Chapter Text
It had started innocently enough.
Well the situation hadn't been innocent, but the thought was a fleeting one. Chris could have never said anything at all.
Come was leaking down Spock’s thighs and Chris was still catching his breath when it came to him.
As they both leaned back on their heels, Chris placed a steadying hand on Spock’s hip. He leaned back even further to admire his work. All that come was going to make a mess on his carpet, but that’s what sonic cleaners were for, right?
Spock’s hole wasn’t on display anymore, as it had while they had been rawing, doggy style, on the floor of the captain’s quarters. But Spock’s buttocks had a delightful green glow to them where Chris’s hips had been slamming against them.
Chris watched the mesmerizing play of Spock’s back muscles as the Vulcan settled on his knees, ruined ass nestled gently against the curve of his feet.
Chris literally couldn’t resist leaning forward to circle his arms around Spock’s middle, reveling in soft warm skin and the bare brush of Spock’s happy trail as he hooked a chin over his lover’s shoulder. Spock's head fell back on Chris's shoulder comfortably. The movement caught Chris’s eye in the floor length mirror in front of them.
Fucking in front of a mirror was an old classic. Spock, especially, seemed to enjoy the additional visual input. Chris certainly wasn’t complaining, the memory of Spock’s heaving chest and bobbing, drooling cock in the mirror’s reflection burned into his mind.
Chris slid his hands upward until they were cupping Spock’s pecs. He thumbed absently at Spock’s nipples without intention, enjoying the silky satin texture of Spock’s areolas as they both (mostly Chris) caught their breath.
Spock didn’t really have to “catch his breath,” so to speak. Vulcan had a much thinner atmosphere than Earth and Spock’s lung capacity was, frankly, insane. Chris had once witnessed Spock hold his breath for 15 minutes during an away mission on a water-dominant planet, when the Vulcan’s oxygen converter had been damaged. After witnessing that, Spock’s amazing cocksucking skills suddenly made a lot more sense. Chris had never seen Spock eat pussy, but he suspected that Spock would also be similarly impressive in that department.
The rise of Spock’s chest beneath Chris’s hands was gentle, if irregular. Chris softly brushed his knuckles over the swell of Spock’s left pec as he continued to thumb an areola.
Spock’s nipples, unstimulated, were soft and puffy. They pulled wide at the stretch of his chest, and could become slightly inverted. The depressions were fun to coax to life, to suck and twist and tug until they were erect, raw and straining towards Chris’s mouth.
Chris watched his own reflection dig the barest nail tip into the soft depression of Spock’s right nipple.
The words were out of his mouth before he could really think.
“These would look amazing pierced.”
Spock lifted his head to join Chris in looking at their reflected selves in the mirror.
Spock’s large, veined hands slid up over Chris’s, also cupping his pectorals.
Spock’s gaze, soft under his fringe of sex-swooped hair, was thoughtful.
“Perhaps I should have them pierced, then.”
Chris blinked at Spock’s easy, yet somehow devastating, response.
He chuckled, his throat suddenly too dry.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Chris twisted his hands up so they entwined with Spock’s hands, bringing them down and crossing them so that he was again embracing Spock around the middle. However, moving Spock’s arms this way made the vulcan’s biceps press those generous pecs together, accentuating Spock’s chest further.
Chris swallowed.
The soft skin of Spock’s nipples looked tender and vulnerable in the reflection of the mirror.
Chris noticed Spock’s penetrating gaze a moment too late. Ah, caught.
“I hardly think I can pass up the opportunity now,” Spock’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. Chris didn’t have to look at his own reflection to see the hot red flush traveling up his neck.
And Spock couldn't let Chris come up with a coherent response before opening his damn mouth to query, “Have you always preferred heavily endowed partners or am I a particular case?”
Chris closed his eyes, a choked chuckle escaping him before burying his reddened face into Spock’s neck.
“You are not a “particular case,” Spock.”
Hey, why not be bold though?
“You do have an amazing pair of tits, though.”
It was part challenge, part dare. Chris made eye contact with with Spock in the mirror. They could could leave it lie…or…
Chris released Spock’s hands to settle them over Spock’s stomach as he watched the perfect machinery of Spock’s brain turn the phrase “amazing pair of tits ” over and over again behind his surprisingly fiendish eyes.
Chris buried his face in Spock’s neck again, breathing in the tacky scent of Spock’s skin and enjoying the scratch of stubble against his own before Spock spoke up.
“I would get silver piercings, of course.”
Chris felt smooth, blunt fingers ruffling in his hair.
Chris peeked up, tentative. That trademark almost-smile was playing around Spock's mouth.
“Silver’s a pretty traditional Vulcan color,” Chris offered.
“Yes, it is,” Spock murmured back, still playing with silvery strands of Chris’s hair, still in disarray from their exertions. Chris reached up to trail his fingers from Spock’s elbow, over the fleshy dip of his armpit, then down to cup one of Spock’s warm pecs again. Chris found himself squeezing that subtle flesh, pointing Spock’s nipple in one direction, then another, with his fingers.
Toying with his partner’s tit as he thought.
Good lord, was he transparent.
Chris dipped to press his face into Spock’s shoulder.
“You wouldn’t be able to wear them on away missions, of course,” Chris murmured into Spock’s skin, thoughts shifting to the practicalities of the matter.
“Of course,” Spock agreed. “There are Starfleet regulations for non-religious facial and body piercings. Generally speaking, it is preferred that body piercings are reserved for off duty wear, save for ear lobe piercings.”
“Hm,” Chris grunted. How was it that Spock could sit, buck-ass naked on the floor of Chris's quarters, citing Starfleet regulation, and still be so fucking hot?
Chris could feel his cock hardening again, ever so imperceptibly.
Chris slid his other hand up again, so he could play with both of his boyfriend’s tits as they had this conversation.
“Would you pierce them both, then?”
Chris let his hands cage Spock’s pecs, nipples straining between his fingers as he squeezed and relaxed his grip. The visual in the mirror was...hypnotizing.
“Yes, I think so. I believe I would prefer..." Spock’s eyes caught Chris's eye in the mirror. "...symmetry.”
Chris closed his eyes as he thumbed over Spock’s nipple, imaging warm metal embedded in the soft skin.
He imagined flicking, tugging, fiddling. He imagined those piercings under Spock’s uniform. Visualized the obvious shape of them through the fabric of Spock’s shirt. He imagined other people noticing, other people realizing-
Chris was hard. Painfully hard.
“Would you get a bar? Or a ring?” Chris asked, voice hoarse.
“Vulcan piercings trend towards more organic shapes,” Spock said, voice low.
Spock's next words made all the blood rush from Chris's brain.
“Cuffs. Cages.”
Chris’s nails dug, almost painfully, into the top of Spock’s pecs at the word cages .
“To begin with, I think simple bars will suffice.” Spock’s voice was still low in Chris’s ear, despite how Chris was manhandling his chest.
Chris glanced up from where his face had been buried in Spock’s shoulder.
He had Spock’s pectorals in either grip, unintentionally pressing together to form a false cleavage. Spock’s nipples strained in different directions, slotted between Chris’s fingers.
Chris's willpower was out the window. He began moved his index fingers back and forth over Spock's nipples rapidly, toying with them.
In Chris's mind he was imagining the hypnotic flash of metal between his fingers. Fuck, he ceased obsessed. With Spock. With Spock’s tits. With Spock’s hypothetical nipple piercings.
Chris felt a hand sliding up his thigh. A warm palm on his cock made Chris's hips jump forward with a curse.
Spock moved quickly. Very quickly.
Chris let one of Spock’s pecs go to sit back and watch his cock be lined up against Spock's hole again, for the second time in as many hours.
Vulcan sex drives were no fucking joke, and Chris really couldn’t afford to forget it.
He watched Spock arch his back and lift his ass up.
Spock’s hole, green and puffy, relaxed easily around Chris’s swollen shiny head for the second time tonight. Chris moved his hips forward, slowly, as Spock began to impale himself.
The moved together, Chris forward, Spock letting his weight fall back.
As Spock bottomed out the Vulcan let out a low, quiet moan.
Chris leaned forward— mostly to press open mouth kisses against the nape of Spock’s neck— but also to grab both Spock’s tits again.
Spock’s hands were now braced against the mirror, tacky hand prints on the smooth glass.
Chris began rutting into Spock sharply, angling his thrusts more vertically than he would with a human male partner.
Spock’s prostates (yes, prostates, plural) were further up in Spock’s rectum than they would be a human, closer to his internal testes. Sex with a Vulcan male had been a learning curve. Good thing Chris now considered himself a lifelong student. And Spock, naturally, was an excellent teacher. Chris now knew a great deal more than any human might need to know about double frenulums.
Chris moved his mouth over Spock’s skin before pressing his forehead between Spock’s shoulder blades to watch his cock disappear into Spock’s hole.
Come from earlier slicked his cock, the white mess clinging between them every time Chris pulled out. The creamy liquid gathered and oozed from the edges of Spock hole every time Chris thrust in. The sound of it was incredible— slick and tacky. The sound made Chris thrust even harder.
In his hands, Chris felt the power from his own thrusts move Spock. Chris let himself squeeze's Spock's pecs once more...before adjusting his grip.
Spock’s sudden gasp made Chris laugh dryly.
Chris was now pinching Spock’s nipples punishingly between his thumb and index fingers.
It might have been difficult to keep this grip while thrusting, but Chris did actually have a preference for endowed partners. This was not his first rodeo.
The low, continuous whine Spock was letting out at the change in grip made it all worth it. Chris sped up his thrusts and Spock's whine devolved into low gasps as Chris twisted and pulled at Spock’s nipples.
Fuck, Chris wanted Spock’s nipples pierced so badly. He wanted to come all over Spock’s pierced chest, silver metal barbells twinkling up at him. He imagined the weight of those piercings forcing Spock’s tits to perk up more, practically happy to see Chris. He wanted to lay Spock down on the edge of his bed and fuck his throat while Spock played with his own piercings, thumbing them and rolling them around as he housed Chris’s cock in his throat.
Fuck, he wanted to cop a feel in a turbolift. Feel the hard bar under the fabric of Spock uniform. How much could he get away with? A couple of tugs? Maybe even some under the uniform action? Before, of course, stepping back and politely waiting for the turbolift to open and let other passengers on. Passengers who might see the rumpled state of Spock’s uniform and they might know, they might know—
Chris came so fucking hard.
Fucking christ.
Fucking christ.
This orgasm lasted longer than his earlier orgasm had. Chris could feel the muscles in his stomach strain and twitch as he came continuously. Chris could hear Spock’s gasp at the sensation of Chris coming inside him. The gasp was music to Chris’s ears.
Chris still felt his heart hammering in his chest even as his orgasm began to recede, he was so keyed up. Fuck, when was the last time he'd come this hard?
Chris slid his hand from Spock's abused and beloved pecs.
Chris reached down to pull himself out, dazedly admiring the long strands of come clinging to his cock as he removed himself.
He waited.
Pearly globs began to dribble out of his lover’s well-used hole. Again. It was leaking down Spock’s already messy thighs.
Chris had a sudden vision, like a punch to his gut, of come dripping off twinkling perineum piercings nestled against blushing green skin.
Fuck. Nope. Shelve that one for later. Chris couldn’t possibly come anymore tonight.
...Still, he wasn't a saint.
Chris took Spock’s hold of Spock’s hip, angling him up and thrusting three fingers in without warning.
Spock’s hole twitched at the sudden intrusion, but barely tightened up, stretched out and sloppy. Chris began fingerfucking Spock roughly, quickly.
When Chris glanced up from Spock’s leaking, sloppy hole, he saw that Spock’s forehead was now braced against the mirror. One elegant hand was lifted to his own chest where the vulcan was tugging, scratching, pulling at his already abused nipples. Spock's other hand was flying between his legs with a wet sound that complemented Chris’s thrusts from behind.
Chris couldn't help squeezing the head of his own softening cock, feeling it twitch as he watched his boyfriend get himself off using his ass, cock, and nipples.
A low, desperate grunt was the only indication Chris had before the wet splatter of come splashing against glass announced Spock’s climax.
Chris slowed his fingers before stopping completely, fingers still inside Spock as Spock’s fist wrung out the last of his own orgasm. After a moment of watching rising and falling shoulders, Chris finally removed his fingers, come dripping off them.
Chris settled on his ankles again, leaning back on one hand.
Jesus fucking christ.
Spock remained where he was for a moment.
Then Spock shifted his hips, ending up on his side, before twisting to face his body towards Chris.
The Vulcan’s body was a mess of green markings and rapidly drying come.
The two sat there for a moment, staring at each other.
“We are scheduled for shore leave at Casperia Prime in two weeks,” Spock’s voice was surprisingly level. “Their estheticians are discreet.”
The words took some time to register.
Good lord.
“We won’t be discreet if I blow you in an alleyway next to a piercing shop, after you get your nipples fucking pierced for me, ” is what Chris wanted to say, but his chest was still heaving.
Chris settled for reaching forward to pat Spock’s ankle before leaning back onto one shaking arm with a deep sigh, closing his eyes.
Those piercings, if Spock got them, would be the death of him. God fucking help him.