[mirror!Pike and nu!Spock] -- [Private, uncommentable]

[mirroredcommand]

This is rated NCC-1701. Seriously. This gets quite graphic. Read at your own hesitation. Not suitable for ANYONE, but if you have a very filthy mind, enjoy!



Security was standing there, two of them directly to either side of the lone occupied cell of the brig. It was so quiet that the hum of the ship seemed more audible then normal. The protected cell was generous for a cell, and its occupant sat on the bed, sprawled casually as if he was in his own bedroom instead of a prisoner.

[OOC: This entire thread takes place between Ensign Spottacus leaving the brig and Spock returning to his quarters and talking with Jim. During this time, amazingly, no one came and checked on the prisoner. This thread cannot have comments as it occurred in private and has already occurred.

ALSO NOTE: As laid down by cso_spock, the security cameras have been incredibly well edited to show nothing out of the ordinary occurring.

P.S. to the Enterprise herself - Done under Cmdr. Spock's codes and the like, the editing would have only been noted somewhat and since the cameras otherwise off, unknowing that it was occurring.]

Comments

[cso-spock.livejournal.com]

Spock approached the detention cell alone, having already declared to the security office that he would be performing an interrogation and he was not to be disturbed until he called otherwise. He carried type-2 phaser, set to higher-intensity stun, and it felt odd to carry it around on the ship itself.

"This will be a secure interrogation," He told the two guards, unwavering in his firmness and tone; the indisputable first officer of the ship.

"But sir--" One of the guards tried to protest, but he silenced him with simply a look.

"I have already told the watch officer of my intentions here, and suitable precautions. Any protests you maintain should be directed first at him," This seemed to be enough for them, as the two guards failed to come up with a suitable excuse to further question his authority.

When they were gone, down the corridor, Spock reached out and disengaged the forcefield barrier. He stepped forward, but no farther than the archway. Apprehension was only logical, he told himself, given the events that have transpired between them. The phaser was only a small comfort at his hip.

[In the mind meld]

[cso-spock.livejournal.com]

This is not what he imagines Pike's mind to feel like at all. It makes him give a mental shudder because it feels cold and sadistic and entirely unwelcoming. He struggles to find a foothold in a mind he's not supposed to touch, and it's like he's sinking through quicksand into a darkness he knows he can't fight.

Spock starts to open up the layers with reluctance. He knows what he needs. He has an idea where to get it. But he knows the mind is never a straightforward path, and the likelihood that he'll run into something he doesn't want to see is staggeringly high. Pike's probably got everything up at the surface, too, just from their short conversation, and the last thing he needs is to run into an image of himself-but-not. Just one more existential and identity crisis.

[Back to reality]

[cso-spock.livejournal.com]

"Captain." There is just the lightest hit of exclamation at the end, punctuated by desire he's still keeping mostly under wraps. But it's also louder, he's arching into Pike's thrusts...


He can't take it anymore. This meld has proved too much for him, this mind is too dynamic for his skill, and he admits that. Spock admits defeat and pulls himself back. It's not the smoothest withdrawl he's ever made, either, but he doesn't really care if it knocks back a sharp headache in the back of Pike's mind. He deserves it.

But now there's a problem. In the physical world, he's breathless and flushed, one knee supporting some of his weight against the mattress, otherwise standing over this--man. His fingers don't move from the meld points on his face despite the fact the meld has dissolved; it's just enough contact to allow things to stream past barriers that he hasn't bothered to close yet. The rest of his body doesn't move, either. He's feeling absolutely humiliated because even though it wasn't him, it was his body inch for inch, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he'd never imagine Captain Pike and himself as a cadet, then as an instructor--

Spock's staring into those cold, dark eyes, but his stare is unfocused, because not only has he been assaulted by the pure, unadulterated images, but also the remnants of his own passion felt through another, the startling power of who he witnessed it through. His mind's in a dark haze that he can't get a grip on and thus can't push away. All he can do is stand there, and wait for the man to make his move, because Spock knows (in the back of his mind) he can't.

[cso-spock.livejournal.com]

Spock's tongue briefly touched the thumb that had slid between his lips--practically welcome after what he had had to suck into his throat.

After a moment of pause, his eyes opened; they flickered from Pike's face to the archway and back. No. Pike couldn't escape; there were more forcefields to get through.

Spock drew his mouth away from the thumb, and rolled back onto his feet. He turned (suspicious still, even especially after letting forcing him to suck his cock) to face the wall opposite Pike. Once raising his arms, the wall felt cold beneath his palms, and if he glanced down--which he wouldn't--he could see how hard he still was.