Written for May, the Merry Month of Masturbation (2004),
and for Kira's Livejournal challenge, which was to include Spock, bondage, a James Bond reference, an aroused person, and a pair of tight bleached blue jeans. The only bondage here, however, are the bonds of decorum.

Kirk/Spock; beta-read by Hypatia Kosh, who, as I was writing this on a park bench, played basketball the entire time.

Jim in Jeans

by Farfalla; rated NC-17
blueberrysnail @ yahoo.com


The nature of the Vulcan marital bond is such that, unless deliberately blocked for some reason, the emotions of one partner can be vaguely sensed by the other. Even from opposite sides of a room, or in this case, the bridge of a starship, it is possible to be aware of the nature of one's bondmate's thoughts, if not their precise content.

Kirk didn't know why, exactly, but one thing was for certain--Spock was horny.

He peered over at the science station curiously. Spock wasn't doing anything essential--merely replacing one of his console panels after having removed it to clear dust out of the controls. The bridge crew itself wasn't at full attention at the moment anyway, because they were merely collecting a shipment of mail and supplies for colonies via transporter from Starbase 32. Low-level monitoring for Klingons and malfunctions went on as usual, but everybody was pretty relaxed.

There was definitely room in the atmosphere for a horny Vulcan.

Kirk concentrated his gaze on the back of Spock's head until his mate sensed the mental probing. Spock turned around, sultry-eyed, as his fingers pushed the panel back into place with a click.

//?// Kirk conveyed. It wasn't a specific thought, just an inquisitive mood.

Spock's reply was to lift his eyebrow. As he swiveled his chair to face the captain, Kirk's mind suddenly received an image in full color, clear as day.

It was of himself, James T. Kirk, in glowing, bare-chested glory. His pectoral muscles shone slightly with sweat, and his hair was a little damp from an imaginary workout. He was clad only in a pair of tight, bleached blue jeans, and from the conspicuous longitudinal lump at one thigh, it was clear he was just as aroused in the fantasy as its creator was in real life.

Jim couldn't help himself. A big, boyish grin spread across his face and he batted his eyelashes twice at the science console. The fingers of one hand moved to the computer keypad in his armrest, and he quickly sent a message to Spock's computer.

FLATTERER!_

Spock turned back to read the message, then typed something in reply.

TEMPTOR._

Kirk grinned harder. Spock's arousal had wafted across the room and was beginning to affect him. He shifted in his seat to relieve the pressure in his pants as his organ began to stiffen.

Spock saw his reaction, and watched with glittering, scientific eyes. He began to animate the Fantasy-Kirk in his mind, transmitting the results to the real Kirk.

The imagined Jim in jeans had one hand on his belly, and he rubbed his skin lazily as if massaging his muscles after exercise. Then he moved his hand up to his chest and nonchalantly played with one nipple, prodding and then pinching it to rubbery hardness.

The real Jim inhaled sharply, his nipples springing to action as if they'd really been thus caressed. He cast puppy-eyes at Spock, mock-begging some respite. After all, he was in the captain's chair! There was no way he could satisfy this desire at the moment.

If Spock felt mercy, he did not let it affect his actions. Jim in jeans had apparently grown weary of playing with his nipples for the time being, and now he clutched at the solid flesh hiding in his pants. His hand moved up and down the hidden erection, his head leaning back slightly with pleasure.

The captain of the Enterprise shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his dick feeling like it was about to poke straight through his pants. His fingers gripped tightly at his armrest. If only I could really do that to myself right now, he wished silently. He wondered for a humorous moment how his bridge crew would react if he acted on his unrealistic idea.

Spock would definitely be very happy, or whatever it was Vulcans called their version of happy--that was for certain, if the actions of Jim in jeans were any indication. The fantasy Kirk undid his fly and slowly, teasingly removed his penis from his pants. It rose from the textured denim sea like a leaping dolphin, smooth and strong, and his hands clutched at it firmly. The erection throbbed beneath his touch. He was Captain Penis of the Starship Manly-Thighs. He was Penis Galore. He was James Testicle Tiberius Kirk, Master of Masturbation--

Lieutenant Uhura spoke into her open channel with the transporter room. "Starbase 32 reports they are ready to transmit the fourth shipment of supplies," she told Mr. Scott, who was waiting on the other end. As she listened for his reply, she happened to glance over at Captain Kirk. She wasn't really surprised to see that he was sporting another erection. What IS it with him? she wondered to herself as she wiped a crumb from lunch off of her uniform. Does his ~chair~ vibrate?