In the After Time

[mirroredcommand]

After Jim and his Spock had left, Pike retreated into himself somewhat. He settled back into the chair he had left, his eyes closing and hand cupping his chin. Much had happened and been learned in a very short amount of time, some that had changed his very knowledge of not only this universe and their situation, but the people involved.

Kirk. That was a surprise in all of itself. Instead of the annoyed brat with a huge ego and a surprising sense of ruthless, charm, and intelligence to back it up, he was meeting someone he almost could respect. There was a keen sense of intelligence behind those golden eyes, tactile and strong, though obviously naive in certain cases. Even that naivety seemed protected by the knowledge of being aware of it. A most strange situation, but it came together in someone that in their universe, he would have considered a truly enemy.

Instead, he found himself surprised in the sense of having enjoyed himself within the limiting concerns of circumstance. There was a play between himself and Kirk that was as intricate as the game of chess that had been played out. Pike's eyes opened to focus on the board before him, pieces assembled off to either side. White, and black, with no shades of gray. He had found himself without another move, unable to win. Yet Kirk had been in the same circumstance. Both trapped, unable to make another move to win.

How very much like life.

Then, there was Spock. So similar to his own, yet vastly different. Shades of gray, indeed. He was curious to what had occurred during that mind meld that had drawn such reactions from his own bond mate, curious about the differences that were far more difficult to see. The relationship between the two men was unlike their own, forged in a vastly different way, but with the same purpose behind it.

He looked to his own Spock, who looked both thoughtful and tense to his knowing eyes and inner-sense brimming over from the bond between them. There had been a sense of dodging, avoidance, that he wanted to know the truth of.

"Spock."

Comments

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock was not modest. Shame for ones body was illogical. He enjoyed his mate's form and knew very well that Christopher enjoyed his. But for the moment, at least, he left his clothes where they were, rumpled by his slow strokes, constricting his movements in a pleasant way.

I did enjoy marking you.

He is still full of that fierce satisfaction, can still smell his own scent on Christopher's skin. And the bruise on his mate's neck pleases him most of all - humans had such a weak sense of smell but even they would see and know.

Your distaste makes it even sweeter.

It is similar to his own bending but flavored uniquely, with a tang of discomfort every time.

But it is sweetest to give in to you, to make that choice.

His voice is less calm now and a slow, delicious writhing shudder moves him for a moment, displayed for Christopher to see.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

The rope between his fingers became an instrument. He played it, playing their bodies, gasping as his own body reacted to every motion. It was strange, as if the motion of stroking his own cock had every bit of its effect on his mate as well.

He could not more look away from Spock's movements then he could have stopped breathing, yet his fingers continued. Quick strokes, slow caresses, a firm grip, testing and playing with pressure, speed, and motion to see what garnered the most reaction from them both.

Let me hear you cry out. Don't hold anything back.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock did not practice much in the way of self-restraint when it came to his passions, his violence, his curiosity. As Christopher had tamed the beast of his will, he had slipped his own tight leash more and more. Christopher had encouraged it and Spock had enjoyed the freedom of wallowing in his nature.

So he did not hesitate once permission was given.

Christopher, mine.

It was almost an endearment.

Christopher, I did not know it would feel like this.

He was interrupted by his own gasping moans, spurred on by his own touches, by Christopher's manipulation of the manifestation of the bond.

He writhed.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike would prefer if Spock never used that self-restraint except when it was necessary. There was a distinct pleasure at having the panther tamed by his hand alone.

His body rocked against nothing before he decided this was foolish. He looped the bond in his fingers and moved over Spock, trailing the rope of the bond across the green-flushed skin. His mind whispered soundless encouragement, his hand brushing the bond over each bit of skin. Testing every bit of possible feeling that could be drawn from this new knowledge.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He hisses when the bond touched the bare skin of his belly, moved all speed and efficiency to strip off the clothes he had left on until he was as naked as Christopher, bare in his mind.

Christopher encouraged the beast in Spock, encouraged and then controlled it. As the crew of the ISS Enterprise had discovered in their captain's absence, the man in Spock could not entirely contain the animal alone. He could, he knew, relearn the control of it. One day he would have to - already the difference in their age was apparent, commented on by those wary enough to speak in whispers far from either of their hearing.

But that was not today.

When the bond trailed over his chest, he growled.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Vulcans lived two, three times as long as the average human. Pike was already more then a third of the way through that life, and his body would slowly change until he could no longer retain his position as Captain.

He had once commented that he would die before he turned into a useless old man, but that day was far from now.

Yes. A single word of encouragement for that growl as Pike's eyes met Spock's.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He held Christopher's gaze and growled again, stopped touching himself and turned his body, rose up and prowled closer on his hands and knees. The feral quality that James T. Kirk had noticed was glowing brightly in his eyes, rippling in the movements of his muscle, directing his predatory stance.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike shifted back with that feline motion, the bond shimmering in his hand, his one brow raising as he gave a questioning, perhaps daring, look to his bond mate. Well? He suggested, watching the creature he had in his grasp.

The bond proved just how much Spock had him as well.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He rubbed against Christopher's seated body, curled around him, growling.

It was an effort to find his words again.

Did you not wish to erase him from my mind? How will you make me forget

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

I will make you forget everything but me. Pike turned his head and bit down on flesh, his eyes blown wide in lust, the sheer volatile nature of Spock's emotions under that usually-calm surface affecting him. It was adding to his lust, crying out for him, to dominate, take what was his.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

The bite of teeth into flesh pulled an animal noise rip from his throat - he pushed closer against Christopher's body.

Make me.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

He moved all at once. A man trained against Vulcans, for heavy combat, trained in hand to hand to make the most use of his gloves. He linked his arm under Spock's with the next motion of the half-Vulcan's body, forcing his knee to press-out Spock's own, and threw him over onto his back.

He was there a moment later, fingers curling around his throat.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He could fight back, does for an instant and then pushes back the urge.

He lays on his back and bares his throat more fully to Christopher's fingers, in submission.

Anything you say, I will do.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

A strong thumb rubbed over the cartilage of the throat, and Pike smirked slowly. I never had any doubt of that.

He shifted his weight so that his other hand could grasp Spock, giving a slow stroke over hard flesh, squeezing a little more.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

This was the defining point - neither beast not man nor human, Spock chose to be open and vulnerable and under this human's control despite everything in him rising up and insisting he defend and rend and recapture his dignity and logic, his control and intellect.

Instead, he had mewling pleasure noises and abandoned what little control he had left.

Please. Tell me what you would have me do.


It was all his lover's will.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

With a quick squeeze, Pike released Spock and moved to straddle on either side of his head. Bracing himself on the balls of his feet and his knees, Pike wrapped his fingers around his own cock, stroking it once before smirking again.

Suck.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

He is, in this state of willing submission, profoundly grateful for the instruction.

He obeys.

He cranes his head up, the angle awkward, to take Christopher's cock into his mouth as deeply as possible. He sucks. He also licks and allows the occasional gentle scrape of teeth - Christopher likes a sharp edge on his pleasure and Spock is thoroughly focused on that, completely so.

It would be easier if he could use his hands but that was not the direction so he moves his hot mouth desperately, needy and hungry for anything Christopher wishes to give him.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Good. Pike murmured. They've been together too long for it to be the words of dark hatred and anger and pure domination that the beginning of their odd relationship had been. Even the Terran Empire cannot stop simple human [mixed or not] emotion from doing what it was meant to.

Just like that. His fingers grip Spock's hair, his hips rocking into that over-heated orifice. The grip had to be painful, but it did not let up.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

In these moments, he lived for Christopher's praise. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, moaned into his mate's mind.

The grip in his hair was painful but his body perceived it as just another sensation, another bit of sensory input pushing him deeper into a submissive state, reveling in the way his lover used him.

He would suck harder, do whatever it took, but just like that echoed in his mind and restrained him better than any high-security restraints would have been able.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

There was a double pleasure in being able to fuck Spock's mouth, rocking into pulling pressure and out again with only the desire to return again. He let words spill from his mouth, talking with control as he gave constant encouragement, phrases that could have been insults but they both knew better.

His grip loosened only a moment so that the edges of his thumbs could brush Spock's ears, then drop down so they could dig into the space between his jaws and keep them open so he could use that familiar mouth.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

It was all sensory input - Christopher's voice burning over him, the words did not matter.

Though they did - it was like ritual now.

He settled himself, opened his mouth, all pliant, unthinking heat for Christopher's pleasure.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Only when he was on that very brink, right at its edge, did Pike release his grip on Spock's head and shift back completely, denying himself, denying Spock as well. He stared down at Spock with eyes that were all pupil, panting.

He hooked an arm under the hips and drew them up, sliding down in the sand and taking Spock into his mouth. His fingers curled around the bond, and for a moment, he wondered if it was possible to drag Spock over to those other cords and affect more then just himself.

The idea was incredibly tempting.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

The continued stroking of the bond and the pressure of Christopher's mouth carried him both further and more quickly than he would have expected - if he had been thinking about it. He made broken noises and his hands scrambled on the ground seeking purchase, something to grip to alleviate the pressure building underneath his skin.

He caught a glimmer of Christopher's idea and one of his cries sounded like a sob. Everyone would know - or at least his counterparts. They would feel it and know that he had no control of his own, that it was all his lover, all his mate, all Christopher.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

You will back up. It would bring Spock right onto that tangle of threads. He wanted to prove it, show it, like the lion's roar, to impress upon each mind. Spock was his, and his alone.

He brought his head back, eyes narrowed. Command.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Another broken sobbing sound, but it is not of protest. Spock quivers where he is for a moment and, after a breath, pushes himself back against the tangle.

He wails.

There is no other sound for it - the threads feel like they are cutting him, the same slice and burn of his brand and he would wonder if he will bear marks from this if he had the power to wonder anything anymore.

Everything is Christopher, his mate, his.

T'hy'la. Say you are.

He shifts and the tangled bonds feel stronger under his shoulders, not nearly so fragile as they were even when James T. Kirk's Spock was there examining them. Stronger with use, then.

Say you are my t'hy'la, as I am yours.