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[fili]

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[winscenario]

No.
just tomorrow. it's special

[logicabounds]

That is acceptable.

You are aware with the adjustment of our plans that I will not be inebriated, tonight, correct?

[winscenario]

can I assume the offer for mutual inebriation stands for another day?
I'm not that drunk anymore either. which is for the best actually, so

[logicabounds]

Another night, Ashayam.

And I am pleased you are no longer compromised. I would hate to delay our activities.

[winscenario]

yeah that'd be a bummer.
might a need a little more water and washing my face but other than that I'm all good.

[logicabounds]

I believe it is wise for me to be the final judge on your state.

I will not allow you to be harmed in any way.

[winscenario]

unless I ask for it, right?

[logicabounds]

Unless you ask for it. Of course.

And even then, within the limits I determine.

[winscenario]

spoilsport.

[logicabounds]

You have not once complained, to date.

Would this be the first?

[winscenario]

depends on whether or not you'll stop when I say 'more'

[logicabounds]

I do believe that the appeal of the act derives from the fact that I alone decide what you receive.

[winscenario]

so you'd deny me what I want? even if I ask for it? even if I beg?

[logicabounds]

It would not be easy. But if I believe it to be more beneficial or more pleasurable for you, then yes.

[winscenario]

screw that. I like it when it hurts. so make me hurt, Spock, take me apart. don't deny me that.

[logicabounds]

This is unfair, Jim.

I cannot text you sexually stimulating material but the same restriction does not extend to you.

[winscenario]

suck it up, pointy. life's unfair.

just like I've got to make the rest of this walk with a hard on in my pants but you don't hear me complaining about it.

[logicabounds]

Pointy.

I do believe you are asking quite directly to be hurt, now.

[winscenario]

yes.

[ A second later, another text follows. ]

please.

[logicabounds]

I do not believe that is the proper way to make the request.

[winscenario]

I was going for something a little more creative.
looks like it's working too, if you ask me.

[logicabounds]

Get to the room.

Now, Jim.

rolls with it

[winscenario]

Damn if that short text doesn't shoot a jolt of pleasure right down his spine. Jim bites back a groan and that's all he can do not to trip all over his feet while he's walking.

Immensely unfair— but immensely satisfying to know he can affect Spock so easily. He types up a quick text —a brief but still teasing yes, sir— then there's nothing more coming from him, and there won't be until he finally makes it back to the ship.

At this point he's sure his destination isn't a secret to the rest of the group, nor is what he and Spock are about to do. Well, the general idea anyway. No way they could know the details (except maybe for Bones, who might've caught a glimpse of the start of their conversation when he had the phone in his possession).

Regardless, what matters is that none of them try to stop him. Bones makes a vague comment about tradition but then wanders off to his own quarters, while Jim all but runs down the hallway on the deck of their bedroom, stopping for a brief moment while standing right in front of the door.

Spock's waiting for him on the other side. Jim can't even begin to imagine what might happen the moment that door slides open, but he has no doubt that his fiancé is going to catch him off guard as soon as he steps inside. Something that makes him feel both nervous and excited, and after taking a couple of deep breaths, he finally reaches the control panel.

The door opens, and he steps inside.

HA! I was wondering why the text boomeranging had stopped.

[logicabounds]

Spock is waiting, of course. But off to the side of the door, a smirk on his face that had been there since these texts began. He waits for the hiss saying that the door had shut and then shifts behind his lover, taking the strip of cloth that was in his hands and wrapping it tightly around his eyes. It was a thin fabric that allowed a bit of light through. Not the blindfold Spock would have used for complete sensory deprivation (which might be sitting beside the bed, waiting). This one allowed shadows through. Allowed Jim the ability to get a bearing for where Spock was, in relation to him. See his outline as he leaned in and kissed him softly.

His hand dips down, touching the part of him that is rock hard and probably overly eager for contact, at this point. "I see you were honest regarding your responses to my messages," he hums, already starting to undo the buttons of his trousers, slowly. It's open, then, but not pushed down. Spock's hand slips inside, squeezes, and then rests in an infuriating lack of motion.

"You wanted pain, Jim?" he asks, mouthing against his jaw before giving a light bite where it connected with his neck. "Tell me what you wish for, Jim." His hand moves. Rolls once, then goes still once more. "Tell me what you want."

There's one more bite, harder, around his shoulder. Spock's other hand is exploring the twitching muscles of his side, just under his shirt.

"And I appreciated the honorific. It can remain."

yes i slipped and fell into all these words. <<

[winscenario]

Despite being ready for the unexpected, Jim still lets out a sound of surprise when something's put over his eyes, though he doesn't so much as tense or flinch. He knows it's Spock, after all, and when he leans in and kisses him, he easily returns it, the contact breaking when a hand slides down and cups his bulge, a shaky moan spilling from his lips.

It's both a blessing and a torture, the way Spock touches him. He should've known he'd do this, but still when that hand stills Jim all but cries out in frustration, his hips bucking hard as his hands cling to Spock's shoulders. The tone in his voice spills like molten gold into him, making him burn from the inside out, and Jim feels like hearing him alone would be enough to push him over the edge at this point.

"Yes," he mewls out, his head tipping back and his whole body jolting and arching when the hand moves again. Then stops. Fuck, Spock's gonna drive him mad— and he's going to let him. "Ropes. Use the ropes. Tie me down."

A brief pause, as he sucks in a breath at the hand sliding underneath his shirt and the teeth digging into his shoulder. "Please... sir."