Mirror Spirk is back

Jim came into their quarters to see Spock standing near their bed dressed in the flowing robes he generally preferred when not on duty.

Jim narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?”

“I am obviously up to nothing, Captain.” Spock tried his best innocent Vulcan look.

Jim snorted. “Uh-huh.”

“What would you like to eat?”

He shook his head and pulled his gold crisscrossed shirt over his head. “Shower first.” He unhooked the sash that held his dagger and phaser from around his waist. “I’m dead tired and sore all over.”

He sat on the chair next to his desk to remove his boots all the while the Vulcan continued to watch him, a neutral expression on his face.

Jim sighed.

“Do you require a massage?”

“Later for that too.”

“Or…something else, perhaps?”

He snorted again. “Later.” Jim stood and unzipped his pants, shimmying out of them, turning his ass toward Spock to give him a show. When he turned back around he saw Spock’s hands flexing.

“Later.”

“If you insist on going commando—”

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

“No, Captain.”

Jim chuckled. “You’re so easy.”

Spock arched a brow. “I am not the one is easy.”

He smirked. “You complaining?”

“About the ease with which you give yourself to me? Hardly.”

Spock took a step forward.

Jim held up his hand. “Later. And do behave or it’ll be someone else I give myself to easily.”

Spock growled.

Jim just laughed and went into the bathroom for his shower. He turned it to water and stayed under the hot stream for long enough to jerk himself off twice. Damn Vulcan deserved it to take him forever to come later.

When he came back into their quarters in only his bathroom, Spock jumped.

“Adun, you-you—”

“What is it this time? Spock. I knew you were up to something.”

Spock withdrew a big ball of fluff from within his robes. It snapped its teeth at Jim.

“A tribble?”

“It is very soft,” Spock said defensively. “And it purrs because it likes me.”

Jim did that himself so he could hardly protest. “Look at those teeth.”

“He is tame, my love.”

“Sure, sure. A tame tribble. You and your pets, Spock. The last one ate all my chips and bit me.”

Spock nodded. “And he was eliminated for it. Clearly that type of creature does not do well in captivity.”

“And tribbles do?”

“Yes, Adun. He will not bite you. I promise.” Spock set the tribble down on the bed. “What do you wish to eat, my worshipped one?”

“You must be horny, you’re laying it on pretty thick. A turkey leg.”

Spock nodded and went to the synthesizer.

Jim eyed the tribble dispassionately. “What are you naming it?”

“I believe the tribble is female.”

He rolled his eyes. Spock handed him the big roasted turkey leg. He took a bite. “Fine. What are you naming her?”

“Portia.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Jim went over to his chair and sat, hiking his leg up onto the desk so that his robe fell open, exposing his already hardening cock to Spock’s gaze. “She’s not going to watch, is she?”

“Of course not.” Spock began to rub the bulge in his crotch.

“No? Because she’s on the bed, chomping those evil teeth of hers staring at me and my leg. The turkey one that is.”

“I will cover her with the sheet.”

Spock’s gaze grew hotter as he approached where Jim sat. His hand slid up Jim’s leg.

The tribble chortled.

“Spock.”

The Vulcan sighed, turned and scooped up his pet. He walked over to the laundry chute, opened it up, and tossed her in. “Satisfied, Captain?”

He took another bite of turkey leg and smiled. “Not yet. But I’d better be.”