Warning: Sex, alcohol, smugness. Pure smut

Spock's a smug bastard, although he hides it beneath his blank expression and meticulous dress. He acts too strange, too reserved to appreciate the girl beside him, but secretly likes nothing better than the stares he gets from strangers when they see what a beautiful woman she is.

He likes when Nyota drags him out with her friends. Of course he always argues, claiming it is illogical to go when he does not dance and he cannot fit is in his busy schedule, but he always loses and ends up going with the crowd.

She makes sure to dress up for him. She wears a short dress that flutters around her thighs, cinches her waist and barely covers her ample cleavage. After the dress, she puts on tall stilettos and heavy make-up, and when he sees her, he wants to fuck her right then and there.

Instead he takes her arm and leads her out, giving her a look of disdain, as if this is the last way he wants to spend his evening.

It takes awhile to get the group assembled and even longer to march to a local establishment. Spock doesn't talk much, and when they get there he walks immediately to the bar. The sort of men that go to clubs and watch girls are perched there. Spock sits next to two or three of them who he sees watching Nyota.

He engages them in a conversation about warp coil efficiency, and they half listen and half watch Nyota as she stands and chats, her breasts bouncing as she leans down and chats. He drinks some twisted blue vials of Romulan Ale to get the edge off, and plugs on about the experimental benefits of internal sensors until he hears someone say,

"Pretty girl," and then he shrugs as if he's never found anything less interesting.

Nyota moves to the dance floor and begins to shake, making her skirt sway, showing more of those perfect legs and a touch of her rear. Spock moves to an even less interesting subject—agricultural treaties as he watches the eyes flick towards her.

After awhile, she walks up to the bar to tell him something, and the other men look at her like vultures until the moment she puts her hands onto his shoulders. He watches with satisfaction as their expressions turn into something priceless.

She almost never has anything coherent to say—she's a heavy drinker and an easy drunk but he pretends to listen as his hands slide off her shoulders and onto her ass. If he had to pick the hottest part of her body, he knows that's what he and any man would pick, and he enjoys the looks of jealousy.

She stops rambling about whatever problem whatever friend had with whatever guy and stumbles back to the dance floor. Spock resumes the conversation about farming machinery as if he found the interruption irritating.

Finally, her stumble turns to a clear stagger and she can't push herself up off his shoulders after leaning down. Spock bids farewell to his newfound and slightly-stunned-looking acquaintances and admires their looks of irritation as he guides Nyota out.

When they get to his quarters, he lies her down on his bed and she tries to touch him. Between the dress and the heels and the helplessness he wants her too, but that's no reason not to accuse her of being drunk and refuse.

Spock stifles a smile as she pleads with him and fails. Tired of arguing, she claws uncoordinatedly at the crotch of his pants, and pulls at his belt buckle. He stands perfectly still and lets her work slowly, but she can't get it undone. She grows increasingly frustrated until she gives up and asks for help, smiling and trying to look as sweet as possible.

Her request is disjointed and slurred, so he makes her repeat it over and over. Then he asks her why, and he tries not to feel too pleased at the few words he can make out of her rambling incoherent statement.

At the end, she lowers her head sadly and asks please and he acquiesces.

He basks in how eager she looks as he slowly undoes the buckle and opens her pants and her mollified expression as she gets his cock into her mouth. She sucks clumsily and unevenly, making bad work of it, but Spock's too busy enjoying how pleased she looks to notice.

Eventually, he pulls her to her feet and undresses her, barely touching her skin. Then he lies on his back and watches as she stumbles over and tries to mount him, looking beautifully angry every time she fails. Finally, she manages, and Spock feels his chest tighten as the coolness slides down on him, and admires the air of satisfaction on her face.

She pumps up and down unrhythmic ally, but he's too large for her, and can hardly make it halfway down the shaft. He watches with delight as she struggles. In a moment of glee, he takes her by the shoulders and shoves her down hard. The look of shock on her face as she feels him fill her makes him want to fuck her hard and fast but instead he revels in her frustration. He can tell she hurts, not badly, but fuck, it feels good, the movements and the tightness and her breathing.

After a minute, he flips her over and shoves his length in, but doesn't move. He makes her explain all over why she wants him.

Slowly and blearily, she articulates that it gives her pleasure—intense pleasure, and that's all he needs to start pounding as hard as he can, coming as she cries out with a beautiful bewildered look, as if she'd forgotten how she'd got there, forgotten what she was doing.

As her breathing clams, he whispers in her ear,

"I spoil you. You must know that. These things you make me do."

End note: This is for ship wars prompt 3 (NCC-17, Get Naked)