Prompt: "Kirk and Spock share a telepathic bond that allows them to communicate without speaking out loud. While on the bridge, Kirk gets a little mischievous and tries to seduce Spock through his thoughts to break his control. (top!spock preferred)
Also...bonus points if Spock totally punishes Kirk (in a sexy way) for being such a little brat."

A/N: A repost/slight revision of a fill I did for the kink meme. Rated M for a reason.

This is pretty much PWP that I got carried away with. About halfway through my fill the OP mentioned that a little spanking would be much appreciated, so I tried my best to indulge her. Consider yourself warned.

"Provision thirty-two dash five states that shuttlecraft cargo export weight will not exceed one earth ton–" The monotone voice drifted over the bridge, and the man on the view screen looked almost as asleep as the crew, excepting the captain and first officer.

But while Jim appeared to be listening attentively to the ambassador, his mind was elsewhere, desperately trying to entertain itself. Over his relatively short career as captain he had perfected his diplomacy face; an open, blank stare accompanied by an occasional nod. He was only just discovering how handy it was.

His thoughts had been drifting idly for some time when they bumped into the bond between himself and his first officer. At first its constant presence had been a little strange, but over time they had learned to share emotions, impressions, and even words at will, and Jim couldn't imagine going without it.

Especially at times like these.

Hey Spock. What're you thinking about?

Provision thirty-four dash seven. The response came without missing a beat.

Of course you are.

He couldn't read Spock's thoughts without the Vulcan consciously directing them, but the connection was still open, so he could get a sense of the careful, genuine contemplation Spock was putting into the minor treaty. Just one many of the qualities Jim adored in him was his complete inability to half-ass anything.

Without quite meaning to, Jim let his mind wander, dwelling on one of those other qualities in particular. Namely how much he wanted to pinch a certain piece of alien anatomy, just once, when they were on duty. In fact, that was quite an interesting thought, one that ought to be shared.

Spock's surprise resonated through their bond with the mental equivalent of a jump. Captain, I would appreciate it if you ceased your current behavior.

Jim put on his best innocent face and shot a glance over his shoulder. He fought the urge to laugh at his first officer's stern stare. Why Mr. Spock, I have no idea what you mean. Seeing his target made visualization easier, and so he imagined running his hands over the tops of those long fingers, and watched them clench in response. Reluctantly he turned his gaze elsewhere before someone took notice.

Your behavior is exceedingly unprofessional. Spock sounded irritated, but Jim liked to pretend there was a trace of interest beneath the surface. Usually there was, but he could never be sure, and that was part of the fun.

C'mon, you know all this bureaucratic jabbering is just a formality.

There could be an error in the document's wording.

You read it yourself. Don't tell me you doubt that gorgeous head of yours. He pictured his fingers trailing lazily up an elegant neck, skimming through fine black hair. He could feel Spock loose his train of thought for the space of a blink.

Captain, now is neither the time nor the place.

Neither was Morpheus-3, according to you. But that worked out just fine, didn't it?

Those were… extraordinary circumstances. There it was; the hesitation Jim had been waiting for. Now all he had to do was seal the deal.

He infused his next thought with as much emotion and vivid memory as possible. I'll say. I've never come so hard in my life.

He felt Spock's entire focus snap toward him, whether voluntary or not, he couldn't tell. Spock sounded downright strict now. I request that you stop this instant.

Jim slipped a sense of calm through their link to push gently at Spock's mind, lulling him into letting his guard down. You were amazing, you know. So intense. Hands clutching at his waist hard enough to bruise. All the Morpheans were in awe of you. Jarn't told me your mind was… delicious. Fingers seeking the meld points on his face with surprising gentleness, unbelievably hot against his skin. I wanted you so much. I thought I was going to lose it the second you touched me. Lips meeting in desperation, an attempt to quench the fire that only added more fuel. They were watching, all of them were watching, but to him it just heightened the thrill, and Spock was too far gone to care. I want you now.

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face, but the sensation felt distant, indistinct. He wasn't sure whose thoughts were whose anymore. They were mingled together in an abstract pool of mental sensation, intoxicating and sweet and uncomfortably warm.

Suddenly Spock's voice cut off the ambassador's endless drone, breaking their mutual haze. "Captain, I am picking up a minor energy disturbance on deck twelve."

The rest of the crew seemed to snap back from the brink of death, and they hurried to tend to their stations. "I do not read any disturbance, commander." Chekov spoke up from the helm.

Jim turned to Spock and looked him up and down, and saw him swallow visibly. The faintest hint of frustration reached him through the traces of the mental connection, not entirely cut off. Spock looked at his monitor again and feigned bewilderment. "Curious. It is gone. Perhaps a temporary fluctuation."

An energy disturbance?

Spock didn't reply, and Jim fought the urge to grin like a madman. He must be downright flustered to come up with such a poor excuse to leave the bridge.

Please, Spock. You can do better than that.

The ambassador, meanwhile, kept right on reading as if nothing had happened. They could probably get up and march right off the bridge, and he would neither notice or care. Jim suspected Spock was thinking the same thing, no doubt berating himself for it. He was so close to victory he could taste it.

So he imagined himself minus a shirt, kneeling between Spock's knees.

"May I be excused, captain?" Spock abruptly jerked the crew out of their stupor again. "I have an experiment in progress that requires frequent monitoring."

"Of course, Mr. Spock – if it's all right with the ambassador, that is."

The round face on the view screen nodded, looking slightly bewildered by all these interruptions. Jim turned to watch Spock depart swiftly, and right before the turbolift doors whisked shut, that serious voice echoed powerfully through his head.

My quarters. Five minutes. I trust you will be able to come up with an excuse.

Jim did come up with an excuse a few minutes later, but it wasn't his best work. Vaguely he noticed that most of the bridge crew exchanged concerned looks with one another as he hurried to the turbolift. James T. Kirk willingly seeking a medical authority for a stomach ache was not exactly plausible. In any case, he couldn't bring himself to care. They could chatter amongst themselves all day without guessing the truth.

And the truth was that he had just seduced his unflappable first officer in the middle of a diplomatic meeting, using only the power of his mind. There should be a medal for that.

His heart started thudding the moment the turbolift arrived at the correct floor. He had made Spock angry before, and horny before, but not yet an unknown combination of the two. He hesitated at his first officer's door to take a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The door slid shut behind him, and the lights were dim enough that his eyes were having some trouble adjusting. Then a dark figure moved out from behind the divider between office and sleeping areas.

BANG.

Before he could say a word, before he could even blink, his back collided with the wall and his hands were pinned above his head.

"Why do you insist on being so persistently illogical." Spock growled, eyes fierce and voice low.

Jim grinned inwardly, but was careful to keep his subsequent reply of 'because it makes you do this' in his own head. Instead he shrugged as best he could and tried to look sheepish. He probably failed.

"It appears you cannot go a single day without directing some sort of unseemly behavior toward me." Spock easily kept his wrists in place with one hand and trailed the other along Jim's face, skimming over the meld points and sending an electric tingle through his whole body. "But until today you had never done so surrounded by the crew. Your lack of caution is inexcusable." The hand dropped lower, trailing down Jim's chest and stopping on the side of his waist.

"They couldn't tell I was doing anything!" Jim protested.

"You promised me that you would respect the private nature of our relationship." Spock broke his intense stare to fix his eyes on a point somewhere around Jim's shoulder. He was breathing hard, and clearly trying to regain control of himself. That was the last thing Jim wanted.

Without warning he twisted his arms against Spock's hold to snap the Vulcan out of whatever logical flowchart he was following to work his way out of the scenario. Instinct dictated that Spock tighten his grip and try to keep him still, bringing them just close enough for Jim to shift his weight and push their bodies together. Spock flinched at the contact, but leaned into him, and Jim could feel he was hard. Jim gave himself a good mental pat on the back for choosing the memories of the Morpheus incident.

"Discussion later." He hissed, and started to slowly rock his hips. He drank in the sight of Spock's eyes fluttering shut, the sound of his half-strangled gasp. "Show me." He said quietly.

Spock's hand was on his face again in an instant. A wave of desire barreled into Jim, so strong it was immediately translated to the physical. Only Spock's iron grip kept him from slumping over, and he couldn't hold back his groan of delight. The sensation faded rapidly a moment later, leaving him breathless and desperate. God, Vulcan foreplay was amazing. He was this hard and Spock had barely touched him.

Then Spock was tracing those long finger over his lips with intent, and Jim grinned and lightly kissed the tips. He waited for Spock to push with more insistence before he started to nip and suck at them. He drew Spock's index finger into his mouth, and Spock cried out, his whole body jolting.

What do you want? Jim thought at Spock, and slipped a second finger between his lips. Anything, I'll do it.

Suddenly Spock released him and pulled away in a single, swift movement. His eyes were wild and his uniform in disarray. "Over the desk." He snapped.

Oh, hell yes.