Rating: R to NC-17
Summary: Written for a spot on my bingo card at kink_bingo . Could be either TOS or Reboot, but I pictured them as the TOS Kirk and Spock.
He awoke with a start, the incredible warmth that was caused by Spock's higher body temperature nearly suffocating him. He pushed back slightly, needing a little bit of space, but not too far, stopping when he felt Spock's arm tighten around him. He waited a few moments, not wishing to wake him, then shifted his head so he could see Spock. The light coming from the partially opened bathroom door was dim, but enough for him to see the bright green angry bruises rising on Spock's collar bone and neck, bruises raised by his own mouth.
He bit his lip, uttering a soft groan, unable to quell the surge of arousal at the sight. Thoughts of the way Spock arched his neck, giving him better access and crying out in wordless pleasure as he had sunk his teeth into the tender flesh, nipping and sucking, marking him had made it obvious to him Spock had enjoyed it. He cautiously raised a finger to lightly trace one of the discolored marks, one that would peek over the collar of his uniform shirt. He would have to be careful not to mark him again this high on his neck.
He slid his finger lower, back down to the trail of bite marks along Spock's clavicle, looking up to Spock's face to make sure he was still sleeping soundly. Later, when Spock was awake he would do this again, letting his fingers press harder against the contused tender flesh. Perhaps he would even revisit those vulnerable, sensitive areas with his teeth, raising fresh blood under the skin's surface, darkening the markings more.
He froze as Spock turned onto his back, but relieved to hear the soft snore the Vulcan always denied making. He raised himself up, leaning on an elbow, staring at Spock's chest, unable to resist lightly running a hand over it, smiling as Spock's nipples hardened in an automatic response to the touch. He frowned, the tightened nubs of flesh, while not having been ignored during their earlier exertions, he thought that perhaps they deserved more attention now. So what if he woke Spock? They were on shore leave.
He trapped the nipple between his forefinger and thumb, squeezing gently at first, steadily applying more pressure. When Spock groaned and tried to pull away, still asleep, he leaned down, replacing his fingers with teeth and nipped him sharply.
“Shhhh...” he admonished him, moving off his nipple to the puckered flesh surrounding it, biting and sucking, creating a ring of bruises around it as he felt Spock's hand thread through his hair, tugging him closer, urging him to continue.
He had no idea of what the words actually meant, but Spock's breathless, pleading tone and the way Spock gripped his head and shoulder, made his wishes quite clear. He moved his mouth completely over the nipple and braised flesh surrounding it and suckled the abused flesh harder.
He rolled so that he was straddling Spock, pressing his erection into Spock's abdomen, sliding against Spock's own hardened flesh as he eagerly gave his other nipple the same rough treatment. Sudden spurts of hot liquid against his belly made him raise his head, staring down as Spock shook and whimpered through his orgasm underneath him. The sight so arousing, a few more thrusts against Spock, was all it took for Kirk to cry out as he added his own climax to the fluid pooling on Spock. He grinned down at a disheveled and blushing Spock. The tint of green on his cheeks, far lighter in contrast to the green on his neck and chest. Kirk's grin grew wider as he told him so.
*eit'jae- to make a humble or urgent plea
Rhythm of Time by Bobby Sands
There's an inner thing in every man,
Do you know this thing my friend?
It has withstood the blows of a million years,
And will do so to the end.
It was born when time did not exist,
And it grew up out of life,
It cut down evil's strangling vines,
Like a slashing searing knife.
It lit fires when fires were not,
And burnt the mind of man,
Tempering leandened hearts to steel,
From the time that time began.
It wept by the waters of Babylon,
And when all men were a loss,
It screeched in writhing agony,
And it hung bleeding from the Cross.
It died in Rome by lion and sword,
And in defiant cruel array,
When the deathly word was 'Spartacus'
Along the Appian Way.
It marched with Wat the Tyler's poor,
And frightened lord and king,
And it was emblazoned in their deathly stare,
As e'er a living thing.
It smiled in holy innocence,
Before conquistadors of old,
So meek and tame and unaware,
Of the deathly power of gold.
It burst forth through pitiful Paris streets,
And stormed the old Bastille,
And marched upon the serpent's head,
And crushed it 'neath its heel.
It died in blood on Buffalo Plains,
And starved by moons of rain,
Its heart was buried at Wounded Knee,
But it will come to rise again.
It screamed aloud by Kerry lakes,
As it was knelt upon the ground,
And it died in great defiance,
As they coldly shot it down.
It is found in every light of hope,
It knows no bounds nor space
It has risen in red and black and white,
It is there in every race.
It lies in the hearts of heroes dead,
It screams in tyrants' eyes,
It has reached the peak of mountains high,
It comes searing 'cross the skies.
It lights the dark of this prison cell,
It thunders forth its might,
It is 'the undauntable thought', my friend,
The thought that says 'I'm right!'