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*****

Amok Time Lord, Part 3

Keywords: human vulcan time lord spock kirk Doctor captain jack harkness k/s kirk/spock Doctor/jack m/m male gay feline cat Caitian dr who star trek pon farr heat frottage telepathy mind meld oral fellatio kissing prehensile cock tentacles tendrils science fiction sci-fi transformation TARDIS crossover fanfiction slash

*****

Jim Kirk stood outside Spock's quarters for a few moments before buzzing the door. It stayed locked for a full ten seconds, but at last it slid open, and the captain moved inside.

"Spock?" he murmured, looking around. "I'm just checking in, Spock, just want to make sure you're all right--" and then he saw his first officer, sitting cross-legged on a corner of the bed.

He was wearing his usual blue uniform shirt and black slacks, but something was different about him. The pointed ears were larger, their flesh thinner and more cupped, and they joined the head at a higher point than before. His fingers were steepled in meditation, and Jim could see that they had changed too, the tips sharpening into claws.

"Spock," he said again. "What's happened to you?"

And the Vulcan raised his head, turned to face him, the ears rising, his nose flared as if scenting a mate.

Jim could see that the nose had narrowed and reshaped itself, and the once-dark eyes were a vivid yellow-green, glowing in the low light. It was still recognizable as Spock's face, but it was feral and insane.

The Vulcan rose up and got off the bed, approaching him like a stalking panther. Kirk backed against the nearest wall. "Spock? What-- happened? You've... you've changed. This, this mating cycle you told me about-- is that a normal part of it?"

"I don't know," Spock answered, and it was definitely his voice, but with a tone of growl in it. "I don't know, because I am the last of my kind--" He paused, shook his head, seeming confused. "The-- the first, I mean. The first hybrid between humans and Vulcans. Nothing is normal for me."

Jim Kirk's eyes widened as Spock came closer. He was continuing to change as Jim watched, the jet-black hair spreading until it covered his face and neck, the mouth opening and teeth transforming before his eyes.

"Spock, we're almost there," Jim said, pressing his back against the wall. "Just a few days' travel. We're taking you home. You can relax now. You'll get what you need, soon."

Spock turned back for a second, growling and pulling at the waistband of his own pants, managing to lower them enough to free the tail that was growing from the base of his spine. It was slender, graceful, covered in silky black fur.

Jim's eyes couldn't help wandering to the rest of the cat-Vulcan's lower body-- the lean hips, the bare feet that were shape-shifting until the heels were thin and almost halfway up the calf. Claws formed on the toes that now supported his weight, and the black fur was spreading to them too, and to his hands. It had covered his face all over by now, longer on the head and cheeks, short and fine on the brow and the bridge of the nose.

And in the center of Jim's vision, straining inside the uniform pant leg, was an erection that took the captain's breath away. The fabric imprisoned it so tightly that he could see its texture-- not just the Vulcan double ridge he'd heard rumors of, but feline bumps all over. It was swollen so thick and full that it looked excruciatingly painful, a moist spot already at the tip of it.

Jim felt his face flush with arousal, his own member beginning to swell. He was probably one of the most sexual beings in the galaxy, experienced with partners both male and female, as well as some other sexes found only in space. He'd had fantasies about half the crewmembers on his ship, including Spock-- with the Vulcan's looks, how couldn't he? And the friendship between them was already so deep, their concern for each other so nearly obsessive, that Jim had often thought the act of sex was all it would take to make them lovers in every sense...

But fantasizing was different from acting on fantasies. And he'd certainly never imagined that his emotionally controlled first officer would have any interest in screwing him. That sure was what it looked like right now, though, as Spock came close enough for Jim to feel the fevered heat of his body.

"What I need is you," he said, in the Vulcan's unmistakable deep and throaty voice, but with animal undertones-- and he pressed that lean body against every centimeter of Jim's, all at once.

Jim let out a hard, unsteady breath at the sudden contact. His pelvis rocked forward involuntarily, and his hands found Spock's hips and held them, not sure whether to push him away or draw him closer.

"You said you had to go home to take a smate," he reminded Spock, trying not to breathe too fast. "That must mean there's someone on Vulcan, waiting for you. Isn't there?"

Spock's face was up against Kirk's, now, his breath hot. "I don't want her," he growled.

And his clawed hands were reaching behind Jim and grabbing his ass, pulling them together so tightly that the contact of their erections was an explosion of pleasure.

Jim's control gave out, and he made an animalistic noise of his own, giving up and just letting his body do what it wanted. He let himself thrust against Spock, let their painfully swollen members slide together through the clothes and ooze pre-cum into their undershorts, let his hands grip the cat-Vulcan's ass and rub the base of the tail as he pulled him in to grind harder.

Spock made a sound that embodied the essence of sex, a moan that was half the familiar smooth-rough Vulcan voice and half the cry of a cat in heat. His motions got faster, and his face pinned Jim's head against the wall, opening his feline muzzle against the human's lips. The urgency and pressure of the kiss made Jim dizzy-- it scraped him with sharp teeth and rasp-like tongue, but it filled him with nothing but the urge to respond, to kiss back and push his tongue over the sharpness and roughness again and again, to open himself to pain that was as exquisite as the pleasure.

At Jim's response, Spock inhaled and moaned at once, and his shaft leapt inside his clothes. "I want," he growled, "I need-- now--"

Jim needed no more encouragement. He moved his hands up and down the Vulcan-cat's back a few times, and began to lower himself to his knees, stroking Spock sensually as he moved, caressing his shoulder blades and the small of his back, and finally his buttocks and tail again. As he moved lower, he mouthed Spock's flesh through his shirt, finding a nipple, the edge of a rib, the base of his navel, and leaving wet marks on the blue fabric as he kissed them.

The cat-Vulcan's breathing went crazy, inhalations and exhalations trying to happen out of order, his tail thrashing and his legs suddenly seeming so weak he was about to fall over. Jim gripped Spock's behind as tightly as he could, to support him, and helped him turn until he was the one with his back against the wall.

"Relax," he murmured against the bulge in his first officer's pants.

Spock took some unsteady breaths and rested his hands against the wall, claws already digging into the hard polymer. "Please-- now--" He sounded as if he was in agony.

Jim Kirk's hands were shaking, but he managed to unfasten the pants and push them down just far enough for Spock's maddened hardness to break free. The captain's knees were on the floor now, his face up against the Vulcan's groin, and just the air-motion of his breath was making the hard cock jump and leak drops of pre-cum.

It was magnificent, as long as Jim's own, and almost twice as thick-- flushed copper-green with Spock's alien blood. It glistened with the semen drops it had already shed, and Jim could see the Vulcan's pulse in the little swollen cat bumps all over the shaft, and the two elegant ridges that crowned the tip. There was a furred sheath around the base, like an animal's, probably part of the cat-transformation, and the balls were covered in fur as well. Jim reached up and cupped them in his hand, pressing his lips against the blue-green cock head.

Spock jerked his head back against the wall, roaring and groaning and shoving his pelvis against Kirk's face so hard that the captain's lips were nearly bruised against the hardness of the shaft. The human gave a few rough breaths and put both hands on Spock's hips, moving them in stroking motions as he lowered his mouth to the head of the alien erection again.

He opened his lips over its crown, taking a few centimeters fully into his mouth, sliding his tongue up and down against the underside.

"Ahh! AAaa-AHH!" Spock's chest heaved inside his uniform, and his feet moved and clawed against the floor, shifting his legs wider apart as he bucked into Jim's oral caress. "Y-yes, more-- more--"

Jim opened his mouth wider, taking in more, tightening his lips around the fevered cock and moving the tip of his tongue across its surface. It was an unbelievably erotic feeling, sending shocks of pleasure into Jim's own hard-on, making it tingle and spurt a tiny bit of pre-cum with no more stimulation than his hips' slight motion inside his pants.

The taste was musky and coppery, the feel was the perfect mix of soft skin over hardness, stroking the inside of his mouth with its complex texture. He explored what each touch did to the cat-Vulcan-- the hard thrust and series of too-fast panting breaths, when he touched his tongue to one of the feline nubs; the throat-deep moan and the arched back, when he licked in between the Vulcan ridges.

Then the pon farr went past some threshold of madness, and there was no more chance to be meticulous with his touches-- Spock was moving too fast, too uncontrollably, roaring and thrashing his tail and fucking Jim's mouth with all the frenzy of the blood fever. It was all Jim could do just to keep his mouth wide open and his teeth off Spock's member, to let Spock take what he so desperately needed.

And god, it was such a turn-on, all the same-- Spock, the unattainable, unapproachable, unexpressive Vulcan, gone sexually insane, turned into a rutting beast. Jim throbbed against the fly of his pants, but his hands kept up their sensual massage of Spock's hips and ass, letting the pain of his trapped erection be a delicious feeling in itself.

Then, all at once, Spock let loose a sound like a snarl and a scream, and his hands gave one last scrape at the clawed-up wall and then moved down to seize Jim's face.

The paw-pads pressed hard on his cheekbones; the fingers settled themselves onto the pressure points of a mind-meld, with a spot of pain on each one where the claw dug in. He was holding Jim's face tightly against the jerking and thrusting of his hips, but he was also penetrating his mind, pouring into his head until their thoughts and emotions and sensations were one boiling pool of pleasure.

Jim moaned around the shaft. He was Kirk and Spock at the same time; his own cock strained in his pants, but, superimposed on that feeling, he was a bumped and ridged Vulcan-cat in heat, thrusting into warm wetness. He was a human, aroused beyond reason by his sexy first officer, but he was also a Vulcan in the throes of pon farr, all thought reduced to the searing agony of his need and the breathtaking relief of the touches that eased it.

He was both of them, both sides of the need and the pleasure. Both cocks jerked and spilled violently at the same time, both sets of lungs struggled to breathe through roar-growls of ecstasy, as both minds shattered in the supernova of their release.

They came back to reality, Spock trembling against the wall, Jim shaking on his knees and wiping the corner of his mouth. They just barely managed to lower themselves into an embrace on the floor. Spock's leg ended up between Kirk's thighs, where it triggered aftershocks as it made him rub against the slippery stain in his pants.

"Aaahh," Jim gasped. "Ah, ahh--" Slowly, the aftershocks faded and his moans quieted to short hard breaths. "Ah. W-Wow."

He looked at Spock, still panting as he lay on his side. The Vulcan's fur shone with sweat, his tail twitched. His belly was slick with semen that had gotten past Jim's efforts to swallow... but his cock was, impossibly, still as hard as when they had begun.

"Are you okay?" Jim rubbed Spock's furred chest through the uniform shirt. "Spock? Did that... help at all? You're still--"

Spock turned his head to the side and breathed out raggedly. "You can't-- satisfy it," he said. "I still-- have to go home. The mate my family ch-chose for me... there is a tele-- telepathic link. It can't break, it can't stop, not until I-- meet her face to face." His eyes clenched shut.

"And then what?" Jim was shocked to realize that jealousy was tinging his concern. "Will you have to fuck her? Will you have to get married to her? Isn't there any way either of you can say no?"

"I-- I don't know," Spock said. "I t-told you before-- nothing is normal for me. I d-don't know what will happen. I-- I want you. I don't want anyone else. But I don't know-- what I can do to stop it." He finally managed to open his eyes, the gold-green pools of light giving Kirk a concerned look. "Jim? Are y-you all right?"

Captain Kirk looked down at his own body. His feet and calves did feel strange-- not just cramped from the position he was in, but--

He moved his legs. The uniform boots, usually so hard to pull off, slipped from his feet immediately.

His heart kicked into a faster pace. The bones between his toes and heels had stretched; his heels had climbed up several centimeters; his toenails were growing into claws that were ripping through his socks.

He grabbed his right leg in both hands, but was distracted by the hands themselves, the calluses of his fingers and thumbs swelling into pads, the nails narrowing and lengthening. Orange tabby fur was sprouting all over, making his skin itch inside his clothes. His mouth didn't even seem to open the same way. He stuck out his tongue, and felt it scrape his upper lip like sandpaper; felt his teeth prick it like needles.

"Omigod." He pulled his pants down just in time for his backbone to extend past his ass until it became a tail, thrashing back and forth with a mind of its own. He turned himself onto his back and opened his thighs, letting his new tail stretch out on the floor between his legs. In front, meanwhile, his--

It must be something about this transformation. Or was it the aftereffects of the mind-meld? Even though he'd had a nuclear explosion of an orgasm just a few minutes ago, his cock was swelling again, his balls were tightening, and his whole groin was hypersensitized to the changes that were taking place there. The skin at the base of his shaft folded into a sheath, and white fur began to spread across that and his ball sac, tickling the tender flesh. His erection swelled thick in the middle and narrowed at the tip, and extra-sensitive bumps started forming all over it, rising to the skin like bubbles.

Spock was watching him with a look in his eyes like starvation. As the Vulcan-cat saw his flesh spring to hardness, saw it become feline, his tongue ran over his teeth and lips, and the black panther body rose to move closer to him, to position itself above him, as he rested on his back on the floor.

"Spock," Jim whispered. "Did you do this to me?"

The cat-Vulcan nuzzled the side of his face. "I d-don't know."

"If we keep fucking, will we change back?" Jim moaned as Spock's muzzle brushed his ear.

Spock's eyes narrowed. "I don't know."

"Will more sex help at all? Are you going to get any relief from this, to last you until you get home?" Jim couldn't help raising his hips up to meet Spock's, trying to collide their cocks together.

"I don't know." Spock licked his neck, then bit it, and the mix of pain and pleasure made his balls tighten and his cock jump.

"But-- if we're going to be waiting a few days anyway--" Jim Kirk grabbed Spock's waist in his hands, letting his claws rip the hem of the uniform shirt. "Then we might as well enjoy it..."

Spock lowered his body onto Kirk's, their erections lying against each other from base to tip, a sudden jolt of pressure and sensation. Spock growled again, but this time it was more like a purr.

"Yes."

*****

The last of the Time Lords was on fire.

His fur was tangled and sweaty and sticky. His back hurt from arching. His hips ached from thrusting. His balls burned with the need for release. Even his tail was exhausted from thrashing back and forth.

For the fifth time, his prehensile shafts had come back to pulsing, twisting life, and once again Captain Jack Harkness knelt between his wide-open thighs, watching the tendrils with fascination, preparing to give himself to them.

The Time Lord's mind was too clouded with lust for any clear thought, but somewhere in with all the arousal was a warm burn of gratitude. Jack had been infinitely kind to him throughout this ordeal, responding to every urge, touching him exactly where he needed, gently or roughly depending on the Doctor's cravings. And when memories of all those moments flashed up in the fevered mind, his sexual response was tempered with a thankfulness that felt almost like love.

And then his head tossed back and his hips jolted upwards, because Jack was leaning down further, lowering himself to lie almost fully prone on the floor... pressing his mouth to one of the shafts that undulated between the spread legs.

"Aa-aa-aahh!" The Doctor's claws scraped the floor. The heat and moisture of the half-opened lips drove him wild, he needed more, needed--

The lips opened wider, still holding back just enough to keep the teeth away, and now the rough cat tongue was caressing him, wet and warm, dragging against the tingling sensitivity of the feline bumps on his tendrils. "OHH! Y-yes, YES, aahhh..."

Jack kept licking, up and down the tendril, then nuzzling the crevice between the bases of the prehensile shafts before beginning to lick down another one. The Doctor was beyond control, his pelvis thrusting frenetically, moans breaking free from his throat every second, his lungs and throat too full of frenzied breath to form another real word, even "please" or "more."

The stroking of the tongue continued, leaving the bumps more swollen and the flesh moving more wildly in its wake. Finally, after eons of wonderful torture, every centimeter of all four shafts was glistening with moisture from Jack's tongue. And the Doctor couldn't breathe, could barely keep both his hearts beating, needed more, needed it with every trace of energy in his body and mind...

And then it was there-- Jack's body in his arms, chest against chest, legs entwined with legs, mouth on mouth, and the glorious swelling of Jack's cock pressing into his groin, welcoming the frantic embrace of need.

The tendrils wrapped and stroked and went insane with motion, and in the bucking madness the Time Lord's hands left the claw-marked floor to grip Jack's face, open their minds together once more, let the climax rip through them all at once and tear them to pieces.

*****

The mind-meld ended bit by bit, leaving Jack still gasping on top of the Doctor's body. That one had felt the most intense of all, as if it might have finally satisfied the need. God, that amazing clove-musk taste-- he licked his lips; it was still there on his tongue.

He rolled onto his side, looking over at the Doctor, who seemed relaxed for the first time in hours-- his eyes were closed but not clenched, his feline ears were at rest instead of twitching. Then he gave a soft breath, seeming to wake up.

There was that moment of confusion again, as the madness faded, as the Doctor blinked his eyes at reality. "Did you and I just--"

And then, once more, the moment of realization, looking down at the entangled genitals, the sweat-and-semen-soaked fur. "Oh, bugger."

"Sure, if you like-- but you'll have to give me some time to recover." Jack leaned back and grinned, running a hand through the fur on the side of his own face.

The Doctor got to his feet, seizing up the last remnants of his clothes to cover himself. "I'm-- I'm fine. I'm finished. I don't need anything more." Jack thought he could see him blushing furiously, even through the fur. "And you're shedding."

"What?"

"You're shedding cat hair, all over my TARDIS." The Doctor rubbed his forehead, and a shower of fine gray fur sprinkled past his eyes. "Oh, bloody hell, so am I."

Jack looked at the backs of his hands. The claws were shortening and broadening, beginning to look like fingernails again. When he rubbed his hands together, the fur fell out with no resistance, leaving patches of human skin.

"We're changing back, aren't we?" Jack murmured. He felt his ears. They were thickening, moving back downwards, the points receding.

"Apparently so." The Doctor licked his teeth, seeming relieved that they were no longer so sharp, and that his tongue was growing thicker and smoother. "Whatever your Caitian friend injected you with, to change your appearance-- it seems it couldn't hold up, to such a-- prolonged and intense rush of-- hormones." Jack was certain he could see the blush now.

"Well." Jack looked down at his legs, watching the high-up heels move downward and become thick enough to form the bottoms of human feet. The Doctor's demeanor was still confusing him, but they were both alive, both back to their old selves, and that was all that mattered.

"Oh, they will perfect the formula someday," the Time Lord went on. "Those scientists M'Rai was influencing-- their work does make it into the future. I've seen it." His attention suddenly shifted back to his naked and sticky body, and embarrassment replaced his momentary history-lecture mode. Fur fell off his limbs as he tried to move them into the optimum position for covering his nudity. "Anyway--" He paused as if struggling with the words. "Thanks."

Jack tilted his head. "Just 'thanks'?" He wasn't sure if he had been expecting declarations of love, but this seemed anticlimactic.

"Yes, thanks. That's what I'm supposed to say, isn't it? I'm still not sure exactly what just happened, but it looks as if you saved my life, so-- thanks."

Clutching the fragments of clothing around him, he started walking toward the stairs, his gait changing from tiptoe to plantigrade as he moved. "And now I'm going to go get cleaned up and dressed, and we're going to go find that rift in space M'Rai tore to send us here, before he finds us. Then we're going to go back to our own universe, and seal the rift permanently behind us, if at all possible. And then I'll drop you off wherever you like."

The Doctor vanished into the upper regions of the TARDIS, and Jack sat alone, watching fur fall off his arms and chest.

He wished that, at the very least, he could say "thanks" too, for the most incredible and wonderful sexual experience he'd ever had. But it would sound so wrong, thanking the Doctor for something he'd had no control over; rubbing his face in the fact that Jack had enjoyed it.

The Doctor had clearly enjoyed it too, more than Jack had ever seen anyone enjoy anything-- but now that the madness had worn off, he was embarrassed about it, wanting to pretend it hadn't happened. And... that was his prerogative. Jack couldn't make him want something he didn't.

He sat still, feeling his tail shrink back into his spine, feeling the bumps recede on his shaft. He would never be able to forget this. For himself, Jack Harkness couldn't pretend it hadn't happened, even if he wanted to. It would be with him for the rest of his long, long life.

*****

The Doctor started a very hot shower, and stood under it, letting the water sluice his cat fur off and down the drain. His hearts beat hard and fast every time a memory surfaced from those hours of insanity.

He was utterly satisfied, the madness was cured, he didn't need any more-- but that didn't stop the memories from touching him somewhere deep and tender, awakening the feelings he had tried so hard to shield himself from.

He was a Time Lord. He couldn't love a human-- they grew old and died and broke his hearts. Except Jack. Jack was the only human who could be a true partner for him, live out a life as long as his.

But--

The Doctor sighed, scrubbing at his shoulders, feeling the fur wash off like soap lather. It was too late. There was the prophecy of the four knocks, coming up too fast in his future.

Not very long from now, he would be gone forever, or else regenerated, changed into someone who might or might not have any feelings for the captain. To show any sign of love right now would be cruel, giving Jack a taste of something he might soon lose forever.

So he would have to drop Jack off on some nice planet, maybe try to fix him up with someone who could love him in a human way-- give him some years of normal happiness. Maybe someday, if the Doctor's future regeneration hadn't lost all traces of what he was feeling right now, they would meet again in happier circumstances.

But for now, it would have to be nothing more than "thanks" and "goodbye." His eyes stung, but if there were tears, they were lost in the spray of water.

*****

"Come on, Spock, let's go mind the store."

Captain Kirk and his first officer left sickbay, entering the corridor with a frisson of self-consciousness, a sudden awareness of being alone together.

It was finally all over, the trip to Vulcan, the duel, McCoy's clever intervention. But was it truly finished?

Kirk looked at Spock with concern. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Is the-- madness really gone?"

"Of course." The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "I said so, did I not?"

"I know." Kirk looked down. "It's just-- it doesn't seem to make sense. You went mad enough to fight for your mate. Then, when you won, you suddenly had no interest in-- mating with her. I don't see how that works, biologically. Is it just some... some glitch, because you're half human?"

"Perhaps." Spock looked thoughtful. "It feels... What it feels like..." The word sounded strange from the Vulcan lips. "I know this is impossible. But it feels as if someone else mind-melded with me, and took away part of the blood fever-- experienced part of it for me, so that I would not have to suffer it all."

He lowered his eyebrows in thought. "There is a strange memory-- probably a hallucination I experienced in my quarters, while I was going more and more insane--"

Jim Kirk looked at him, the human eyes intense. "Do you mean-- what happened between you and me? Spock, you didn't hallucinate that. That was real." The captain took Spock's hand, their fingers entwining.

Spock blushed, green blood climbing his face like verdigris. "I was thinking of a different memory, one that probably was a hallucination," he said. "But I--" His voice cracked. "I am-- glad that part was real."

Kirk squeezed his hand. "That was probably me, taking away part of your madness. We mind-melded, didn't we? And I... I certainly felt as if I was in pon farr too, for a while there."

Spock inclined his head. "Yes... that may have been it."

The two of them walked side by side, in silence, for a few moments. "And-- the part when our bodies-- transformed, for a while-- was that real too?" Spock asked.

Kirk chuckled. "Yes, strangely enough, it was. And I still have no idea why. But I've seen so many strange things in this universe-- sometimes I just have to pick and choose which ones to ask questions about."

He let go of Spock's hand, trailing his fingers up the Vulcan's arm, his neck, finally touching his ear. "And besides," Kirk added, reveling in the Vulcan's gasp and blush at the caress, "--you were pretty damn sexy as a cat."

*****

END

*****