhaps someday I'll manage to write proper ear!porn. Until then, I hope you enjoy this yawmin!

Summary: When Spock walked into the medical bay only to find himself face to face with a Vulcan Jim, he was surprised to find the sight attractive.

Jim was not meant to be a Vulcan. He was far too emotional, and that was what made Jim who he was. And Spock was quite attracted to Jim just as he was. So when Spock walked into the medical bay only to find himself face to face with a Vulcan Jim, he was surprised to find the sight attractive.

Jim nodded at Spock. “Commander.” He was perched on the edge of a biobed, Dr. McCoy at his side with a tricorder. His hands rested in his lap and his feet hung motionless off the edge of the biobed.

Spock had never seen Jim so still. He returned the nod. “Captain.”

Dr. McCoy huffed and snapped his tricorder closed. “Oh dear god, as if one hobgoblin wasn’t enough.”

Jim broke into a grin. “Don’t worry Bones. I’m not gonna go permanently emotionless on you.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “You’ve got 48 hours to get used to your new looks. This is the first and last time that I’m going to recommend you spend some time staring at yourself in the mirror.”

As Jim hopped off the bed, the grin slid from his face. He turned to face McCoy and raised a sloped eyebrow. “Doctor McCoy, are you insinuating that I engage in narcissism? Vulcans do not believe in vanity.”

Spock found himself staring at the sharp lines of Jim’s pointed ears. They were slightly taller at their tips than the average Vulcan man’s ears were. Spock remembered a saying he had heard once at the Academy: the longer the ears, the longer the—he cut that train of thought off. He and Jim were friends, nothing more, and that was how they would stay.

McCoy grabbed a hypospray and jammed it into Jim’s neck. “That was an autoimmune suppressant. It’ll keep your body from rejecting your physical changes for a maximum of ten days. Don’t get delayed on your mission.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jim chirped. He grabbed Spock’s elbow and tugged him towards the door. “I’m going to go brief Spock.”

“Check in with me again before you leave the ship. I want to be sure your ear grafts are stable before you leave.”

Jim pulled on Spock harder. “Will do.” They stepped out of the medical bay and the door slid shut behind them. Jim let out a deep breath. “I thought I’d never escape.”

“May I ask why you appear to be Vulcan?” McCoy had mentioned a mission, but Spock had not received any memos mentioning a change in the ship’s status.

“Not here.” Jim started walking, dragging Spock along with him. “The situation’s sorta… sticky.”

They stopped at the turbolift and waited silently for it to arrive. They silently rode up two floors. Then they silently walked to Jim’s quarters.

As soon as the door slid closed behind them, Jim let out a huge breath. “Shit. You are never gonna believe this.” He flopped into his chair, letting his legs splay open obscenely. “We’re being sent on a mission to retrieve a Vulcan slave girl.”

Spock sat in the room’s other chair. He kept his back straight and his legs together, so that his knees bent in a perfect ninety degree angle. This was how a Vulcan should sit. “Do you mean ‘Orion’, sir?”

Jim shook his head. He straightened in his seat, his posture mimicking Spock’s precisely. “She’s a full-blooded Vulcan who was captured by slave traders as a child and raised as a sex slave. Apparently, among a certain group of Vulcan men, her existence is an open secret.” He grimaced. “In the aftermath of Vulcan’s destruction, one of them has been feeling guilty about using her, and he confessed his knowledge to the high council last week.”

Spock kept his face impassive, though his stomach turned at the thought that any Vulcan could condone the abuse of another Vulcan. “We are being sent to rescue her.”

Jim’s face settled into an unreadable mask. He nodded ever so slightly, his manner perfectly Vulcan. “We are to take a shuttle to the trading outpost where she is kept. Then we will gain access to her by hiring her for the evening.” His voice betrayed his disgust.

“I assume we will then remove her from the outpost and escape back to the Enterprise.” Spock kept his voice steady, having noticed that Jim was basing his demeanor on him.

Sure enough, when Jim spoke again, his tone bore no emotions. “That is the plan. Will you be able to fulfill your role?”

The man sitting across from Spock was a stranger. He appeared entirely Vulcan in both appearance and manner. Spock hardly believed this man could be his Jim.

His Jim never waited silently for him to respond. He always filled the silence with chatter, his hands flying animatedly about as he spoke. This man’s hands were clasped in his lap, his entire body still but not stiff.

He didn’t like it. He much preferred his Jim, the Jim who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life—during one mission, their captor had threatened to cut off their tongues if they spoke, and Jim had cheekily asked if they’d be getting supper soon. This Vulcan Jim unnerved Spock.

And it all centered on those ears. They were the definitive symbol of this Jim’s inhumanness. Spock found himself wanting to remove those ears, by force if necessary.

Silence suffocated Spock.

Before he could stop himself, his hand reached out and grasped the top of Jim’s left ear. He wouldn’t be able to decide later if he simply wanted to provoke Jim or if he had actually intended to remove the tip of the ear, but in the end, his motivation didn’t matter. When Spock touched the ear, Jim’s reaction sent the encounter spiraling in an entirely different direction.

Jim gasped. Not in pain, but in sheer pleasure.

Spock froze at the sound, his fingertips brushing Jim’s skin from the tip of his ear down to the lobe. Jim’s eyes went wide, his face suddenly close to Spock’s. The movement had brought them near enough that his breath warmed Spock’s nose.

“The newly generated skin is sensitive,” he said, in an even, modulated voice.

That was not Jim’s voice.

Spock considered their position for a moment. At last, he let the corner of his mouth quirk up. “Indeed.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he caressed the tip of the ear.

Jim sucked in a deep breath. His hands separated, balling into fists in his lap. “What are you doing?”

His voice was still steady and calm. Spock stroked the ear again, watching carefully as Jim fought to keep his eyes open. “Experimenting.”

Jim chuckled deep in his throat. “Are you going to dissect me next?” His voice had deepened, and it trembled ever so slightly. “My blood is still red you know.”

His face was flushed, his breathing heavy. Spock had managed to thoroughly decompose him. He should remove his hand from Jim’s ear and return to their previous conversation.

Instead, he reached out with his other hand and tugged on both ear tips at the same time.

Jim moaned. His eyes fluttered closed, and his head tilted backwards. Spock maintained his grip, and the new position left him pulling on the ears. Jim’s moan lengthened, and his hips jerked forward.

Attention drawn downwards, Spock discovered that Jim had an erection. “Fascinating.”

Laughter bubbled out of Jim. “Not what I’d call it, but whatever butters your biscuit.” His eyes cracked open, staring at Spock. “You might want to let go.”

No. Spock had no interest in releasing Jim. He wanted to see him fall apart. He wanted to see that hardening cock, he wanted to taste those plump lips, he wanted to make Jim scream. “Do you want me to let go?”

Jim’s gaze sharpened, his eyes focusing on Spock properly. “Not really.”

Spock focused his attention on the thoughts and emotions tickling his fingertips. The overwhelming emotion was lust. “I will continue.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

He let his fingertips caress the new skin, deducing through trial and error which touches brought Jim the most pleasure. When he gently stroked the curve of the ear, Jim sighed. Caressing the flat portion of the ear beneath the tip made him groan. Touching the tip made Jim’s hips jerk, but pinching it made him scream.

Spock varied his movements, making Jim moan constantly, his hips continually thrusting into the air. His trousers were standard-issue black, but Spock could see a small wet spot forming where the tip of Jim’s penis rested. The spot’s diameter had reached approximately six centimeters when Jim groaned loudly and jerked his head away.

He stared at Spock, eyes wide. His fists clenched spasmodically in his lap, and his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. “What are we doing?”

Fingers still tingling from their contact, Spock straightened in his seat. “I do not know.” And he didn’t. All he knew was that the man sitting in front of him was his Jim, and all he wanted was to touch him more.

Jim shook his head. “That’s not an answer. I need an answer. What do you want to do?”

“I want to have sex with you.” Saying it aloud felt tawdry, but honesty was the best policy in any relationship. Still, Spock’s heart rate increased by ten point four percent as he waited for Jim to respond.

Jim snorted. “Oh god. You did not just say that.”

His heart stuttered. Judging by Jim’s expression, the idea of having sex with Spock was… comical. Of all the responses Spock might have expected, that was not one of them.

Spock had seen Jim sleep with beings of multiple ages, genders, and species. From a 500-year-old crone from Medilina to the barely legal prince of Torer, Jim didn’t seem to care who his bed partner was, so long as they were willing.

Why did he laugh at the idea of taking Spock to his bed?

Spock was more than willing. Though Vulcans did not have casual sex, marriage or bonding was certainly not a requirement for engaging in coitus. Not that sex with Jim would be casual. They had spent the last two years together as the Enterprise’s command team. During that time they had engaged in many diplomatic missions, battled ferocious enemies, and saved each other’s lives. Jim had helped Spock deal with the emotions generated when Nyota left him, and Spock had returned the favor during each of Jim’s innumerable break-ups.

They had become friends, or so Spock had thought.

He stood. “I apologize. I did not realize you would be adverse to the idea. I will take my leave now and prepare for our mission.” He pivoted and headed for the door.

“Wait.” Halfway there, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Spock turned to Jim. “Don’t go. I was just surprised. If I’d known all it would take to get you into bed was a pair of Vulcan ears, I’d have gotten the surgery done months ago.”

Months? “I dislike your ears. I prefer you as an illogical, emotional human,” he said without thinking, his mind still caught on the fact that he could have had Jim in his bed months ago.

“Gee. You sure know how to compliment a guy.” Jim grinned. “So, you wanna have sex, huh?”

“Indeed.”

Jim’s grin widened. “You know, you might not like my ears, but I’m pretty fond of yours. And if they’re anywhere near as sensitive as mine, I think we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. His ears were quite sensitive, particularly the lobes, but Jim could discover that on his own. “I suppose you shall have to… experiment.”

“Indeed.”

Eyes sparkling, Jim reached up and wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck. He made an attractive Vulcan, it was true. But it was his bright blue human eyes—and all the emotions they contained—that made Spock fall in love with him.