Fandom: Star Trek: XI
Disclaimer: I do not own, and I wish this weren't so because I'd love to make Kirk/Spock canon!
A/N: This story is sorta set post-Affliction's Sons... in my mind, the baby is Winona and Sarek's newborn daughter and the majority of the Enterprise is at her christening. That's just my personal canon behind the story though... feel free to imagine the baby belongs to any relative of Kirk that you want. Oh, and this is pretty close to PWP, written for my beta marlee813
Summary: Humans are illogical. They christen babies, starships, and cars, though they already have names before the ceremony. Jim distracts Spock from the illogic by showing him his baby--Rhonda, his dad's old car. Rhonda's a good old girl, and she's more than ready to take them for a "ride".
“Humans are illogical,” Spock said loudly. “It is irrational to attend an event where a child is to be named when the child has already been given a designation.”
Every single human relative of Jim Kirk froze. The room went silent as all eyes turned to Spock. Then they looked at Jim, waiting to see if he would defend his baby sister’s christening.
Jim chuckled lightly. “Come on, Spock, let’s go outside for a minute.” He grabbed his bondmate by the elbow and dragged him out the living room door, across the porch, and towards the barn.
After propping open the barn doors, Jim wandered inside and took a seat on an old crate. He let out a deep breath. “You nearly got yourself killed in there.” Some of his relatives were absolutely fanatical about weddings, christenings, and the like. Anyone who claimed a christening was pointless had better be ready to defend his view to the death. Great Aunt Matilda, in particular, had written her daughter’s entire family out of her will, simply because her youngest grandchild had decided not to have a christening for her new baby. And Great Aunt Matilda had enough credits to buy Starfleet, if she wanted, so it had kind of been a big deal.
Spock pursed his lips. “I spoke only the truth. Were the event religious in nature, it would perhaps be forgivable, but both of the baby’s parents are atheists.”
Jim shrugged. “This is rural Iowa. Around here, everyone christens their kid, unless they’ve got a religious ceremony they prefer. Not throwing a party is tantamount to telling everyone you know that you don’t want them near your baby.” Besides, he said across the bond, this is Earth. We christen starships and cars! He shared a mental image of his old convertible.
What did you call your car? Spock’s intrigue floated down the bond.
Walking farther into the barn, Jim headed for his baby. He grabbed the edge of the dust cover and pulled it off. “Meet Rhonda.”
Jim patted Rhonda on her bright red hood. “She was my dad’s car. I crashed her when I was thirteen. We didn’t have the money to fix her then, so her poor carcass sat in the barn till I was seventeen. With the money from my first job, I fixed her up and gave her a nice paint job.” It had taken the better part of two years to finish her. “Unfortunately, after the crash, she had a tendency to stall on me. The first time she did, the song ‘Help Me, Rhonda’ was playing on the oldies station. Since both the car and the song are from 1965, it just fit.”
Spock wandered around the car, examining the body. He crouched down next to the wheel well and felt the tire. “Is this natural rubber?”
Jim crouched down next to him. “Yep. Cost a pretty penny too, but I had to have them. Rhonda’s an original, she deserves the best.”
“And does Rhonda still run?”
Standing up, Jim motioned to the driver’s door. “I dunno. I haven’t driven her in years. The keys are in the visor, if you wanna give her a go.”
Spock climbed into the car without a word. Jim joined him in the passenger seat, both of them taking a moment to buckle up. After fumbling to fit the key into the ignition, Spock cranked the engine.
Rhonda purred to life.
Spock’s hands gripped the steering wheel. “Fascinating.” He caressed the leather wheel cover.
Through the bond, Jim could feel sparks of arousal. Interesting. He leaned over and laid a hand on Spock’s thigh. “You wanna take her for a ride?” he murmured in Spock’s ear.
Shuddering, he nodded.
Jim let his hand creep up a little. “Gas pedal’s on the right. Brake is on the left. Once you put her in gear, she can go all night.” He trailed his fingertips along the outline of Spock’s erection.
He shuddered again and jutted his hips forward slightly. “I was taught to operate a car when I obtained my multi-vehicular license from Starfleet.”
“What are you waiting for then?”
Spock moved his foot to the brake and shifted into drive. “Nothing.” He eased up on the brake, his fingers clenching on the steering wheel as the car rolled forward.
Jim released Spock only long enough to unlatch the roof and carefully fold it back. Then he returned his hand to Spock’s thigh. “Let’s go.”
Spock hit the gas pedal. Rhonda lurched forward, bursting out of the barn and into the open air. He spun her around towards the old dirt road and gave her a little gas. She thrummed, happy to be racing down the familiar path.
Jim caressed Spock through his pants. “You know, in the twentieth century, I bet someone got road head in this car.”
Spock turned to him, pupils blown wide. “Road head?”
Tightening his grip, Jim sent him a mental image. Spock’s hips thrust forward, and his foot pressed the gas pedal into the floor. The car rocketed forward, spitting up dust behind them.
Focusing back on the road, Spock eased up on the gas slightly. “And what did this road head entail?”
“Nothing special. It was just a normal blowjob. What made it different was the fact that, even though your dick was hard as hell, you had to keep driving as if nothing was wrong.” He stroked Spock again. “And you couldn’t get caught—public sex was against the law.”
A siren went off. Jim sat upright in his seat so he could look around. Behind them, a motorcycle cop flashed his lights. Jim groaned and sat back in his seat.
Spock took his foot off the gas and pulled onto the side of the road. The cop roared up behind them, then cut his engine. He climbed off the bike and headed for Spock’s side of the car. Spock turned off the engine, leaving the keys in the ignition.
“You were speeding,” the cop snapped when he got within hearing range.
Spock cocked his head. “The posted speed limit is seventy miles an hour. I was going sixty-four.”
Jim held back a grin. Only Spock would notice the speed limit and his current speed when aroused.
The cop flipped up his protective face-plate and frowned at them. “The posted limit is for wheel-less vehicles with impact avoidance technology. Wheeled vehicles cannot exceed thirty-five miles an hour inside the city limits.”
“Where is this law posted?”
“Along the city border.”
Spock nodded slightly. “I did not pass through the city borders, as I transported in. Expecting motorists to follow laws which are not visibly posted along all major roadways is illogical.”
Totally illogical. Jim couldn’t hold back a grin this time. You show him!
“It’s still a law,” the cop growled. “I’ll need to see your license and registration.”
Jim got the registration chip out from the glove box, grateful he had chosen to have it automatically renewed every year.
Next to him, Spock reached into his pants pocket to retrieve his id chip. He paused. “I do not have my id.” His memory of taking it out of his pocket in the bedroom to change clothes flashed across the bond.
The cop grinned. “Oh, really? I’m sure you know that, as a non-citizen, you must carry your id at all times. Please step out of the car.”
“I am Spock.” He didn’t move.
The cop snorted. “You say that like it’s supposed to mean something.”
“It should. I was the only half-human, half-vulcan in existence for over twenty years. I am also the first officer of the Enterprise.”
“Uh-huh.” He crooked a finger at Spock. “Step out of the vehicle.”
Spock acquiesced, unbuckling and exiting the vehicle, but he didn’t go quietly. “This is unlawful detainment. I am a citizen of Earth and have been since birth.”
“Nothing unlawful about requiring a license from a speeder.” The cop waited while Spock shut the door, then he burst into motion. He spun Spock around and pressed him onto the hood of the car with one hand while using the other to handcuff him. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take you back to the station, due to your attempts to resist arrest.” He grabbed a communicator from his belt. “Dispatch, I have an illegal alien in my custody who requires transport to the station. Please prepare to transfer.”
Spock struggled, trying to escape the man’s grasp, but the awkward position kept him immobile. Jim considered climbing out of the car and pulling the cop off of him, but seeing Spock handcuffed and trapped was kind of turning him on. Spock was such a goody-two-shoes most of the time; Jim would never have imagined he’d end up in jail.
“Dispatch here,” squawked the communicator. “Transport ready on your signal.”
“Beam him up.” The cop stepped away from Spock.
The localized transporter beacon in the handcuffs made it easy for the dispatcher to find Spock’s signal; he faded away in moments as the transport finalized.
The cop leaned against the side of the car and crossed his arms. “That’ll teach him.”
“Yeah, that’ll teach him… that you’re an idiot.” Jim grabbed his own id and handed it to the cop. “You might want to check that.”
He rolled his eyes, but he did run it through his scanner. When Jim’s credentials came up a moment later, he nearly dropped the chip. “You’re Captain James Kirk!”
“I’m glad you know my name, even if you don’t recognize my face.” Jim unbuckled and climbed across the front seat until he was tucked behind the wheel. “Now, I have to go retrieve my first officer from jail. Would you please return my id?”
The cop handed it over quickly. “I’m so sorry, sir. We’re supposed to be cracking down on speeders, and you know how bad it is right now with illegals trying to stay on Earth, and—”
Jim held up a hand. “There is never an excuse to manhandle or falsely arrest a citizen. You might want to go tell your boss what happened before I do… if you’re lucky, you’ll get off with a suspension.” He buckled up, then turned the key in the ignition. Rhonda revved to life, and he put the pedal to the metal.
James Tiberius Kirk hadn’t followed the speed limit when he was a kid, and he certainly wasn’t going to follow it now.
Rhonda hit forty-five in under fifteen seconds. Jim eased up on the pedal. Sixty-four actually was too fast for these roads—the dust killed traction. He had destroyed Rhonda once; he didn’t need to do it again.
His dick throbbed in his pants. Speed always gave him a hard-on, but what really had him going was the thought of Spock waiting for him in a jail cell. He thought about Great-Aunt Matilda again. At ninety-seven, her skin was more wrinkled than a pug’s face and her boobs hung down to her knees. She made a perfect boner-killer.
He roared into the drive of his house and parked the car near the porch. The party was still in full swing, but people had spilled out the front door. They watched as he climbed the porch steps.
Bones ran into him inside. “Someone light your tail on fire?”
“I’ve got to get Spock’s id.” He tried to slide between his cousins, who were blocking the hall. “He’s in jail.” Bones burst into laughter. Through the bond, Jim felt a faint trickle of annoyance as Spock listened in on the conversation. Sorry!
The various members of the crew who had been invited to the christening flocked around him. Uhura’s hands went to her hips. “What did you do?”
Jim threw his hands in the air. “Nothing! Spock was speeding and got caught by a cop with an agenda. Now I gotta go bail him out.” He hip-bumped his Aunt Laurie to get her out of his way. “Sorry, coming through!”
He made it up the stairs and back down before anyone else could ask him anything. Bones was still laughing his head off when Jim walked by, so he reached swatted him upside the head. It only made the chuckles worse.
Jim’s mother was waiting for him at the front door, baby Kara in her arms. “Please tell me you didn’t take that old car out.”
He swung an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “I didn’t take the car out—Spock did.”
She sighed. “Try to take better care of your bondmate, dear. Vulcans are more fragile than you think.”
Jim knew what she meant, but he also knew Spock was no pansy. Right now he was probably sitting in a holding cell with three big, burly bikers. And Jim knew exactly who would be in charge.
“He’s fine, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed Kara on the forehead. “We’ll be back as soon as I bail him out.” He headed for the car. “Save us some cake!”
He took off before she could reply. In the back of his mind, Spock grumbled again about Bones’ laughter. He sent soothing thoughts through the bond, along with promises of what he’d do to Spock after he retrieved him.
By the time he got to the station, his erection had returned, due in no small part to Spock sending him particularly racy thoughts involving Rhonda’s gearstick. He had to imagine Great-Aunt Matilda making out with Sarek to get it to go back down—an image which Spock appreciated even less than he did. The bond-link slammed shut.
Jim could have opened it again, as Spock never truly locked him out, but he accepted his punishment without a fight. He’d do the same thing if Spock imagined his mother naked.
Besides—now he could plan his seduction without Spock hearing.
Retrieving Spock was as simple as asking for the head officer on duty and handing over Spock’s id chip. An old friend of Jim’s, the officer let Spock off with a warning and a notation on his record. Spock scowled through the whole thing—though, for Spock, a scowl amounted to minutely thinner lips and a tiny wrinkle in his forehead.
Back at the car, Jim handed the keys to Spock. “Think you can get us home without getting pulled over?”
Spock climbed behind the wheel. “Yes.”
They took off at a moderate speed, one well below the limit. Jim waited for the town to fade into the distance before slipping his hand onto Spock’s thigh.
Rhonda veered off the road, screeching to a halt next to a bundle of trees.
Jim grinned. “Not up for road head?”
“No.” Spock caught Jim by the chin, dragging him forward for a kiss. “I would rather not return to prison. The other detainee in my cell had not washed himself in approximately three days—unless you count the alcohol he was bathed in.” He unbuckled his seatbelt.
“You mean, if I were to do this—” Jim ran his hand along Spock’s dick. “—you wouldn’t be at all tempted.” He undid his belt, sliding closer to Spock.
Spock pulled him into his lap, arranging them so Jim was kneeling over his groin. “You are an exhibitionist.”
“Guilty as charged.” Jim rocked his hips forward. One of his legs pressed uncomfortably against the gearstick, but he didn’t give a damn. “I don’t think you’re completely indifferent though.” Spock’s hardening cock testified to that fact.
He nipped at Jim’s lip while he unbuttoned both of their pants. He pulled out their erections, holding them together with one large hand. “There is no room for anal intercourse. This shall suffice.”
His mental barriers were still up, so Jim had no idea what was going on in his head. What he did know was that Spock’s hand felt amazing, and he wanted more.
He kissed Spock hard, using his tongue as a weapon. They battled for dominance for a moment, until Spock suddenly swiped his thumb over the top of Jim’s dick. When he moaned, Spock took control, shifting the kiss into high gear.
His hand sped up. The short strokes made Jim shudder, but they weren’t enough. He pumped his hips forward, screwing up Spock’s careful alignment.
His dick slid out of Spock’s hand, and he fell forward, catching himself on the back of Spock’s seat. His arms on either side of Spock’s head, he was able to regain control of the kiss.
His position also gave him control of their movements. He pulled Spock’s hand out from between their bodies, then pressed his hips against Spock’s. Their cocks were already leaking, and the precum made a slick path along Spock’s stomach as he rutted against him. He ground their cocks together, the friction of their hastily pulled aside clothes adding a delightful roughness to the movement.
Jim froze moments later as a hovercar whooshed past. Spock stared up at him, his cheeks flushed with arousal. Jim ran his finger along one sharp cheekbone. “Gotta be careful.”
Spock nodded, then bucked his hips. “You should hurry.”
Jim launched back into action, wrapping his hand around Spock’s dick. “Do me,” he ordered. They wanked each other furiously, pausing only to hide their dicks from passing cars.
Each time a car passed, Jim’s adrenaline spiked, sending his arousal higher. He leaned his forehead against Spock’s. Being alone in his head was a little lonely. He knocked on the barrier between them.
Spock opened the bond just as another car approached from a distance. Spock turned towards it, and through his eyes, Jim noticed it was the same style of hovercar that his mom drove. He couldn’t see the passengers as it flew by, but the thought that his mother had nearly caught them having sex—yet again—set his heart racing.
Under him, Spock began to roll his hips, a sign of his imminent climax. Jim slipped into his head for a moment to judge how he should proceed. Spock was close, but not close enough. He slid back in the seat, then jimmied himself as far under the dash as he could. Spock had to release him, which made Jim whimper, but then Spock’s dick was right in front of him.
Jim winked. “It’s not quite road head, but it’ll do.” Then he pressed a kiss to the tip of Spock’s dick before enveloping the top half in his mouth. He sucked hard and fast, using his tongue to caress the vein along the bottom.
His only warning before Spock ejaculated was a mental jolt of pleasure, which sent him over the edge as well.
After swallowing and wiping up some of his semen from the floor with his shirt, Jim clambered back into Spock’s lap. He leaned in and kissed him hard. Spock wrinkled his nose at the taste of his semen, but kissed him back.
The kiss grew long and languid as they slipped down from their highs. Long before Jim was ready, Spock pulled away. “The christening ends in forty-five minutes.”
Jim sighed but slid back to his seat. “Better head back.” He’d have to be there to say goodbye to all his relatives.
Spock started Rhonda back up and steered her back onto the road. They headed back going the speed limit. Rhonda sputtered a little as they drove.
Jim patted the dashboard. “I know, I know. You weren’t made to go the speed limit, were you, Rhonda?”
“I still contend that christenings are illogical, particularly when an inanimate object is reason for the celebration.”
Jim shrugged. “I guess. Didn’t keep you from going to the christening of the Enterprise though, did it?”
“It was still quite illogical.” He wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes.
“You know what’s illogical?” Jim slid into the bond. “Mental road head.” Using a trick that Spock had taught him very soon after they bonded, he made Spock orgasm just as he turned into the driveway of the farmhouse.
Rhonda screeched to a halt, and Spock clutched convulsively at the wheel. “I wish you had not done that.”
“What, do you think you’d crash?” Jim snickered. “We were only going twenty, tops.”
Spock narrowed his eyes. “No. I am upset that I will now have to walk past all of your relatives and Dr. McCoy with a large damp patch on my pants.”
“Oops… sorry?” He hadn’t considered that when he decided to surprise attack Spock.
“Sorry isn’t good enough.”
Sharp, almost painful pleasure shot from Jim’s brain down to his dick. He came explosively, soaking his underwear.
“I regret nothing.” He grinned, even as he felt the damp patch spread.
Spock shook his head. “Humans are illogical.”