Subject: 

          NEW: Boys Will Do...er, Be Boys, TOS/RL, K/GW/S, rated R,

          1/1

    Date: 

          Sat, 27 Dec 1997 09:27:25 -0500 (EST)

   From: 

          Laura Jacquez Valentine 





I promised, didn't I? (I added a few lines after reading Dire

Wolf...well, you know...)  Spock and Kirk and Trek belong to

Paramount, and Greywolf belongs to himself.  Also, *I* like the

fuckbunnies, but *he* didn't, but rest assured that fuckbunnies will

turn up in future TrekSmut.



Killa also belongs to herself, and I acknowledge debt to Turning

Point, etc. for Nouvelle Orleans.



---



"You aren't serious, Spock."



"I am quite serious."



Jim turned and looking at the sleeping figure next to them.  "He's

wonderful, you know, and we've had so much fun, but, Spock--"



"Do you deny that he deserves it?"



"No!  No, just--well, he's not human."



"Neither am I.  Jim, I will do this alone if I must.  I--and I belive

he--would rather we did this together."



Jim stood silent for a moment.  "He is cute, isn't he?"  He flipped

out his communicator.  The blankets moved as the bed's occupant

stirred in his sleep, the communicator's beep rousing him.  He did not

have time to come fully awake, however--"Scotty, three to beam,

directly to Mr. Spock's quarters."



The transporter beam has a distinct and not entirely pleasant feel to

it, one of the more compelling reasons that McCoy objects to it. 

That, combined with the sudden absence of bedcovers, completed the

quite rude awakening.



"Bloody HELL!"



"Greywolf."  Spock's calm voice drew the wolflike one's attention. 



"Good *lord*, why didn't you SAY so?"  Greywolf appeared honestly

peeved. "Ya didn't hafta shag--er, shanghai me. Ya could've ASKED."



"This was to be...a surprise."  Spock moved towards his kidnap victim

as he spoke, long lean fluid movements, like a cat.



"What sorta surprise?"  Jim noticed that Greywolf had relaxed and

fixed his attention on the Vulcan, so he moved.



Kirk was very fast for a human.  He slid between Spock and Greywolf

with ease and pressed our lupine friend against the wall.  "This

sort," the Captain whispered, and kissed him.  After a moment, he drew

back.  "God. You taste better than Spock."



"Fucked--Flattered, I'm sure."



"Mm."  Kirk leaned in to Greywolf again, but found Spock's hand in the

way.



"There is a far more logical way to handle three."



Jim and Greywolf frowned at him for a second, then both spoke at the

same time.



"Sandwich?"



"Triangle?"



Spock managed to be dignified as his hand found an interesting piece

of Greywolf's anatomy.  "Both, of course, one right after the other,

in such a way as to maximize pleasure."  He moved closer.  "I know

Jim's preferences, and my own, but where would you like to be?"  



Greywolf growled softly at the Vulcan.  "The middle?" Spock asked. 

The huge shit-eating grin for which the wolfish author was known was

taken as an affirmative, and Spock smiled softly and dropped his

shields, just a little, to tweak a nerve.



To his great surprise, the wolf tweaked back.  "You've been livin' in

my head--you think I didn't learn anything?"  



Spock frowned.  "That's not *your* Spock.  That's Laura's Spock."



"Sometimes she lends him to me--ah."



Jim had taken the opportunity of Spock and Greywolf's preoccupation to

undress.  Now he pointed this fact out--"Gentlemen, aren't you

rather...overdressed? Or Spock, anyway--you, my fine furry fuck--er,

friend--don't appear to have this problem."



"I'll show you friend, my friend," said Greywolf.  He slipped away

from the Vulcan (who prudently removed his clothing with all speed),

and pounced on Jim.  Smooth skin met fur and lips met belly...and

drifted lower until the Captain cried out sharply.



Spock watched for a few minutes, then eased their bodies apart at one

end and inserted himself into the mix.  Triangle first, sandwich

later. Logical.  And after that, he and Jim could inform their

fuckmate--er, fine furry friend--of their plans for Killa.  Spock

smiled to himself, then pulled away slightly.



"He tastes better than you, too, Jim."



Jim's response was muffled, but it didn't matter.  Greywolf was doing

something to Spock with his teeth (which Spock was later unable to

describe beyond "I shall have to take him to New Orleans alone

sometime."), and all three were having quite illegal amounts of fun.



---