Payload (A Star Trek/RPF Fanfic)
Aug. 17th, 2011 07:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
therumjournalsTitle: Payload
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek / Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Zachary Quinto/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,306
Summary: Spock encounters a rogue shuttle pilot stranded in space.
Warnings: breathplay, dirty talk, allusions to some grand overarching plot that doesn’t exist. Crack pairing. PWP.
Author’s Note: I lost alllll control of this one somewhere along the way. And yes, I do realize that this might be conceding somewhat in the “who tops” argument. But I wanted to mix it up a little. And did I mention the part about losing all control?
Author’s Note 2: This was not intended to be related to my first Spock/Zach ficlet. But, if it makes you feel good, you can probably imagine it as happening in that same universe, years down the line.
“This is Captain Spock of the USS Fairmount. Please identify yourself.”
“Captain Spock? Nice!” Zach laughed into the vidscreen of his battered shuttlecraft as Spock’s image appeared on the screen. He watched closely, smirking as he saw the ripple of exasperation flicker almost imperceptibly across Spock’s features, and knew it was taking all of his Vulcan restraint not to roll his eyes.
“Captain Quinto.”
Zach leaned forward, chin in hand. “Your own ship and everything, huh. Last time we met you were still Kirk’s buttboy.”
“I was not-“
“I’m sorry, Kirk’s First Mate, or whatever you call it.”
“First Officer-“
“Sure.” Zach shrugged and stretched, long limbs overflowing his shabby pilot’s chair.
“And if I recall correctly Captain Quinto, the last time we met you were commanding a considerably…larger…vessel.”
“Come on now, Spock, you know it’s not the size of a man’s vessel that matters, but how he can…maneuver it.”
“Which at the moment, it appears, is not at all.”
“Thank you, oh newly minted Captain of the USS Obvious.” They stared at each other for a moment before Zach continued. “So? Do you think you can help me get some thrust back in this bad boy, or were you planning to leave me floating out here in the void with only a bottle of lube and the playback of this conversation to entertain myself?” He made sure his lewd gesture would be visible on Spock’s screen.
Spock turned away, moving across the bridge. “Ensign, please engage the tractor beam and pull Captain Quinto’s vessel into Shuttle Bay 4.”
Zach’s lips curled up in a slow smile and his eyes glinted. “That’s it, Spock,” he said, his voice teasing. “Open up for me. Take me into your inner recesses.”
Spock came to a stop next to his security chief, his back still to the screen. “Get Quinto whatever he needs to make his repairs. And make sure he doesn’t leave the Shuttle Bay. It is doubtful that he has showered since being kicked off of Starbase IV.”
*
Zach was on his back beneath the shuttle when he heard the shuttle bay doors slide open. He finished refastening the panel he’d been working on and wiped his hands on a rag as he listened to footsteps cross the floor and come to stop beside him.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, you know,” he said, pushing himself out from under the shuttle. “About me not showering. I’ll have you know I maintain a very strict hygiene routine in space. I smell like roses- Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Spock was leaning over the external control panel by the shuttle door, his fingers flying over the main computer screen. “When I said you could use the USS Fairmount’s resources to repair your shuttle, I was not giving you permission to transfer the entire content’s of the ship’s computer to your data banks,” he said, not looking up from the screen.
Zach rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s not like I was going to do anything with it.”
“Nevertheless, these files contain classified information, as I am sure you know, and-“
“And I can’t be trusted, blahdy blahdy blah,” Zach said, raising himself into a sitting position, but making no move to stand. “By the way,” he continued, resting his hands on his knees, “does Kirk know about your little reconnaissance missions?”
Spock’s fingers slowed to a stop. “I beg your pardon?”
Zach cocked his head. “Your little detours, the sources you’ve been paying to keep tabs on Romulan rebel factions? Those aren’t exactly Starfleet sanctioned, are they?”
Spock finally looked at him, a slight narrowing of the eyes that told Zach that he was on dangerous ground. “Since when do you care about Starfleet’s approval?”
“Since never. It’s just too bad you didn’t think to tell me about your little personal vengeance operation.”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I know people? People open up to me, Spock, they let me in, they tell me things, I don't know why. Maybe it's just something about my face." He flashed Spock his most charming a smile, rolled his eyes when it had no effect. "Or maybe because the reason I was kicked off Starbase IV involved two bottles of Romulan ale and one sniveling Romulan shitbag called Lhaes.”
Spock turned to face him fully, staring down at him, but Zach knew he had the power now. “You talked to Lhaes?”
Zach nodded. “I did. And you haven’t, I assume, given the gaping hole in your file under his name. He told me a few things that might interest you-“
“What did he tell you?” Spock said, leaning down over Zach, his nostrils flaring.
Zach smiled up at him. “Now, Spock, I’m a generous soul, but you can hardly expect me to give up that information without some kind of…exchange.”
His back was against the ground in a second, the wind knocked from his lungs – not that he could have breathed anyway, with Spock’s fingers wrapped tightly around his windpipe.
“The payment,” Spock growled, lips close to his ear, “is your life, Captain.”
Zach squirmed beneath him, twisting his head as he struggled for breath, blinking frantically as darkness encroached on his vision. Spock’s thighs squeezed against his sides, pinning him, but he continued to thrash, his feet sliding on the smooth floor. Spock made a frustrated sound and ground down, pressing their hips together. Zach’s cock throbbed, his erection suddenly trapped between them.
Spock went still. His eyes widened and he loosened his grip on Zach’s throat, just enough. Zach’s lips twisted up in a smirk as he sucked in a ragged breath.
“Caught me.”
Spock shifted, and Zach gasped at the sensation, his eyes going back in his head as Spock rolled his hips, sliding against him, sweet hot friction against Zach’s aching length. He could feel the smirk falling from his lips, replaced by bared teeth, involuntary, revealing the agony of his desire. He didn’t care, he just wanted Spock to keep moving, dragging heavily across his groin, the taunting shape of Spock’s own hardness digging a bruise into his thigh.
Above him, Spock’s expression was changing, too, his eyes darkening, teeth catching against his bottom lip as his eyelids fluttered shut, just briefly. Then open again, staring down at Zach, then inches away, and closing again as his mouth descended, smearing an impatient mockery of a kiss against Zach’s lips.
Deft fingers brushed against his straining zipper, and Zach arched up, encouraging Spock to make quick work of it, the head of his cock rubbing damply against the tight denim of his self-styled “uniform.” Their hands bumped together as Zach reached down to help shove his pants over his hips. Then Spock was fumbling with his own belt, pushing his pants down to his thighs, and Zach’s heart beat a little faster as he realized just exactly what it was that Spock was going to give to him in trade. He pressed up, moaning as flesh brushed against flesh, hot and inviting and close.
Suddenly, Spock leaned down over him until they were chest to chest, Spock’s lips at Zach’s temple, his fingers gripping Zach’s cock in a chokehold. “You will give me the information from Lhaes,” Spock demanded.
“Fuck, Spock, yes, goddammit, don’t-“ He thrust up uselessly, hips pinioned between Spock’s thighs, every hampered movement sending harsh waves of pleasure shuddering up his spine. Spock released his hold on Zach’s shaft and Zach reached down just in time to aim the glistening, swollen head upwards as Spock sank down and took him in.
Tight, slick heat enveloped his cock, and Zach let loose a string of curses as he tried with all of his might to thrust upwards, to bury himself even deeper inside. He could see the effect that his words had on Spock, sending a dark flush to the tips of his ears as he impaled himself on Zach’s rigid length.
“Fuck yeah, ride me, Spock, that’s it,” Zach told him, sliding his hands up to clutch at Spock’s hips.
“Take it, Spock, take every fucking inch of it, let me fill you up.” He jerked up, but it was a futile motion, his only control the stream of words that he spat from his lips, enflaming them both.
“Fuck yourself on me, make me come, oh fuck-“ A cruel twist of Spock’s hips tugged hard at his dick, interrupting his flow. “Does Starfleet know about you, Spock? Bet they didn’t know their hot new Captain’d be so desperate to take it up the ass from the first unshowered brigand to float by. Isn’t that right?” Spock curled his lip and growled. “You think I’m dirty, Spock? You fucking love it. You love how dirty I am, you want my stink all over you, you won’t be able to get that smell out for a month.” Zach thrust up wildly, lifting his head to sneer at Spock, wincing as fingers twisted in his hair. “Is that what you want, you dirty, sexy fucker? You want Kirk to smell me on you.”
Spock slammed down on him, driving him deep, making him gasp. Zach felt Spock’s fingers slide down his cheek and twitch against his jaw, saw the narrowed eyes flick to his mouth.
“Yeah Spock, come on, you know you want to. Do it. Shut me up.”
Then Spock’s hand was over his mouth, fingers pinched against his nose, cutting off his air, and he bucked beneath Spock as he felt the haze of dangerous pleasure descend around him. He moaned into Spock’s palm, bucked and squirmed like he was struggling, like he wanted to breathe, and Spock rewarded him by clenching hard around his cock. Zach’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved, pleasure shooting through him as his body fought for air.
It took effort to keep his eyes open, but he did, locked into Spock’s heated gaze as his limbs began to tingle, sensation radiating out from his screaming lungs and building in his groin. Fuck, he’d probably pass out if Spock didn’t let go soon, but Spock was a machine, fucking himself on Zach’s cock, swiveling his hips as he rose up and dropped down hard. Zach had a wild, conceited thought that he was farther inside Spock than anyone had ever been. He watched in awe as Spock’s face contorted, saw him lose control as he gasped out “Quinto,” and came hard, marking a new insignia across Zach’s chest. Zach’s eyes were flickering shut just as Spock let go, the air suddenly cool across his lips, and he thrust upwards one last time, pouring into Spock as he sucked in welcome lungfuls of air.
The overhead lights swam in his vision. He knew Spock was pulling off, standing up, moving away, but he could still feel the Vulcan’s heat surrounding him, his cock still burned like it was smothered, suffocated in Spock’s tight passage. Slowly, the world came back to him, a smile stealing over his features as he caught his breath, and he propped himself up on shaky elbows, laughing weakly. Sweat trickled down his temple, even as the coolness of the shuttle bay floor began soaking into his damp skin. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed again, disbelief and power and a strange feeling of contentment buzzing in his veins.
“That was….” He shook his head, his eyes trailing Spock as he brushed himself off, and put a hand on the shuttle bulkhead, trying subtly to still his trembling limbs. Not subtle enough, Zach thought with a selfish thrill. “That was something.” Spock shot him a look, disapproval at the lack of clarity in his description, no doubt, as Zach struggled to his feet. He tugged his pants up and zipped them, then walked to the shuttle, ignoring Spock and going straight for the open control panel. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen, and he gave Spock a significant look as he hit the last button with finality.
“There. Finito. You now have the tip from Lhaes in your files, the whereabouts of Nero’s defectors – Colus Mining Station, by the way. And the USS Fairmount’s files have been deleted from the memory banks.” He glanced at the spot on the floor that they’d recently vacated. “Though I can’t say I’ll be deleting that particular scene from my memory banks any time soon.” He gave Spock a salacious smile, but his eyes were tired. “I guess I’ll be on my way then.”
“You’ve completed your repairs?”
“I have, to the extent possible.” He eyed the shuttle skeptically. “She’ll make it to the next cargo port, at least.”
Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “And do you plan to procure a larger vehicle?”
Zach raised an amused eyebrow. “Are you saying I need to?”
Spock paused. “Are we still referring to your spacecraft?”
Zach laughed. “Nah, I don’t think I’ll be procuring anything any time soon. It's this fucking economy, you know how it is.”
“Indeed.” Spock looked like he wanted to say something else. Zach waited, one foot on the step up to the shuttle. “Would you consider a…partnership?”
Zach took his foot down. “A partnership?”
“You have contacts on Colus-“
“I do.”
“And you lack reliable transport-“
Zach cocked his head. “If you say so.”
“It seems that it could be beneficial for you to remain onboard the Fairmount.”
“Beneficial.” Zach took a step toward Spock.
“Economically.”
“Mmm. And would it be…beneficial…for me to spend my nights in your quarters?” he asked, taking another step. “And I don’t mean economically,” he clarified, reaching out to brush an invisible speck of dust from the collar of Spock’s uniform. Spock swallowed, and Zach moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. “I promise to shower, every day.”
Spock’s grip on his wrist was firm as he removed Zach’s hand from his shoulder. “That,” he murmured slyly, meeting Zach’s eyes, “will not be necessary.”
Author:
therumjournalsFandom: Star Trek / Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Zachary Quinto/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,306
Summary: Spock encounters a rogue shuttle pilot stranded in space.
Warnings: breathplay, dirty talk, allusions to some grand overarching plot that doesn’t exist. Crack pairing. PWP.
Author’s Note: I lost alllll control of this one somewhere along the way. And yes, I do realize that this might be conceding somewhat in the “who tops” argument. But I wanted to mix it up a little. And did I mention the part about losing all control?
Author’s Note 2: This was not intended to be related to my first Spock/Zach ficlet. But, if it makes you feel good, you can probably imagine it as happening in that same universe, years down the line.
“This is Captain Spock of the USS Fairmount. Please identify yourself.”
“Captain Spock? Nice!” Zach laughed into the vidscreen of his battered shuttlecraft as Spock’s image appeared on the screen. He watched closely, smirking as he saw the ripple of exasperation flicker almost imperceptibly across Spock’s features, and knew it was taking all of his Vulcan restraint not to roll his eyes.
“Captain Quinto.”
Zach leaned forward, chin in hand. “Your own ship and everything, huh. Last time we met you were still Kirk’s buttboy.”
“I was not-“
“I’m sorry, Kirk’s First Mate, or whatever you call it.”
“First Officer-“
“Sure.” Zach shrugged and stretched, long limbs overflowing his shabby pilot’s chair.
“And if I recall correctly Captain Quinto, the last time we met you were commanding a considerably…larger…vessel.”
“Come on now, Spock, you know it’s not the size of a man’s vessel that matters, but how he can…maneuver it.”
“Which at the moment, it appears, is not at all.”
“Thank you, oh newly minted Captain of the USS Obvious.” They stared at each other for a moment before Zach continued. “So? Do you think you can help me get some thrust back in this bad boy, or were you planning to leave me floating out here in the void with only a bottle of lube and the playback of this conversation to entertain myself?” He made sure his lewd gesture would be visible on Spock’s screen.
Spock turned away, moving across the bridge. “Ensign, please engage the tractor beam and pull Captain Quinto’s vessel into Shuttle Bay 4.”
Zach’s lips curled up in a slow smile and his eyes glinted. “That’s it, Spock,” he said, his voice teasing. “Open up for me. Take me into your inner recesses.”
Spock came to a stop next to his security chief, his back still to the screen. “Get Quinto whatever he needs to make his repairs. And make sure he doesn’t leave the Shuttle Bay. It is doubtful that he has showered since being kicked off of Starbase IV.”
*
Zach was on his back beneath the shuttle when he heard the shuttle bay doors slide open. He finished refastening the panel he’d been working on and wiped his hands on a rag as he listened to footsteps cross the floor and come to stop beside him.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, you know,” he said, pushing himself out from under the shuttle. “About me not showering. I’ll have you know I maintain a very strict hygiene routine in space. I smell like roses- Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Spock was leaning over the external control panel by the shuttle door, his fingers flying over the main computer screen. “When I said you could use the USS Fairmount’s resources to repair your shuttle, I was not giving you permission to transfer the entire content’s of the ship’s computer to your data banks,” he said, not looking up from the screen.
Zach rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s not like I was going to do anything with it.”
“Nevertheless, these files contain classified information, as I am sure you know, and-“
“And I can’t be trusted, blahdy blahdy blah,” Zach said, raising himself into a sitting position, but making no move to stand. “By the way,” he continued, resting his hands on his knees, “does Kirk know about your little reconnaissance missions?”
Spock’s fingers slowed to a stop. “I beg your pardon?”
Zach cocked his head. “Your little detours, the sources you’ve been paying to keep tabs on Romulan rebel factions? Those aren’t exactly Starfleet sanctioned, are they?”
Spock finally looked at him, a slight narrowing of the eyes that told Zach that he was on dangerous ground. “Since when do you care about Starfleet’s approval?”
“Since never. It’s just too bad you didn’t think to tell me about your little personal vengeance operation.”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I know people? People open up to me, Spock, they let me in, they tell me things, I don't know why. Maybe it's just something about my face." He flashed Spock his most charming a smile, rolled his eyes when it had no effect. "Or maybe because the reason I was kicked off Starbase IV involved two bottles of Romulan ale and one sniveling Romulan shitbag called Lhaes.”
Spock turned to face him fully, staring down at him, but Zach knew he had the power now. “You talked to Lhaes?”
Zach nodded. “I did. And you haven’t, I assume, given the gaping hole in your file under his name. He told me a few things that might interest you-“
“What did he tell you?” Spock said, leaning down over Zach, his nostrils flaring.
Zach smiled up at him. “Now, Spock, I’m a generous soul, but you can hardly expect me to give up that information without some kind of…exchange.”
His back was against the ground in a second, the wind knocked from his lungs – not that he could have breathed anyway, with Spock’s fingers wrapped tightly around his windpipe.
“The payment,” Spock growled, lips close to his ear, “is your life, Captain.”
Zach squirmed beneath him, twisting his head as he struggled for breath, blinking frantically as darkness encroached on his vision. Spock’s thighs squeezed against his sides, pinning him, but he continued to thrash, his feet sliding on the smooth floor. Spock made a frustrated sound and ground down, pressing their hips together. Zach’s cock throbbed, his erection suddenly trapped between them.
Spock went still. His eyes widened and he loosened his grip on Zach’s throat, just enough. Zach’s lips twisted up in a smirk as he sucked in a ragged breath.
“Caught me.”
Spock shifted, and Zach gasped at the sensation, his eyes going back in his head as Spock rolled his hips, sliding against him, sweet hot friction against Zach’s aching length. He could feel the smirk falling from his lips, replaced by bared teeth, involuntary, revealing the agony of his desire. He didn’t care, he just wanted Spock to keep moving, dragging heavily across his groin, the taunting shape of Spock’s own hardness digging a bruise into his thigh.
Above him, Spock’s expression was changing, too, his eyes darkening, teeth catching against his bottom lip as his eyelids fluttered shut, just briefly. Then open again, staring down at Zach, then inches away, and closing again as his mouth descended, smearing an impatient mockery of a kiss against Zach’s lips.
Deft fingers brushed against his straining zipper, and Zach arched up, encouraging Spock to make quick work of it, the head of his cock rubbing damply against the tight denim of his self-styled “uniform.” Their hands bumped together as Zach reached down to help shove his pants over his hips. Then Spock was fumbling with his own belt, pushing his pants down to his thighs, and Zach’s heart beat a little faster as he realized just exactly what it was that Spock was going to give to him in trade. He pressed up, moaning as flesh brushed against flesh, hot and inviting and close.
Suddenly, Spock leaned down over him until they were chest to chest, Spock’s lips at Zach’s temple, his fingers gripping Zach’s cock in a chokehold. “You will give me the information from Lhaes,” Spock demanded.
“Fuck, Spock, yes, goddammit, don’t-“ He thrust up uselessly, hips pinioned between Spock’s thighs, every hampered movement sending harsh waves of pleasure shuddering up his spine. Spock released his hold on Zach’s shaft and Zach reached down just in time to aim the glistening, swollen head upwards as Spock sank down and took him in.
Tight, slick heat enveloped his cock, and Zach let loose a string of curses as he tried with all of his might to thrust upwards, to bury himself even deeper inside. He could see the effect that his words had on Spock, sending a dark flush to the tips of his ears as he impaled himself on Zach’s rigid length.
“Fuck yeah, ride me, Spock, that’s it,” Zach told him, sliding his hands up to clutch at Spock’s hips.
“Take it, Spock, take every fucking inch of it, let me fill you up.” He jerked up, but it was a futile motion, his only control the stream of words that he spat from his lips, enflaming them both.
“Fuck yourself on me, make me come, oh fuck-“ A cruel twist of Spock’s hips tugged hard at his dick, interrupting his flow. “Does Starfleet know about you, Spock? Bet they didn’t know their hot new Captain’d be so desperate to take it up the ass from the first unshowered brigand to float by. Isn’t that right?” Spock curled his lip and growled. “You think I’m dirty, Spock? You fucking love it. You love how dirty I am, you want my stink all over you, you won’t be able to get that smell out for a month.” Zach thrust up wildly, lifting his head to sneer at Spock, wincing as fingers twisted in his hair. “Is that what you want, you dirty, sexy fucker? You want Kirk to smell me on you.”
Spock slammed down on him, driving him deep, making him gasp. Zach felt Spock’s fingers slide down his cheek and twitch against his jaw, saw the narrowed eyes flick to his mouth.
“Yeah Spock, come on, you know you want to. Do it. Shut me up.”
Then Spock’s hand was over his mouth, fingers pinched against his nose, cutting off his air, and he bucked beneath Spock as he felt the haze of dangerous pleasure descend around him. He moaned into Spock’s palm, bucked and squirmed like he was struggling, like he wanted to breathe, and Spock rewarded him by clenching hard around his cock. Zach’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved, pleasure shooting through him as his body fought for air.
It took effort to keep his eyes open, but he did, locked into Spock’s heated gaze as his limbs began to tingle, sensation radiating out from his screaming lungs and building in his groin. Fuck, he’d probably pass out if Spock didn’t let go soon, but Spock was a machine, fucking himself on Zach’s cock, swiveling his hips as he rose up and dropped down hard. Zach had a wild, conceited thought that he was farther inside Spock than anyone had ever been. He watched in awe as Spock’s face contorted, saw him lose control as he gasped out “Quinto,” and came hard, marking a new insignia across Zach’s chest. Zach’s eyes were flickering shut just as Spock let go, the air suddenly cool across his lips, and he thrust upwards one last time, pouring into Spock as he sucked in welcome lungfuls of air.
The overhead lights swam in his vision. He knew Spock was pulling off, standing up, moving away, but he could still feel the Vulcan’s heat surrounding him, his cock still burned like it was smothered, suffocated in Spock’s tight passage. Slowly, the world came back to him, a smile stealing over his features as he caught his breath, and he propped himself up on shaky elbows, laughing weakly. Sweat trickled down his temple, even as the coolness of the shuttle bay floor began soaking into his damp skin. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed again, disbelief and power and a strange feeling of contentment buzzing in his veins.
“That was….” He shook his head, his eyes trailing Spock as he brushed himself off, and put a hand on the shuttle bulkhead, trying subtly to still his trembling limbs. Not subtle enough, Zach thought with a selfish thrill. “That was something.” Spock shot him a look, disapproval at the lack of clarity in his description, no doubt, as Zach struggled to his feet. He tugged his pants up and zipped them, then walked to the shuttle, ignoring Spock and going straight for the open control panel. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen, and he gave Spock a significant look as he hit the last button with finality.
“There. Finito. You now have the tip from Lhaes in your files, the whereabouts of Nero’s defectors – Colus Mining Station, by the way. And the USS Fairmount’s files have been deleted from the memory banks.” He glanced at the spot on the floor that they’d recently vacated. “Though I can’t say I’ll be deleting that particular scene from my memory banks any time soon.” He gave Spock a salacious smile, but his eyes were tired. “I guess I’ll be on my way then.”
“You’ve completed your repairs?”
“I have, to the extent possible.” He eyed the shuttle skeptically. “She’ll make it to the next cargo port, at least.”
Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “And do you plan to procure a larger vehicle?”
Zach raised an amused eyebrow. “Are you saying I need to?”
Spock paused. “Are we still referring to your spacecraft?”
Zach laughed. “Nah, I don’t think I’ll be procuring anything any time soon. It's this fucking economy, you know how it is.”
“Indeed.” Spock looked like he wanted to say something else. Zach waited, one foot on the step up to the shuttle. “Would you consider a…partnership?”
Zach took his foot down. “A partnership?”
“You have contacts on Colus-“
“I do.”
“And you lack reliable transport-“
Zach cocked his head. “If you say so.”
“It seems that it could be beneficial for you to remain onboard the Fairmount.”
“Beneficial.” Zach took a step toward Spock.
“Economically.”
“Mmm. And would it be…beneficial…for me to spend my nights in your quarters?” he asked, taking another step. “And I don’t mean economically,” he clarified, reaching out to brush an invisible speck of dust from the collar of Spock’s uniform. Spock swallowed, and Zach moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. “I promise to shower, every day.”
Spock’s grip on his wrist was firm as he removed Zach’s hand from his shoulder. “That,” he murmured slyly, meeting Zach’s eyes, “will not be necessary.”
