Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and her original characters.
For inspiration, I'd like to thank Wildcat, RabbleRouser, and Trixie. HA! You guys didn't think I'd let you off the hook on this one, did you? No one beta'd this. It got off the leash and I couldn't catch it so now it's roaming wild and free.
Spock's voice was hoarse with desire, yet somehow fragile.
"What? Oh, sure. Sorry, I thought I put in enough." Kirk reached for the tube of lubricant on the bedside stand.
Touched once again by his lover's consistent thoughtfulness and consideration, it tore Spock's soul to disenfranchise Kirk's loving illusions.
"No, Jim. I do not require more lubricant. I am afraid we will be unable to complete this tonight."
Kirk slumped on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, Jim, I regret to inform you that your guess is accurate despite your failure to apply logic to the situation."
Kirk chewed his lip thoughtfully and then turned to gently tug on Spock's braid and run his fingers at the long golden strand of his own hair that twined through the silken plait.
"Spock, I've been thinking about this. You're a Vulcan."
"That means you're different than I am. Remember when we first started sleeping together? I was surprised to learn that you were completely inexperienced and I was even more surprised to learn that once you got going, you're pretty much omnisexual."
"You did Droxine. Even I wouldn't do Droxine. Not even to save the ship. Case closed."
"Jim, is there a point to this?"
"Yes. I thought maybe you'd like to surprise me again."
"In what way do you wish to be surprised?"
"Well, I was thinking...maybe hemorrhoids make butt-fucking more pleasurable for Vulcans."
"No, Spock, hear me out! It's completely logical! Practically everything else makes butt-fucking more pleasurable for you! Sandalwood, cinnamon, Rolling Stones music... Why don't we give it a try?"
"Spock..." Kirk whispered pleadingly as he pressed his hungry lips to the Vulcan's shoulder.
"All right." Kirk sighed in resignation, lay down on the bed, and closed his hand around his turgid organ.
"Jim, if you will roll over, I will--"
"Perhaps I could--" Spock reached for the hard red stalk.
"Perhaps this--" Spock opened his mouth and leaned down.
"I hate when you pout," Spock said equally flatly.
"You know what I hate?" Kirk stopped jerking himself off and sat up. "I hate when you say I'm pouting when I'm just plain bored."
"With you. With us. With what we do. There has to be something more than butt-fucking and cock-sucking and mutual masturbation!"
"There is kissing and screaming."
"We could shave each other's testicles," Spock offered.
"If you insist," Spock said, "there is spanking."
"Spock, please don't take offense at this, but the fact that you just don't 'get' spanking kills it for me. It's like rimming and felching. I can't really enjoy it if you don't."
"I have never objected to rimming and felching."
"The gagging noises gave you away. Especially when you make them while I'm doing you ."
"Perhaps..." Spock cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I have heard of a common practice among homosexual human males."
"Spock, you keep forgetting. I'm not gay. I'm a straight man who sleeps with guys."
"So what's this common practice you were about to suggest?"
"I believe it is known as fisting."
"Spock." Kirk gave a long-suffering sigh. "Hold up your hand."
Spock pressed his fingertips together and Kirk stared at the result with unqualified disappointment.
"That, my friend," he said, "is why there are no Vulcans in boxing. You think this--" He squeezed his own hand around Spock's pinched fingertips. "--is a fist. And somehow the sight of a hand poised to poke me in the eye doesn't inspire lust. Now this --" He let go and clenched his hand powerfully. "--is a FIST!"
"Jim, I do not think I could--"
"It has to do with my childhood..."
"Spock, don't take this the wrong way but please shut up about your childhood. I'm very sorry it wasn't all pony rides and birthday cake but if I have to hear about it one more time, especially as it relates to our sex life... Well, frankly, I'd rather go back to the eye-poking discussion."
There was a long, unhappy silence.
"Jim, does this mean that you believe we are no longer sexually compatible?"
"Frankly, yes. Those hemorrhoids were my last hope."
"Jim, there are always possibilities."
Kirk gave him a dubious look and began pulling on his pants.
"Jim, please listen. Have I ever told you about Gol?"
"It is a place on Vulcan. It is a refuge for those who cannot meet the rigid demands of the way of Surak."
"More or less. But it is quite comfortable and it meets several important needs. Many choose to take a sabbatical there from time to time, to test their mastery of logic against the madness that permeates the very walls of Gol. It is also the only place where art, music, and literature of any merit are created. Logic, analysis, and research are all well and good but creativity requires emotion, perhaps even an overabundance of emotion. And passion. Which brings me to its final function and the one that will perhaps prove most interesting to you. Gol is the laboratory in which tribbles were developed."
"What? Are you telling me that tribbles come from Vulcan test tubes?"
"Originally, yes. But twenty standard years ago, a man named Sybok--do not worry about him, he is of no concern to you. In fact--oh, you have a stray eyelash. May I?"
As Kirk nodded his assent, Spock reached over and gently touched Kirk's forehead.
"Forget," Spock whispered and then withdrew his hand and continued speaking in his customary tone. "This unnamed man left Gol, taking several tribbles with him. I believe you would call him a hedonist, a seeker of pleasure. Tribbles are key to that."
"I agree they're cute little animals but--"
"Jim, tribbles are not just cute little animals. They are devices of sexual ecstasy."
"Tribbles?" Kirk's voice almost squeaked with disbelief. "What do you do with them?"
Now it was Spock's turn to become impatient. "What do you think is done with them?"
"I don't know. Wrap them around your dick while you jerk off? Rub them against your nipples as part of foreplay? Pile a bunch of them onto the bed and make love on top of them?"
Spock stared at him coldly. "It is no wonder to me that humans have never discovered the joys of tribbling."
"Tribbling? Hold on...hold on...I think I'm beginning to understand. Would this be anything like gerbiling?"
"Quite similar, I believe. And I am relieved that you have figured it out."
"I grew up on a farm," Kirk said proudly.
"Jim, I am as tired of your childhood as you are of mine."
"Oh. Sorry." Kirk frowned thoughtfully. "I have to admit I'm intrigued. I'm not supposed to know this but Uhura kept one of the tribbles..."
"Jim, I doubt that she would be willing to lend us her pet so that it can explore your anal passage until you reach orgasm."
Kirk made a face. "You make it sound so clinical. Can't you say up the butt?"
"So you can do it but you can't say it?"
"Jim, please, I do not wish to end up in Gol with all the other perverts."
"I think Gol is starting to sound like the happiest place in the galaxy. I bet they're up to their butts in tribbles. And they can probably say 'up the butt' too."
"Indeed. But as to the matter at hand..."
Spock almost managed to suppress the telling gleam in his eye.
"Yessss?" Kirk drew the word out as he revealed his most disarming smile.
"Uhura is not the only one who harbors an unauthorized tribble in her cabin."
Minutes later, the two men had put their clothes on and were on their way to Spock's quarters.
"You see, Spock?" Kirk said happily. "I knew you could surprise me."
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This story has a sequel: To Say Nothing of the Tribble.
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