A/N: Oneshot written for the STXI kink meme prompt "Kirk jerks off and fingers himself for Spock Prime. Extra bonus points for toys."

Warnings: Mild D/s and kink (naturally).

"Hey, you." Jim grinned broadly at the viewscreen and settled back against his pillows in the slowest, most seductive way possible. He draped an arm over his stomach so that his fingers came to rest on the waistband of his black briefs.

"Greetings, Jim." The ancient, beloved Vulcan face didn't quite smile, but his eyes lit up, and his eyebrows hit his hairline in mock-incredulity. "Are you certain your attire is appropriate to discuss interstellar diplomacy?"

"Who said anything about diplomacy?"

Spock was clearly interested, but he kept up his pretense of mild confusion. "You did contact my office line."

"And you're on break too, unless my chronometer is way off," Jim teased, tucking his other hand behind his head, shifting so that his hips lifted off the bed ever so slightly. His erection pushed against the fabric of his briefs, and he savored the friction, but resisted the urge to repeat the motion for now. "Go on. Lock the door," he urged.

Spock feigned exasperation and disappeared from the screen for a moment, giving Jim an unobstructed view of the shelves behind his desk. Tucked amongst the various Vulcan scientific and philosophical tomes was the collection of Earth poetry Jim had given him as a birthday present about two months ago. A few bookmarks peeked over the top of the spine, and the sweet affection that swept over Jim fed rapidly into his more urgent, physical feelings.

The ambassador returned to his chair, and this time he studied Jim, his eyes wandering freely. Jim shuddered a little under that intense, deliberate gaze. "I presume you could not wait until our designated time."

"Yeah," Jim said. "But we can always do it twice. I'd be more than willing for a second round."

"Forgive me." The corners of Spock's mouth twitched, and he glanced down and shook his head minutely. "Sometimes I forget how enthusiastic your libido was in our younger days."

"Enthusiastic is one way to put it," Jim pulled his hand out from behind his head and stroked it down his chest. "Another way would be I've been hard for you all shift. Just sitting in the chair with a PADD on my lap, hoping no one would notice."

Spock made a small sound, half moan and half sigh. He leaned forward almost imperceptibly. "In that case, I suppose the most logical course of action would be to attend to your condition."

Jim nodded, but waited. They had done this too many times for him to fall for that line. "I suppose it would."

Fortunately, Spock was satisfied after only a few seconds of testing him. "Remove your underwear, Jim," he murmured.

Jim was all too happy to comply. He didn't feel up to a striptease at the moment, so he wriggled out of his briefs as quickly as possible, balling them up and chucking them on the floor. He leaned back again and waited, legs stretched out and ankles crossed, trying to look as casual as possible with his cock hot and heavy against his stomach.

"You may touch yourself if you wish."

There weren't enough words in the world to describe how much Jim wished. He closed a hand around his erection and started pumping, slow and gentle, teasing himself with the smooth slide of his foreskin. All the while Spock was quiet, studying Jim was he would study an experiment, but with a hungry edge to his stare. Jim shut his eyes and basked in the thrill of knowing he was watched, that this thing you were supposed to do behind closed doors was playing out on a screen on a distant planet, observed by someone else.

Usually Spock made him skirt dangerously close to the edge, all the while insisting that he not orgasm, but today he told Jim to stop after a couple minutes.

"Get the lubricant," he said, and amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes when Jim produced a tube from behind a pillow. Then his face gentled, and his voice mellowed with lust. "Spread your legs."

"Mmm," Jim replied senselessly, and squeezed a little lube onto his fingers as he obeyed. "You're being nice today."

"I have never been anything less than kind to you," Spock said, feigning offense.

"You have and you know it."

Spock leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. "If you desire to be controlled, even to the point of discomfort, is controlling you not the kindest option?"

Jim loved how Spock could stay so rational as he was getting more flustered and desperate by the minute. The contrast made him feel like an animal, a slave to instinct, and his inhibitions crumbled as that notion grew stronger. "All right, you win. Enough with the logic, more with the controlling."

"Yes, Captain." Spock quirked an eyebrow. It was a ridiculous thing to say, really, but the mischievous way Spock said it made Jim forget where he was for second or two. Then Spock paused again, like their breaks would last forever, and Jim tried not to squirm as he fought the urge to barrel ahead without permission. Contrary to a certain doctor's opinions, he had some self-discipline.

Well, not that much. He huffed out a sigh and shifted, his erection quivering at the slight movement enough for a tiny burst of pleasure. "And here I thought you were going to have mercy on me."

"I intend to, but I suspect your arousal is distorting your perception of time. You are more impatient than usual," Spock commented lightly.

Normally Jim would have asked if he had any statistics on that – he probably did, right down to average number of minutes before the begging started – but at the moment Jim was too preoccupied with the fact that he had spent most of the morning dying for release. "Spock, please…"

Spock managed to look both wicked and neutral at the exact same time. "You may stimulate your anus. No penetration."

Jim was about to say something snarky, but by then his hand had already reached its destination, and his index finger was doing exactly as Spock had ordered, and anything resembling snark died before it could reach his lips. Instead he grunted, and his breath hitched, and he sank into the pillows as all of his focus rushed to that sensitive point. He circled his hole with two slick fingers, massaging with slowly increasing pressure even though it was torture to have only this and nothing else. He tucked an arm under one knee to keep his legs apart and his free hand occupied before he could get too worked up and touch his cock.

By the time Spock finally told him he could start preparing himself, he was relaxed enough that there was no resistance when he slid two fingers inside. He locked eyes with Spock as he drew them in and out, the Vulcan's gaze weighing heavily but warmly on him, like a blanket of summer air. His wrist brushed his balls, and his erection throbbed, almost painfully hard. He sped up the pace.

He flexed his fingers apart, twisted them slightly, and curled them against that particular spot that sent fireworks scurrying up and down his spine. He lost himself for a moment, mind reeling aimlessly between gasps and shivers. An old partner had once commented that Jim's prostate was 'excitable,' and Jim personally felt that was a huge understatement.

The second he could put together a coherent thought again, he eyed the drawer beside his bed. "Okay. Okay, I'm ready."

"You are not," Spock said reproachfully. "You require three fingers."

"No I don't!"

Spock gave him a look that dared him to keep arguing, so Jim rolled his eyes and trailed a third finger through the excess lube around his hole. He removed the first two only to push all three in at the same time, the hot, satisfying stretch going straight to his cock. He took his time to placate Spock, although he wanted nothing better than to reach down with his free hand and jerk off, relieve the tension that had made him sweat and shift in discomfort for hours.

He wondered what would happen if he did it; just touched himself right now and rubbed one out. It wasn't like Spock could stop him. And the next time they managed to meet in person, maybe he would take it upon himself to punish Jim in some suitably kinky way. One of the more interesting things he had learned since he started messing around with the more mature version of his first officer was that deep down, Spock was several hundred light years away from vanilla.

But before he could get desperate enough to seriously consider that plan, Spock's voice interrupted him. "That is sufficient," he said. "Let me see."

Jim blushed right down to the tips of his toes as he spread himself open. He closed his eyes, his heartbeat deafening in the ensuing silence. For whatever reason, doing this over a vidlink instead of in person was more embarrassing, made him feel more exposed. His hole clenched and relaxed, grasping at nothing in the sudden absence of touch, and the seconds passed like hours.

"You may proceed," Spock said at last in a low, satisfied purr.

Jim practically dove for the bedside drawer. The dildo he had stashed there was plain, average-sized and an unassuming shade of blue, synthesized in a pinch from the ship's limited databanks. But it got the job done, and he hadn't found the chance to replace it with something fancier, not when Bones had developed a habit of following him around on shore leave.

"Only the tip," Spock instructed firmly as Jim slicked the toy up and leaned back into the pillows.

He moaned in frustration, but positioned the dildo at his entrance and pushed it just a little bit past the tight ring of muscle. That single inch felt so good slipping into him that it took every ounce of his willpower not to keep going. He bucked his hips weakly, held open but not filled. "Please," he hissed between his teeth.

"That is not a coherent request," Spock said.

"Please, let me… I want it inside me."

"It is inside you," came the maddeningly even response.

"More… I need more…"

Spock hesitated just long enough for Jim to let out a groan not unlike the sounds he tended to make when dealing with 'fleet bureaucrats. "Slowly," he said.

Jim sighed in relief, pushing the toy deeper within himself. He rolled his hips as he worked it inside, the steady motion driving him to tense and relax so that his muscles drew it in all the way to the base with hardly any effort. The toy grazed past and settled firmly against his prostate. He laid there for a minute, squeezing around it, enjoying the pressure and fullness.

"Speak to me, Jim."

That voice was an aphrodisiac like no other, a fact which had been confusing Jim's body on the bridge more and more lately. Sure, the older Spock's had an edge of gravel, the rasp of age, but both Spocks had voices that were rich and measured, and not long after their first encounter, Pavlov started ringing the bell at inopportune times. Like earlier that day. God, if the Spock on his ship knew about this…

Jim shoved that thought from his mind before it could kill the mood. "Feels good," he mumbled.

"Surely your descriptive capabilities have not vanished since yesterday."

"Not… not as big as you. Still good." Jim faltered as he started to move the toy, shifting it in and out. He managed a glance at the screen, and found that both of Spock's hands were clearly above the desk. "You aren't gonna take advantage of this?" he panted.

"It would be inappropriate given my current location," Spock said idly. "Besides, I am saving my energy for later."

An abstract whine of desire forced its way out of Jim's throat, encouraged by the slow rhythm of thrusts he was building. "God, yes," he groaned, as he thought about a repeat performance that night. Thought about watching Spock's face when he came. The pleasure within him ebbed and flowed, fading a little less than before each time it surged up. Occasionally the dildo shifted in just the right way, and Jim was hit with a sharp jolt that threw his nerves into chaos, made him lose track of his limbs.

"Jim." Spock said his name as a gentle reminder of what he should be doing.

"Wish I could kiss you," he blurted out. "Need you to kiss me while you fuck me."

He must have caught Spock off-guard with that, because the Vulcan made a faint noise that Jim only ever heard from him in the middle of sex. "I will do so frequently during our next meeting."

"Can't wait," Jim gasped, his wrist starting to hurt from the increasingly forceful pace he set. "I'll meet you in the hangar, and we'll find an empty room, and– ahhh…"

"You would have me take you in public?" Spock's tone sounded like disapproval, but judging from his expression, he was more than open to the idea.

"Yes, yes, whatever you want." Jim's cock ached, bouncing against his stomach with every thrust. "Oh, fuck."

"Do you require additional stimuli?"

He nodded for lack of the breath to form words.

"Then do what you must."

Jim took hold of his erection, stroking frantically, pausing to thumb the underside of head. It only took a few seconds before he was gasping obscenities and coming all over himself. He shoved the toy in deep and held it there, unable to continue the thrusting motion while orgasm overwhelmed him. But he did manage to keep his hand going on his cock until he was totally spent, and the pleasure turned into pain.

By the time it was over, he had arched his back so hard he carved a canyon in his pile of pillows. It was quite awhile before he could do anything more than stare at the ceiling from between fluffy walls, but he eventually settled his breathing and propped himself up again. He pulled out the dildo and cleaned up as best he could with a handful of tissues, reluctant to get out of bed. He had about ten minutes left before Bones would head to lunch and wonder where he was, and he intended to spend most of them basking and sprawling and generally looking as fucked-out as possible.

Spock watched him settle into a comfortable lounging position with the barest hint of a smile. "What are you thinking?"

"Miss you," Jim said, drifting in the haze of his afterglow.

"I suffer from your absence as well."

"It's kind of weird. I mean, you're always right there over my shoulder, but…" Jim realized belatedly that he didn't want to complete that thought.

Spock's half-smile faded into something downright paternal, and Jim kicked himself for slipping like that. "You have not spoken of my counterpart in some time."

"I'd rather not talk about him, actually." More like he'd rather not talk about how happy and in love the ship's resident power couple obviously was. He could feel his good mood slipping out of his grasp, and he made a quick attempt to change the topic. "Did the other me like this too?"

Much to his relief, Spock took the hint, although the concern lingered around his eyes for a few moments. "Not this particular activity. He could be quite self-conscious at times." Jim shot him an incredulous look, so he continued. "In the aftermath of pon farr, there are a few weeks when Vulcans are incapable of arousal. During this period, I suggested that he masturbate while I watched, but he could not bring himself to do so comfortably. Nor could he ever do so over visual communication."

A surge of giddy, childish pride swept over Jim. "So you're saying I'm more sexually adventurous than your Jim?"

"That still remains to be seen." Spock's eyes burned into him, hot with promise. "And for all intents and purposes, youare my Jim."

"Not really. I'm like his twin."

"It is not so simple." Spock went silent, and the thoughtful tilt of his chin put Jim on red alert. "You love myself and my counterpart equally. Why do you doubt that I feel the same?"

"I should go," Jim said. If Spock wasn't going to leave this alone after all, Jim had to sign off ahead of schedule. He stood up so fast he almost fell over, his knees still weak from orgasm. As soon as he managed to catch his balance, he started tugging on whatever random articles of clothing happened to be the closest. He got as far as both socks and most of his black undershirt before Spock interrupted him.

"I apologize. I did not intend to upset you."

"You didn't," Jim lied. He shook out his briefs and command shirt and wriggled his way into both, moping silently. It was easier for Spock, he thought. He had Jim's love in two universes; Jim only had his in one. "I'll see you later, okay?" He rounded the bed and reached for the console controls.

"T'hy'la." Spock said, and Jim froze in reflexive focus, his finger resting on the 'end call' button. The Vulcan's eyes were soft, and his tone softer still. "I expect you to be in your quarters and available for a conference at precisely nineteen hundred hours tonight."

It wasn't just an invitation to seduction, but a command for Jim to appreciate what he had. A request for patience. A declaration of love. Warmth flushed over Jim, tingly and saccharine and all of those awful things teenagers were supposed to feel, not starship captains. He fought it half-heartedly for a moment, but he didn't have the strength of will to win. The wall crumbled, and his insides turned to mush.

"Not fair," he muttered.

"What is not fair?" Spock said indulgently.

"You used the t-word." Jim grinned away the last traces of his moodiness, and was glad to see them go. "Nineteen hundred. I'll be there, old friend."

"Good," Spock said. "And Jim?"

"Hmm?"

"Do not forget your pants."

The screen went dark before Jim could come up with a retort.