dreaming_k (dreaming_k) wrote,

Star Trek XI: Pillow Fight (Kirk/Spock)

Title: Pillow Fight (I know, I suck at titles, but I can't come up with anything other than the prompt itself.)
Fandoms: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Prompt: 'pillow fight' on my bingo card from schmoop_bingo
Genre: schmoop, romance
Words: 1578
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any characters of the show or the movies. Just dreaming :)
Summary: Academy AU snippet: Spock is ignoring Jim, a pillow fight ensues.
This is a sequel of sorts to Bedtime Ritual. You don't have to read that to understand this story, though.

Author's note: Concrit is always welcome. Speak your mind!

Pillow Fight

Jim Kirk rounded the corner of their apartment building in a controlled sprint, the final spurt of his matutinal jogging routine, before gradually slowing until he came to a complete stop in front of their entrance. He used the three flights of stairs to execute a series of stretches to loosen his muscles from the exercise while making his way up to their apartment at a sedate pace.

A finger print scan later he entered his and Spock's apartment, making a beeline for the bathroom. He dropped his clothes and stepped into the hot, pounding water spray, grateful once again that he had persuaded Spock to take a unit with the option for both sonic and water showers. Sonics were ok for quick and easy cleaning, but after running 5 miles, sweat dripping from every pore, he craved the soothing feeling of hot water on his tired muscles. Not everyone was as skittish around water as his boyfriend, who could give a cat a run for its money with his slightly panicked, disapproving glare whenever Jim mentioned he should 'just try it once'.

Clad only in a pair of black boxers, he left the bathroom to get something to eat. Spock was neither in the living room nor the kitchen. Probably still meditating, Jim thought. He selected one container of the ready-made plomeek soup his lover preferred. Ever since they'd moved in and Spock had access to an actual oven and kitchen, he had insisted on foregoing the replicator and consequently slaved every Sunday on preparing enough soup to last him the rest of the week.

"Of course it is logical for me to do so, Jim," Spock had explained to a skeptical Jim. "The taste is superior as controlling the process of preparation myself allows me to add several nuances in flavor that are too complex for the replicator to simulate."
Yeah, logic my ass, you just don't like that the replicated version doesn't taste as good as your mom's.

Jim had no such compunctions and cheerfully ordered his breakfast - scrambled eggs with bacon and toast - from the device every morning. He put Spock's soup in the oven to heat, set his plate next to it to keep warm, and went in search of his boyfriend.

As he'd assumed he found Spock where he'd left him earlier in the morning, kneeling on the mat next to the bed, eyes closed and deep in meditation. The meditation lamp still sat in front of him or Spock in front of it?, but the flame was gone. Jim might have been more leary to have an open, unwatched fire in their apartment, if he didn't know that Spock put the flame out during the night, once he had reached an acceptable focus to proceed without it.

"Spock?" Jim called softly. "I have breakfast ready."

No movement, no response.

"Spock," he called again, louder this time.

"My hearing is excellent, Jim. There is no need for you to raise your voice." Jim winced.

"Sorry, are you still meditating?" Spock opened one eye, the appendant eyebrow rising in an expression that clearly said What does it look like, little Human?

"Sorry," Jim said again, sheepishly. "But since you're awake now, could we have breakfast?"

Spock closed his eye again. "I still have 2.16 minutes remaining of the time allotted for this meditation period."

Jim blinked. Spock didn't move.

"But I'm hungry," he whined. "And you're obviously awake already."

Still no reaction. Jim's gaze fell to the bed between them and a mischiveous idea lit up his eyes. He gave into the notion, picked up the nearest pillow and threw it at his boyfriend. For a moment he could have sworn he saw the dark, Vulcan eyebrow twitch in irritation, then it was gone and he looked as serene and calm as he had before.

Jim grumbled and snagged the second pillow. "C'mon Spock." When the desired reaction didn't come, Jim aimed and threw the second pillow, hitting his boyfriend square in the face. Sadly, that meant he didn't get to see the eyebrow twitch again; by the time the pillow allowed gravitation to drag it down, the Vulcan mask was back in place.

Jim had just placed one knee on the mattress to crawl over to Spock and the pillows, when Spock suddenly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him. The expression in his eyes alternated between irritation and amusement at Jim's antics. Jim had just enough time to discern the flash of mischievousness that followed - and wow, he'd never seen that look on Spock before - before the Vulcan was off the mat and a pillow smacked Jim right in the face.


Childlike instinct had him catch the pillow as it fell and roll over to the right and off the bed before the second missile hit. Spock dove over the mattress to retrieve his pillow. Now they both stood facing each other, both armed with a pillow. Delight filled Jim at Spock's playfulness and he gave him a huge grin. Then he faked a lunge to the right before launching himself right at Spock, who had moved to intercept him. Subsequently, they came together on the bed, hitting and deflecting with their respective pillows, ducking and weaving, using blitz attacks and evasive manoeuvres alike on the instable ground of the mattress.

This was different than the sparring they sometimes did at the gym, Jim noticed. Even though they both gave it due concentration and effort, there was still a playfulness inherent in their actions that made it clear this was a game and for fun.

Jim dodged another pillow blow and nearly stumbled over the covers bunched up at the foot of the bed. Spock caught his arm before he could pitch over backwards and maybe crack his head open on wall and floor. A quick smile in thanks was given and received and then they were back behind their respective lines.

A high swing left Spock's robe clad flank wide open to attack. With a triumphant crow Jim dropped the pillow and dove in, fingers twisting and scrambling over the silky material until Spock gave a choked off howl that might have been a laugh on anyone else. Grinning in delight, he tried to elicit a similar reaction, tickling Spock, who'd dropped his own pillow by now and was strongly twisting to escape Jim's clutches.

Vulcans are three times stronger than Humans. A fact that Spock had reminded him of repeatedly since they'd met and that was making itself clear now as the Vulcan quickly caught Jim's hands and held them in a strong grip to keep him from tickling Spock again.

Spock crowded into him until Jim lay on the bed between their forgotten pillows, staring up at Spock with wide eyes as Spock transferred the grip on Jim's hands to one of his own. Jim strained against it and yeah, one hand was still enough to trap him, damnit. Slowly Spock raised their joined hands high above Jim's head, pressing them into the mattress. His free hand skimmed down the inside of one arm, over his shoulder, stroking Jim's neck, then down his chest and Jim could see where this was going, could see it in Spock's dark, amused eyes and the knowledge left him in breathless anticipation, because he knew that any second now, any second, the hand would stray on its downward journey.

The knowledge didn't help when Spock's hand moved to his side, tracing the edge of Jim's ribcage with his thumb. Jim squirmed against the tickling sensation, but with Spock sitting on his thighs, knees to either side of Jim's legs, and leaning over him there was no way to escape it.

Jim took a deep breath and suddenly, as if he'd waited for this specifically, Spock began tickling him in earnest. Jim's breath left him in a whoosh and he couldn't keep in the giggles and laughter Spock elicited with his clever hand. His body was writhing against the sensation unconsciously as he laughed and laughed and laughed until he had tears leaking from his eyes and into the mattress beneath.

Finally the Vulcan ceased.

"Do you cede?" He asked, voice deep and low and just a bit breathless and God, he's so sexy like that.

"No," Jim panted, noticing that this was the first time they had spoken since they started their mock fight. Immediately the clever hand darted in to tease his ribs again, gifting Jim with fluttering, random touches against the sensitized skin of his sides that tickled him into submission.

"Wait!" He finally cried through his giggles. "Wait! I give up." Spock stopped and Jim lay there struggling to get enough air into his lungs. He grinned up at his boyfriend.

"Man, you are lethal at this. Isn't pillow fighting and tickling against the Vulcan code of conduct or something? Where's the logic?" He chuckled. Spock, still kneeling above him, let go of his hands and cupped Jim's face with both hands. Their eyes caught, held, like they sometimes did, in a deep connection, linking them in an intense communication of .... something. Jim could never quite grasp what, because the exchange was so powerful and encompassing it escaped his understanding.

Finally Spock spoke. "It makes you happy."

He gave Jim a deep kiss, then lifted himself off him and the bed. "Come, you need sustenance if you are to excel at you exams today."

Jim stayed where he was, staring after Spock, still a little dazed and a lot breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with pillow fights and tickling.
Tags: fanfiction, kirk/spock, star trek xi

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