Adrenaline Junkie

PAIRING: James T. Kirk/Spock
SUMMARY: A year or so into their relationship, Spock enters Pon Farr and Jim is more than willing and ready to see it to the end.
NOTES: After having tried the Pon Farr prompt for the porn battle, and realizing that it was something I needed to think through even more, I decided to have a go at it again, wanting it to be a joyful union in an established relationship instead of something Spock would be worrying about, or feeling shameful about.

Jim closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, held his breath, and then let it slide between his lips in one long, even gust. The heat of the room made him sweat and he was quite glad that both Bones and Spock had been on his case for the past few hours, reminding him to drink.

He finally opened his eyes again and looked at Spock, who was, like Jim, seated, cross-legged on the floor. He took a moment to study Spock, licking his lips. He was supposed to take this time to focus on what would be happening. They didn't have all that much time, since Spock was already fighting the Pon Farr.

The only reason that Jim wasn't already on his back on the bed, legs tight around Spock, was because the stern Vulcan had insisted they did it this way. The right way, the Vulcan way.

Jim had to wonder just how much will power this was costing Spock. He could feel Spock's blood singing, rushing hotter than normally through his veins. The bond never failed to surprise Jim, even after nearly a year.

He allowed himself to look without reserve. Spock looked magnificent. The black outfit, the long-sleeved tunic, marked with Vulcan incantations embroidered with silver thread, catching the flickering light of the candles lining the one wall. The thick candles let off a slightly sweet, musky scent and Jim wasn't entirely sure they were making him dizzy, or if the plak tow was rushing through the bond, clouding his mind as well, making his heart beat faster as he watched Spock silently.

Jim's own robe was heavy and uncomfortable, scratchy against his over-sensitized skin. He could feel sweat pooling where his thighs met his hips, feeling uncomfortably sticky around his crotch.

Spock had asked him to wear it, and Jim had no intension of saying no to any request of Spock's while they were doing this. Especially not something as simple as donning a robe like this one.

Even if it did itch like hell.

Jim took a deep breath through his nose, held it and then let it out slowly. He kept his gaze on Spock's face. A year back Jim hadn't been all that good at reading Spock, but their bond and time had given him more to work with. He could see the faint lines of tension at the corners of Spock's mouth, the slightly furrowed brow as Spock fought to maintain control. And this wasn't even the height of the Pon Farr; according to Spock it had barely begun.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down at the hypo in front of him. It was something that Bones had created, with Spock's help. Oh, McCoy hadn't liked the idea, but he'd made ,what he claimed, was the ultimate vitamin cocktail ever. Once Jim had injected himself with it, it would help his body through Spock's Pon Farr. It wouldn't negate the danger that it would put Jim in, but it would help his body keep up with Spock's. At least in theory.

Jim had tried to keep up with Bones' explanations, but all he could recall at that moment was that Bones had said that the drug would be released in his system in five stages, first upon injection, then once every 12 hours. It had earned him an evil glare when Jim had asked him if it was a doctorally approved aphrodisiac. Bones had warned him that if it took more than the two and a half days, he'd be on his own and the drug would be wearing off, leaving him to his body's own short comings.

The last had been said with a vicious grin, though Jim could tell that Bones was worried about him. Worried about both of them, really, not that he'd ever get the doctor to admit to caring about Spock as much as he did.

At least Jim had understood that it would help his body to keep going for longer than it normally would, but Bones had made no secret of that he'd need several days of rest afterwards. Jim figured if he could talk Spock into spending those in bed, it wouldn't be a problem. Without Spock there, however, he'd be bored quickly and start getting himself in trouble. All he really needed for that was an interface or PADD connected to the ship's computer.

Jim bit his lower lip and looked up again, this time meeting Spock's eyes. They were, if possible, darker than normally and it made Jim's whole body tighten with arousal. He kept his eyes on Spock's while he reached forward and took the hypo. He pressed the bottom of it to activate the substance in it and then held it against his neck.

Spock licked his dry lips and Jim swallowed hard, pushing the hypo against his skin, but not yet injecting it. Bones had said to keep it off for as long as he could. The first stage would hit his blood stream in less than a minute, but if he used it too early, he'd be feeling high before they'd even get started.

Jim watched Spock's hands, resting on his knees, watched as they curled slowly into fist. Jim could feel Spock's control frizzing at the edges and he knew it was time to move forward. He shot the content of the hypo into his bloodstream, wincing at the stinging feel.

Dropping the hypo to the side, Jim raised his hand and was surprised to see it wasn't shaking. Curling his thumb, ring and little finger into his palm, he extended the rest and halted his hand midways between them.

For a moment Spock merely looked at him, not moving from where he sat. Then slowly, he raised his hand and copied Jim's move. They had done this so often, but Jim wasn't prepared for the almost crackling feel of energy as Spock slid his fingers along Jim's.

It was a curious feeling as Jim could tell the drug was moving through his system, causing hyperawareness of his own senses, sight, smell, touch... oh yeah, touch... Jim smiled widely. At the same time he could feel Spock's reaction to that small touch of fingers through the bond. Although he was used to that, when they had sex, this was different, as if it all came through without a filter, or at least without the customary filter, because he could tell Spock was still holding back.

Jim drew in a quick breath of air, feeling light headed as Spock ran his fingers along the back of his hand and Jim could feel the tremors through the touch. When Spock's fingers dipped into the valley between Jim's ring and little finger, he couldn't hold back a gasp. He kept his eyes trained on Spock's, watching the minute changes around the eyes, the almost feverish look, the lightly parted lips... Jim turned his hand slowly, shivering again when Spock slid his fingers down over the back of it, feather soft touch to his wrist that made Jim's pulse quicken even more, caused a trickle of sweat to run down from his temple, over his cheek.

Spock reached out with his other hand, catching the drop of sweat, taking his eyes off Jim's for a moment to look at it glistening moisture on the tip of his finger. That moment, as Spock broke their eye contact, Jim felt as if a ton was lifted off his entire body, a weight that he wanted back.

A moment later, Spock caught his gaze again, held it, as he lifted his finger to his own lips and licked the droplet off.

A soft moan escaped Jim, but he didn't care. Especially not when Spock leaned forward, pushed the hot and heavy robe off Jim's shoulders, down his arms, leaving it to pool at Jim's waist. The hot air hit Jim's chest like a pleasantly cool breeze, more than welcome after the oppressive heat of the robe.

Spock continued to trail his fingers up along Jim's arm, the touch electrifying as he moved up over Jim's collarbone, up along his neck, following Jim's galloping pulse. The touch was one thing, but Jim kept getting a faint echo through their bond and if the heat and incense wasn't already making him lightheaded, that definitely did.

He didn't say anything, knew that, although Spock hadn't specifically said that he couldn't speak while they were going through this, Spock expected him to keep quiet, to not give into his usual babble. Normally, because Jim tended to babble the hornier he felt, he had thought it would prove difficult for him, but for some odd reason, it wasn't. All Jim could do was focus on Spock, the touches, the bond and the underlying sense of arousal.

Spock shifted until he was kneeling instead of sitting cross legged in front of Jim and with a scary show of power, Spock grabbed Jim's upper arms and lifted him, manipulating him into the same position.

Needles and pins didn't even begin to cover it as Jim fought to stay on his knees and not give in, lie down and stretch out the stiffness.

He didn't dare look as Spock reached down, sliding his hands down over Jim's torso, undoing the belt that held the robe together loosely. Air whirled over his skin and Jim gasped as he was finally free of the heavy and scratchy robe. He kept his hands at his sides, as Spock kept one hand on his chest, palm flat in the middle of his sternum, while undoing his own robe with the other.

Jim itched to reach out and do it for him, but Spock had already warned him that while the Pon Farr raged, Jim should allow him to take the lead. At first Jim had cracked more than a few sub and dom jokes, but only until Spock had explained he'd have little control over his strength if he had to fight with Jim. Even if Jim would be struggling, not to get away, but to be playful.

Having been at the receiving end of Vulcan strength on more than one occasion, those facts had sobered Jim quickly. At this very moment, it was all that made it through his hazy mind. Don't fight it, roll with it, let Spock lead the way for now. It wasn't like Jim didn't get to call the shots more often than not, normally. Hell, he could sort of see the appeal to Spock to, on occasion, submit himself to Jim. Especially considering it would be the other way around during Pon Farr.

With a minimum of movement, Spock had his own robe pooling around him a moment later. Before Jim could enjoy the view, however, Spock had both his hands on him, flat on either of his pecs, each movement mirrored perfectly. Jim had a stray thought in his mind that it was possible that Spock's hands were being moved through complex mathematical equations.

That was hotter than it had any right to be, by the way.

Spock slid his hands up to rest around Jim's neck and he could not help but swallow hard, his breathing quickening. For a moment, those inhumanly strong fingers closed around his throat, holding, but not painfully tight, before Spock loosened his grip and moved them upward, to frame Jim's face.

Jim didn't understand the words that Spock spoke next. They were High Vulcan and while he was getting fairly good at the modern version of Vulcan, the High one? Completely stumped him. It didn't matter, though. Because of the bond, Jim could tell exactly what each word meant with its every connotation, how and why every intonation was important.

It meant love, bond, loyalty - eternal loyalty. And this made Jim's breath even shorter than Spock's hands around his throat had. No so much the words, but the feelings he got with each sentence that Spock spoke, quietly, serenely.

Spock moved one hand further up Jim's face, his fingers finding the position for the meld with ease. He held Jim's gaze and Jim took a deep breath, projecting his agreement, his willingness and complete and utter surrender to what would happen next. The drug in his system was racing through his veins and he knew Spock was keeping most of his own need under lock, wanting Jim to at least begin this encounter with a clear head and the option of saying no.

Although Jim would never in a million years do so. He'd feared their bond at first, feared for his privacy, his sanity at times, but all those had been put to shame a long time ago.

He was sometimes amused and sometimes exasperated that Spock still tried to give him room to change his choice.

And people claimed Vulcans were intelligent beings... yeah, right, sure....

The haziness that had been there in the early days of their melds had all but gone and in no time, Jim felt his consciousness falling. It was a bit like those trust exercises they had done at the Academy. Falling back, trusting your partner to catch you. Only, this fall was longer, deeper and the landing so much more gratifying.

The only way Jim could describe it was as double vision. He was inside Spock's mind as Spock was inside his and where their bond was normally calm and quiet, it was now full of colour, emotions and the purest need Jim had ever felt, and it wasn't all Spock's, he could tell that.



Jim felt his physical body being lifted and manipulated onto his back, his legs lifted, while Spock leaned over him, panting harshly, keeping one hand constantly on the meld points. Even if Jim hadn't remembered the warning to not fool around and play-fight Spock like he'd normally do, he wouldn't have had the focus to do so. The meld was so much more powerful than what he was used to and Jim had no intention of fighting Spock in any way. He was feeling way too good to even think about it.

A part of him, not completely submerged in the meld, thanked the proper preparation that he had had time to do for the Pon Farr, because it would have hurt if Spock had just pushed in like he did without the copious amounts of lube that Jim had applied before they'd sat down.

His body was more or less bent in half and Jim was swallowed up by Spock's conscience, almost washed away by the Plak Tow, but managing to still writhe and move with Spock, in complete abandon as the drug danced him toward his first climax.

It was amazing how Spock was everywhere, how he could feel his hand, bruisingly against his hip, tight and bordering on painful against his temple, how his consciousness, not so much seeped, but crashed through every nook and cranny of Jim's, filling it all with the burning need to touch and claim, to take and keep.

Even without the drug, Jim felt the resonance in himself, how their bond thickened, grew tighter, wrapped itself around them both. It was amazing and although Spock had tried to give him an idea of what would happen during the Pon Farr, Jim had to admit that never in a million years had he imagined feeling like this.

Spock thrust hard into him, and Jim was aware of his body shaking with pent up need, his cock trapped between their bodies, but it was of secondary importance. All was overshadowed by his mind being filled with Spock's conscience, filling him like a tidal wave, reaching everywhere inside of him.

His skin felt too tight, his body too hot, and it was more than possible that he was screaming out loud, wordless noises that were inadequate in conveying how he felt when Spock's climax hit him, tearing him along in its wake. His own physical orgasm was nothing compared to the feeling of joyfully drowning on the inside, inside his head, inside Spock's head. Fuck if Jim knew, but he didn't want it to stop.

Again. It was something between a thundering voice and a soft whisper.

Jim tried to open his eyes, and when he managed, he found Spock curled up around him, over him, in him, sweat dripping from his flushed face. Jim tried to speak, but nothing came out. His throat felt as if he'd been screaming for hours. Considering that he had no timer nearby, he couldn't tell for sure if that had been the case.

Nor did he care all that much.

A low noise escaped from Spock's throat, and Jim realized that he was still hard inside him, even though Jim was sure he'd climaxed a moment ago. The meld of course meant that Spock caught Jim's surprise and the bastard actually smiled, a curl of his upper lip. Not a wide shit eating grin, but the Spock equivalent of it. Something, Jim figured, he should fear more than any other non-expression on Spock's face.

Unwilling to break the meld, and Jim still had that damned double vision, Spock shifted a little, and slid his free hand down to rest under Jim, flat against the small of his back. Inside his mind, Jim could feel Spock's conscience flowing in and around him, tightening and becoming denser.

A split second before Spock moved, Jim realized what he was doing. A quick move, and Spock lifted him, rose to his feet in one fluent move and stood still, panting for breath, still that not-quite-grin on his face.

Jim's eyes rolled back, his eyes closing involuntarily as the move meant that gravity made sure Spock slid just a little further in, as damned far as it was physically possible, and the touch to Jim's prostate was almost painful. Though it didn't keep his cock from twitching valiantly between them. The non-grin inside Jim's mind got even scarier than the one he was seeing on Spock's physical face. One superimposed over the other.

The few steps to the bed was pure torture to Jim, because each of them made Spock shift inside him and each shift brushed hard against his prostate. He might even, for a moment, have lost conscience, because when he was able to focus a moment later, to open his eyes, he was flat on his back on the bed, and it was a whole hell of a lot better than the hard floor.

Spock was rocking slowly in and out of him, and it was more than possible that Jim was whimpering as Spock's movements grew faster. Jim grinned, inside his mind, physically as well, when Spock grunted, shifted and began pounding into him.

Somehow Spock must have taken offense to that, because a second later, he covered Jim's mouth with his own, biting and nipping, his tongue hot and slick and... Jim screamed into his mouth as Spock tilted his hips just so and slammed into him, mind and body alike.

Not that it stopped Jim from grinning madly and revelling as his mind melded even deeper with Spock's and he could tell that Spock clung onto Jim's insane joy of speed and extreme need for adrenaline rushes, finally letting go completely, not a trace of worry in his mind.

The End