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Jim sat in the bridge, impatiently tapping his finger against one of the armrests of his chair. Earlier that day, he, Spock, and a few members of security had beamed down to an unknown planet. On said planet was a microbe very similar in structure to the Vulcan stomach bug, unfortunately for Spock.
After beam-up, Spock had been more quiet than usual. A few hours later, he had all but run from the brudge, looking sickly pale with a sheen of sweat over his forehead. Jim had never seen Spock sweat before— had never seen him run like that, either. Not even a word of warning. It was troubling.
Jim hurried after him, then rang sickbay, for good measure. He had no idea what to expect, horrific images passing through his mind of Spock suffering from unknown effects of the planet they were studying. Then he heard it.
A quiet, coughing, grunting, groaning kind of sound. Heavy breathing, coming from the nearest bathroom. Sounds he had rarely heard from Spock, but nonetheless, could recognize easily. Against Jim's will, his cock twitched in his pant.
Jim leaned against the wall outside the bathroom, willing his erection to go away. Not now, anytime but now! He pressed the comm, calling for Bones to quickly come to their location, to assess the situation.
Bones kept him in sickbay for a while after that, but said that he would be just fine. They just had to let the virus work it's way through his system. Spock would be allowed to return to their quarters at shift change, when Jim would be able to care for him.
The rest of the day, Jim was growing increasingly distracted while on the bridge. Thankfully, they were simply orbitting a planet, scanning and studying.
Jim knew that he had some… strange fetishes. Inexplicably, he found himself drawn to vomit. It was something he kept close to himself, something he would never allow himself to indulge in. He had to care for Spock, couldn't allow himself to grow distracted by the images haunting his mind. Spock, crouched over the toilet, a disgusting, moaning mess. Jim's hand wrapped around his dick, stroking him to completion as he spilled his stomach. He closed his eyes, grabbed the sides of his chair with enough force to turn his knuckles white.
It would be impossible to hide his arousal, not from Spock, who was always just a little present in the back of his mind. Jim's heart raced at the idea of losing Spock, making him disturbed or uncomfortable. Jim only hoped that Spock would be able to look past whatever was going on in Jim's head.
It was an endless battle against his own rising fear and arousal. Fantasies that Spock would indulge in Jim's kinks, might fuck him while fighting the rolling tide of vomit in his stomach. Then, worry that Spock would instead be disgusted with Jim.
By the time the boatswain whistle went off, signaling the shift change, Jim felt intensely dizzy. The deadly combo of powerful anxiety, anticipation, and arousal. Jim was out of there faster than anyone could blink. The bridge crew would understand— of course the captain would want to take care of his husband.
"Medbay to captain, this is McCoy." Rang out one of the many comms on the wall.
"Yes, Bones? Is everything alright?" Jim sounded like he'd just run a marathon, out of breathe from his increased heart rate.
"'Bout as alright as things can be on this tin can. Just wanted to let you know that I brought Spock back to y'all's quarters… And, uh, Jim? Tread lightly. The Vulcan is just mortified by this whole situation."
"Thanks for the heads up. See you later." Jim let go of the red button, then continued on his way to his quarters. Poor Spock. Horribly ill and with the likes of Jim, who could barely keep his erection down, to care for him.
When Jim entered their quarters, he could hear the sound of sonics turned on, the door open. Cautiously, he moved to the bathroom.
There was Spock, doubled over the toilet, just where Jim thought he'd find him. His blue tunic and undershirt had been tossed off at some point. Jim tried very hard not to think about Spock's bare skin, the rippling muscles tensing as his body fought against him.
Spock was very quiet, only the occasional cough could be heard over the sonics. Far quieter than Jim remembered from before, during their shift. His heart clenched, that Spock would suppress his sounds, that he would try to lessen his illness. In Spock's mind, for Jim's sake.
He then made his approach, slow and steady, as not to spook him. The need to comfort his friend kept any dirty thoughts at bay, thankfully. Jim slowly lowered to his knees beside Spock, and placed a comforting hand to his back. Through their touch, he sent waves of love and comfort. He was less experienced with sending more complex messages, but nonetheless, Jim attempted to also convey that it's okay, I'm not grossed out, you don't have to hold yourself back.
Spock slowly turned towards his captain. His black hair was stuck to his forehead, drenched in sweat. His mouth was wet. He was panting. Jim's pupils almost instantly dilated, the darkness taking up a startling portion of his eyes.
"Jim, please… You cannot see me like this." Spock rarely sounded so desperate.
"Spock…" He gently rubbed his dull nails against Spock's back, searching for the right words. How to convince him that he had nothing to be ashamed of, that illness comes for us all, even Vulcans? Through their contact, he could feel little sparks of need. Jim wanted to wrap himself around Spock, to hold him in a comforting embrace and help him feel better.
"It's okay. Seeing you like this won't change how I feel about you." It was almost a lie. Spock's current state almost certainly changed how Jim was currently feeling about him. Just, not in the direction which Spock was concerned about.
Spock looked positively miserable. It simultaneously broke Jim's heart, and made his dick throb achingly in his pants. Very mixed signals, honestly, a little confusing.
"Jim-" Spock began, but was cut off by a sudden stream of vomit. He just barely missed the toilet. Jim's heart fluttered in his chest, and he had to take a very slow, steadying breathe to maintain any semblence of composure. He really hoped Spock wasn't paying attention to their bond right now.
Carefully, Jim moved more behind Spock. His hands moved slowly around Spock's torso, enough that Spock would have ample time to stop him, if he wanted to. His fingers gently pressed against Spock's stomach. There was a brief flinch, and then Spock, desperate for comfort, leaned into the touch. Jim's legs spread apart, allowing for Spock to be seated between them. Just as Jim had wanted to, he wrapped himself around Spock and held him tight against his front.
"Captain…" Spocked groaned out between gags. Jim couldn't take his, his dick straining painfully. He shifted, pressing his crotch against Spock's backside, seeking some kind of relief. He felt dazed, faint from how much his heart had been racing.
Tentativelt, Jim massaged Spock's stomach, relishing in the turmoil he could feel beneath his hands. His eyes fluttered shut, and he rested his head against Spock's back, his body curled around the other's. His hands itched to go lower, to touch Spock. He wanted to lick the sweat dripping down his back, wanting to turn Spock around and pull him in a kiss. Jim imagined Spock bending him over, thrusting deep inside as his stomach gurgled. He sunk deep into these fantasies, unconsciously rocking against Spock.
They stayed that way until Spock was finally done, his stomach having given up all it had. His grip on the toilet faltered, and he rested his head against the rim, trying to catch his breath. There was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing for a while.
Soon, Jim extracted himself from Spock's backside. His clothes felt wet with Spock's and his own sweat, a dark spot beginning to form around his pants from pre-cum. His heart rate slowed, and his mind began to catch up to what he'd done.
Spock didn't say a word, and slowly stood, wiping his mouth. He had a farway look on his face, his jaw slack.
"Spock, wait! Spock!" Jim called as Spock left in a hurry, dread creeping up his spine.
Jim could hear Spock gulping down some water.
"Dammit, dammit!" Jim whispered, then leaned back against the wall. He clenched his eyes shut, and his breathing grew heavy as thoughts raced across his mind. Spock had to be pissed. There was no way he couldn't have noticed how much he'd violated the other man. Jim's face was a bright red, burning with embarassment and shame. He should have listened to Spock, should have left. He didn't notice Spock's re-entry to the bathroom, nor his he notice his approach.
And then Spock was on him, pressing him against the wall, warm lips against his own. He tasted sour. Spock's tongue intruded deep into Jim's mouth, forcing a long moan out from him. Jim's hips thrust upwards, and his hands grabbed Spock and pulled him closer, forgetting about Spock's illness. The sudden motion caused Spock to gag into Jim's lips, but nothing came out.
"Spock— What are you doing?" Jim gasped, still burning a bright red.
"Captain, I could feel your desire."
"But, what about you? You couldn't possibly want this."
Spock leaned back, settled on his knees. "It is… shameful." He admitted, yet did not turn away. "But, as you have always told me: It is illogical to deny myself, if we both are wanting." He pressed himself against Jim again, thrusting against Jim's cock.
Jim felt how hard Spock was, felt the wetness from how much his sheath had leaked. Spock wanted this.
"Feeling you sate yourself upon my body gave me indescribable pleasure." He spoke quickly between kisses and thrusts.
Jim relaxed against the wall, allowing Spock to have his way with his body. He was so warm, and Jim was desperate to feel skin against skin.
Sensing his desire, Spock began to strip Jim naked, and then himself. His lok jutted between his thighs, slick and green, having emerged long ago. He rubbed one hand against it, gathering some of his natural lubricant. He then leaned forward, and spread Jim's thighs apart to press a finger, and then two, into him.
Jim could still smell the sickness on Spock's lips. His throat burned from their last kiss, and he needed more.
"Please.." He whispered, and Spock was quick to respond. He maneuvered Jim until he lay more on the ground, his head against the wall. It was an uncomfortable position, with the hardness of the floor and wall pressing into him. Jim knew his back and neck would surely be sore, but this was the most ideal position for Spock. For him to fuck him, deep, sickness hanging heavy in the hair. Spock took him in a deep kiss, responding to Jim's need. His fingers moved slowly, carefully stretching him.
Jim couldn't help put press his tongue deep into Spock's mouth, tasting. They both moaned into eachother, which on Spock's end, soon turned into a gag. He pulled out of the kiss, hanging his head as his body rebelled against him. His fingers ceased to move, distracted by the series of gags and burps which assaulted him.
Jim watched in awe. He couldn't look away when it happened, trembling slightly in anticipation for what he knew was to come. Without thinking, Jim shoved his fingers into Spock's mouth. The fingers suddenly thrust deep inside of Jim as Spock finally vomitted, mostly water now, onto Jim's chest and coating his fingers. Jim moaned, eyes rolling. He pressed his fingers against Spock's tongue, earning another series of gags. Spock moaned as Jim moved his fingers around his mouth. Then he removed the hand, now wet, and began to jerk off with it.
Spock didn't move for a while as he regained his composure, other than his fingers, of which a third had been added to. Jim gasped, could feel himself already getting close from the dual sensations of his own warm, wet hand stroking his dick, and Spock's long fingers thrusting inside of him.
Soon, Spock removed the finger. After a shared look and a nod between the two of them, Spock lined himself up with Jim's hole, and pressed in.
Spock moved achingly slow, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally bottomed out. Jim felt so full, a deep throbbing pleasure in the depths of his body. Spock let out a deep exhale and pressed his clammy forehead against Jim's.
Feeling himself getting dangerously close to coming, Jim's hand slowed to a halt. He brushed his fingers against Spock's face, and moved some of his hair off his forehead.
Spock leaned into Jim's touch, his cold human hands soothing against his burning flesh. He felt almost like he was going through Pon Farr once again; everything burned, and he wanted nothing more than to claim Jim. But now, he felt horribly ill.
"You looked amazing, Spock. So good to me." Jim gasped.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he began to rock into Jim. Neither of them needed much, and Spock couldn't handle too much movement.
Soon, he collapsed against Jim, too tired to hold himself up. The vomit on Jim's stomach had cooled, and felt nice against Spock's hot body.
"Do we need to stop?"
"No… Just.. resting." Spock tucked his face into Jim's shoulder, his lok stuffed deep inside. Curiously, Jim clenched his muscles, earning a soft grunt from Spock. Jim shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of his heavy Vulcan on top of him.
Spock was breathing heavily against Jim's neck. Occasionally his hips would jerk, and he'd let out a gentle groan. Saliva began to fill his mouth, warning him of another round. Jim's only warning was a sudden gag, and then he felt warm wetness against his shoulder, on his neck, in his hair.
"I apol—" He was cut off by another wave of sickness. Jim tried to fuck himself on Spock's lok, desperate for more feeling, though being pressed beneath Spock gave him little room to move.
"It's okay, it's better than okay." Jim felt amazing, that he could cum any second now. "Kiss me, please, please."
Spock breathed deeply. He did not think Jim would want him to get sick in the his mouth.
"Spock" Jim whined, one hand going to the back of Spock's head to press the other's lips against his own. Spock had never felt such powerful arousal coming off his bondmate, and obliged him. They kissed deeply, Jim relishing in the taste.
Spock could feel his stomach turning, they both could. His throat must be raw by now, burning and painful. Jim allowed his hand to fall back to his side, allowing Spock to pull back if he wanted to.
He suddenly did pull away, but not quick enough. All Spock had left in him was water and stomach acid, and the burn was pleasant in Jim's mouth. Inside of him, he could feel Spock's lok throbbing, pumping Jim full of his cum.
Jim moaned, and forced his hand between their stomach's. He jacked himself quickly. Spock eventually rolled off of Jim, exhausted. Jim quickly finished, and lay there on the floor, covered in their shared mess for a moment to breathe. Spock's breathing became slower, the Vulcan falling into a deep sleep.
Eventually, Jim had to pull himself to his feet. He got a few warm, wet washclothes, and gently wiped down Spock's body, then dried him. Once he was sufficiently clean, Jim was able to wake him enough to carefully walk him to their shared bed. He set a glass of water on Spock's nightstand, and left a trashcan beside his bed. Then he went off to clean both himself, and their bathroom. Finally, he was able to slide into bed with Spock.
When Spock awoke the next morning, he was feeling much better, though hungry and dehydrated. The Vulcan body was exceptional at fighting off illness, though it took a bit of a 'scorched earth' strategy when doing so.
"Spock." Jim began, rolling to look at where Spock lay.
Spock turned and faced him, one eyebrow raised.
"Last night" He began, now nervous. What if Spock had been in some kind of feverdream daze last night, and had no idea what he was doing? A cool rush of panic flooded down his spine, maybe his skin prickle uncomfortably.
"Was mutually enjoyed, I assure you, Jim." Spock scooted in closer beside Jim. "It pleases me to have shared something so personal."
Jim smiled brightly, "Thank you, Spock. Feeling better?"
"Yes, though I imagine that the tyrannical doctor will require I remain for the day."
"I'll miss you on the bridge. And, uh…" He trailed off. Spock looked on passively, waiting. "If that ever happens again… Would you like to…?"
"Yes. I would imagine myself to be amenable. Perhaps we can explore this predilection further, t'hy'la."
Jim raised both eyebrows to that, then planted a kiss against his beloved's lip before rolling out of bed to get ready for the day. Spock, still quite exhausted from his ordeal, fell back asleep.