Contact High (A Star Trek XI Fic) - Part 2
Title: Contact High
(Part 2/2), Part 1 is here.
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Word Count: 14,400
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use
Description: Spock finds Jim Kirk in a cloud of smoke, and Jim discovers the entertainment value of a stoned Vulcan.
A/N: Inspired by the song Day N Nite by Kid Cudi: Listen
Many thanks to beta gwenaterra
Jim Kirk appeared in the doorway of the medical office, looking far too pleased with himself and with life in general.
“So?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you have a good time last night?”
“Yeah, it was great.”
“So, what do you think? Wanna do it again sometime?”
"Yeah, I don't think I'm ever going to be doing that again. Ever."
"Why not? I thought we had fun!"
"Oh, it was loads of fun. Until you and Spock started mouth-fucking and left me stoned and rolling around on the floor to entertain myself. I don't really feel the need to be the third wheel."
"Third wheel? Bones, it's not like that!"
"Yeah, it is. And don't even start about that 'sensations' crap."
"But Bones, it is about the sensations..."
"Uh huh. Listen, I understand the appeal of a tongue down the throat as much as the next man, but
that was just ridiculous. Jesus, Jim, have you two been doing THAT every night for the past two weeks, too?”
“Nooo,” Jim said slowly. “Not every night.”
And they hadn’t. There was too much to explore, after all. After the ingenious introduction of the back massage, they’d moved on to feet, and hands, and chests, and then there were things like ice and feathers to try out, and one time Spock had almost gone into convulsions when Jim dripped a stripe of hot wax along the inside of his forearm. And sure, maybe they’d sought out each others’ mouths on more than one occasion, but it definitely didn’t happen every night.
“My God, Jim , please tell me you guys haven’t…done it?”
“Is that the medical term, doc?” Jim asked drily, but inside he was kind of freaking out, because to be honest, sex hadn’t really come into it at all. Not that anyone would believe him if he’d told them, but for the most part they’d been too content with their lazy explorations to think about sex, or lust. Jim figured that Spock was so overwhelmed with the feeling of Jim’s touch on his hand or ear that he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if Jim touched him in a more…sensitive area. The strange thing was, Jim felt the exact same way.
“For your information, no, we haven’t ‘done it’, and before you ask, no, he hasn’t touched my ‘thing’ either. Medical term.”
Actually, now that he thought about it, for someone who’d spent most of his adult life focused on one particular part of his anatomy, it was rather astonishing how little attention he’d paid to it over the past couple weeks. Which wasn’t to say that he hadn’t jacked off once or twice after Spock left his quarters, but touching himself was different than being touched, and anyway, it wasn’t like he could fall asleep if his cock was hard as hell. At least, that’s what he’d told himself as he thrust desperately into his hand, stroking hard and fast until he came to the memory of fingers and lips on his skin.
***
When Spock showed up at his quarters that night, he appeared uneasy, looking around as he stepped into the room. “Should I expect the doctor to be joining us again tonight, Jim?”
“No, Spock, I think we scared Bones off for good.”
Spock’s expression changed slightly as he took a seat and Jim was shocked to recognize that Spock looked rather… smug.
“Oh my God, you devious bastard,” Jim exclaimed, poking Spock in the shoulder. “You did that on purpose! You made out with me just to freak Bones out!”
Spock looked down at Jim’s finger with a raised eyebrow. “Well…not just to freak Bones out,” he intoned, and the corner of his mouth twitched up again.
Jim slumped back, shaking his head, still in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”
“Jim?”
“What?”
“Was it your intention to smoke tonight?”
“Oh shit, yeah, I almost forgot. Huh. Weird.” He opened the cabinet and got the pipe ready, lit up, and sucked in deeply. Spock’s eyes flicked involuntarily to Jim’s mouth and remained there as Jim opened his eyes. Jim pulled the pipe away and formed an “O” with his mouth, blowing out a series of perfectly formed smoke rings. Spock’s eyes widened in surprise and he forgot to even breathe in the smoke. Jim laughed and took another puff, this time exhaling purposefully in Spock’s direction. He lifted the pipe to his mouth again and had started to inhale when he felt soft lips brush against the skin under his ear. He breathed in sharply at the sensation, choked, and coughed violently for a minute. When he had recovered, he leaned back and, not looking at Spock, said “Jesus, Spock, you know you could kill a man with moves like that.”
Spock leaned toward him again, reaching forward to pull the pipe out of his hand and set it on the floor as he placed his lips back against Jim’s neck. Jim felt warm breath against his ear as Spock whispered, “I thought you might want to know how it feels.” Before Jim could respond, Spock was running his tongue along the shell of Jim’s ear and Jim was writhing in pleasure as the touch sent sparks through his body. He said nothing, tried to remember to keep breathing as Spock took the edge of Jim’s ear lightly between his teeth, nipping, kissing, then pulling Jim’s earlobe in between velvet lips.
Jim had his eyes closed and was so focused on what Spock was doing to his ear that he had barely even noticed that he was hard and that he’d moved his hand to press against his groin, trying to keep his erection at bay. The pressure of his hand on his cock and the friction against the fabric of his pants distracted him momentarily from Spock’s ministrations and he struggled to decide which to focus on. Then Spock’s lips tugged insistently on his earlobe and his hips bucked involuntarily, pushing his straining cock against his hand again. Suddenly, Jim was overcome with the feeling that he could not possibly wait another second to touch himself, and he groped at the fly of his pants as Spock’s lips traced a path down his neck. He shoved his pants and boxers down, wrapping a hand around himself as he tilted his head back to give Spock better access.
Spock felt Jim’s body jerk as he stroked himself and pulled back, his eyes widening with shock as he saw what Jim was doing. “I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim panted as he pushed into his fist, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t…it just felt so good…sorry…” He felt Spock’s eyes on him but he couldn’t stop, not now, not when it felt like fire where Spock’s lips had touched him and like lava pooling in his groin. Without missing a stroke, he gestured with his head toward the bulge in Spock’s pants.
“You can do it, too, Spock, come on. Pot makes it feel so fucking amazing.” He had a rhythm going now, and his breath hitching, interspersed by grunts of pleasure. The sounds alone had Spock reaching for his zipper, any apprehension he might have felt replaced by blinding need. Jim’s head was tipped back, his eyes closed, as Spock felt the cool air hit his throbbing cock, that feeling alone nearly taking his breath away. He reached tentatively to touch himself but another glance at Jim’s fist flying over his dick in fast strokes made Spock forget any ideas he’d had about easing into it and he gripped himself hard and rough. Jim heard Spock moving beside him and opened his eyes, glancing quickly down at Spock’s hand, and it was too much and then he was coming, hitching his t-shirt up to let the thick stream splash across his stomach. As he caught his breath, he looked over to see Spock arching his back, panting, beads of sweat on his brow. Jim reached over to lift the hem of Spock’s shirt, and at the feel of Jim’s fingers against his stomach, Spock moaned and climaxed with a shudder that shook his whole body. They slumped back against the pillows, breathing hard, their shoulders just touching. Spock fought to harness his emotions and immediately regretted it, as shame flooded through him. Without looking at Jim, he pushed his shirt down, zipped up his pants, and stood to leave. Behind him, he heard Jim’s voice, low and rough and Spock could tell that he was smiling as he said, “Felt awesome, didn’t it?” Spock nodded once, without looking back, and left.
***
When the door slid open the next night, Jim was standing right there. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled nervously. “Thought you might not show tonight,” he said lightly.
Spock had an answer prepared. “If you would prefer that I leave-“
“No, no, Spock, get your ass in here,” Jim replied, grinning and grabbing Spock by the arm to pull him into the room. Jim wasted no time lighting up and for a few minutes it seemed like they might revert back to their previous pattern of comfortable silence interspersed with funny stories. But then Jim took a long hit off the pipe, sucking deep, his cheeks hollowing with the effort and Spock’s breath hitched as he stared at Jim’s mouth. Jim heard Spock’s breath catch and glanced at him through lowered eyelashes, and then Spock was reaching over, pulling the pipe out of his fingers and pressing their mouths together and fumbling at the zipper of his own pants. Jim pushed Spock’s hand aside and undid the zipper himself, breaking the kiss and leaning down to run his tongue across the hot skin of Spock’s pelvis. He knew what Spock wanted and he didn’t make him wait, wrapping his lips around the head of Spock’s rigid cock and sucking, slowly taking him deep into his mouth. He felt a sharp pain as Spock gripped his hair tightly, but he only sucked harder in response. He could feel Spock’s body tensing, and he pulled away, sitting up to kiss Spock deeply and sloppily, Spock’s hand still fisted in his hair.
Then he was straddling Spock, his hands in Spock’s hair and on his neck, and he whispered “God, Spock, I want to make you come, I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard you won’t even know your own name.” Spock responded by gripping Jim’s shoulder and maneuvering his head back down into his lap, where Jim was more than happy to stay. Jim worked him over with long, wide swipes of his tongue, licking up the length of his cock and swirling around the tip, slurping and moaning obscenely as he took Spock back into his mouth. Spock was trying hard not to thrust into Jim’s mouth, but it didn’t matter, because Jim was sliding his lips up and down Spock’s shaft, gripping the base with one hand and twisting slightly, and then he was swallowing, and Spock was coming in his mouth, gasping as he watched Jim drink him in.
Jim lay on the floor looking up at Spock as he prepared to return to his quarters.
“Spock,” he said, still panting slightly.
“Yes, Jim?” Spock stood over him, an eyebrow raised.
“I think we’ve just opened the door to a whole new realm of sensations to explore. Ya know…in the name of scientific research and all that.”
Spock looked down at him. “I would be interested in attempting to repeat the results of this evening’s experiment.”
“You have a dirty mind, Spock,” Jim called to him as he stepped out the door. “I wholeheartedly approve.”
* * * * *
Jim had never let his nightly indulgences affect him on the job and he wasn’t about to start. That didn’t necessarily mean he was looking forward to telling Spock that he had to pull a double shift and cancel their evening activities. Apparently his apprehension had been well-founded, as he was now observing Spock react with subtle panic to the idea of spending a night without - well, either him or the pot, Jim wasn’t quite sure which.
“I could inquire as to whether any other officers would be willing to oversee Ensign Ling’s command training.”
“What are you saying, Spock, you think someone else would do a better job than me?”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t you think Ensign Ling should have the best training available? For the good of the ship?”
“I do.”
“Which is why I have to be on the Bridge tonight, Spock. I know you know this, and I think you’re just being difficult.”
He had to imagine Spock’s pout.
“Would it not be more logical to oversee her training next week, when we are orbiting Philius?”
“No, Spock, it would not be more logical, unless you think the logical time to implement command training is in the midst of potentially hostile trade negotiations. You’re really grasping at straws here, Spock, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were, I don’t know, addicted.”
Now he imagined Spock scowling.
“I mean, I’m flattered Spock. I had no idea you were so desperate to spend time with me.”
Something flashed across Spock’s eyes, but he quickly reined it in and responded, in a clipped tone, “I believe I shall survive the experience.”
“Good. I am sorry Spock,” he said, clapping Spock on the shoulder. And he was. “But, you know, we have been doing this for, like, three weeks straight. Maybe we could both use a little break?”
Jim had no idea what expression to imagine as Spock simply replied “Indeed.”
***
Ensign Ling’s training was going well. They’d run a few simulations and in the slow, casual atmosphere of the night shift, Ling’s eager questions had led the Bridge crew into a lively discussion of the practicality of Starfleet regulations for safe approach distances to various anomalies. Ensign Ling was laughing at Kirk’s impression of Spock being torn between following regulations and his desire for scientific inquiry. “It’s actually kind of adorable, the way he pretends to be so immersed in taking readings. See, that way he can avoid noticing that Chekov’s course coordinates have us blatantly violating Starfleet regulations.”
“Yeah, by like two kilometers,” laughed Ling, then she caught herself and looked panicked at the idea of making fun of Commander Spock.
Kirk just laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Exactly. Speaking of which, have you received Commander Spock’s report on the known irregularities in this sector? I think he’d planned to submit it by 2100.”
“There’s nothing in the network, Captain.”
“Huh. Weird. Let’s bother him about it.” He pressed the comm button on the arm of his chair.
“Captain Kirk to Commander Spock.” There was no response. “Kirk to Spock, come in Spock.” Still no response. Kirk stared at the comm for a moment, then glanced at Uhura, who shrugged her shoulders. “Computer, report location of Commander Spock.”
“Commander Spock is in his quarters.”
“What the hell?”
“Maybe he is asleep, sir,” suggested Chekov.
“No way, he never goes to sleep this early,” Jim responded, then hoped no one thought to ask him how he would know that. “Computer, report Commander Spock’s vital signs,” he said, and the atmosphere on the Bridge suddenly felt all too serious.
“Accelerated heart rate, irregular breathing, body temperature above Vulcan norm…”
“That’s enough. Bridge to sickbay, Bones, get over to Spock’s quarters right now, I’ll meet you there.” Jim was out of his chair and in the turbolift before Bones had even responded that he was on his way.
Jim got there first, overrode the locked door and stepped into Spock’s quarters. He was barely inside the room when he smelled the familiar scent of pot smoke and saw the pipe - his pipe - on the bedside table. “Oh no, oh shit,” he started, continuing a stream of worried profanity as he frantically opened the bathroom door. Spock lay on the floor, unconscious, one arm draped around the base of the toilet. Jim knelt down, saying “Jesus Spock, wake up, come on.” He slapped him lightly on the cheek, which was cool and clammy to the touch. He was breathing, shallowly, but breathing, and Jim had just begun to wonder where the hell Bones was when the doctor ran in and dropped down beside him.
“Jesus Jim, what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know Bones, oh my God,” Jim ran his hands through his hair and his face went hot as the thought hit him that this was his fault. “He must have gotten into my quarters somehow, I think he smoked some weed, shit Bones, he must have really smoked it, he never tried that before, we didn’t know what it would do to him.” Bones was focused on Spock, but Jim knew he would be facing a profanity-laced lecture from his CMO before the night was over. “Bones, is he okay, is he gonna be okay?” He scooted closer but Bones elbowed him out of the way.
“Get back, Jim, like you haven’t done enough already. He’s breathing. We need to get him to sickbay to see if we can get this shit out of his system before it gets worse.”
“Worse?!”
“I don’t know Jim, I haven’t exactly studied the effects of pot on Vulcan physiology.” He glared at Jim. “I thought you were the expert in that particular research area.”
Jim couldn’t even wipe the concern off his face long enough to scowl at him, so Bones told him to give him a hand and together they lifted Spock up and carried him to sickbay.
They set him on a biobed and Bones slipped an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Bones moved around the room opening drawers and loading up hyposprays. Jim flinched when he saw Bones coming toward him with a handful of the hypos, but Bones pushed past him and administered the drugs to Spock one after another.
He stood up. “That should help.” They watched Spock silently for a moment, then Bones leaned over him, gripping one of his shoulders. “Come on Spock, wake up,” he muttered, and Jim wondered exactly how worried Bones was that he wouldn’t.
Then Spock’s eyes fluttered open weakly and he coughed and struggled to sit up. Bones yanked the oxygen mask off of his face just in time, as Spock leaned over the side of the bed, his body wracked with dry heaves. When he lay back, his face was covered in sweat and he looked even paler than usual. Jim leaned over him and touched a hand to his cheek, forcing Spock to look into his worried eyes. “Spock, thank God, you’re okay, Spock, it’s okay, Jesus, what the hell were you thinking, you idiot, what the fuck.” He was babbling, stroking Spock’s cheek, his forehead, running a hand through Spock’s hair and then bringing it up to wipe the tears from his eyes.
Spock tried to speak but Jim held a finger to his lips. “It’s okay Spock, don’t talk, you don’t have to talk, but later you’re going to tell me what the fuck you were thinking, Spock, you had no idea what would happen, why didn’t you just ask me.” He paused again and Bones took the opportunity to pull him away from Spock’s side.
“Alright Jim, Jesus, give him a rest. Look, why don’t you take a rest, I’ll keep an eye on him, okay? Go get some air or something, and I will deal with you later.”
Jim really, really didn’t want to leave, but he also was quite frankly terrified of Bones right now, so he decided to heed the doctor’s suggestion and go get some air. Getting some air, in this case, meant pacing the Observation Deck, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, wondering how they had gotten to this point. God, it had all started so innocently. So he wanted to smoke before he went to sleep, big fucking deal. Then Spock had to show up, and then he was all…curious, and then he was smiling, and then there were the sensations and then…then Jim didn’t even know. At some point he’d stopped giving a fuck about the pot and all he cared about was Spock showing up. But apparently Spock hadn’t felt the same way, since now Spock couldn’t go one fucking night without smoking, whether Jim was there or not. Was he really so desperate that he was ransacking Jim’s room while Jim was on the Bridge doing his fucking job? Jim paced the length of the Deck, his mind swinging wildly between giddy relief and uneasy fear and the terrifying feeling that this was out of his control and that he wouldn’t be able to bring Spock back from whatever mental hell he was up against right now. At some point in the night, his legs gave out underneath him and he found himself propped against the window, stars sliding past behind him as he sobbed quietly into his hands.
When he woke up, he was slumped on the floor, his back still pressed to the observation window. Bones was looking at him from across the room. “Hell if you think I’m going over there to help you up,” he said gruffly, but his voice was gentler as he added, “Spock’s stable and rested now. I think you should go see him.”
They walked down the corridor together. “Did you ask him anything?” he asked Bones.
“Good try, buddy, but I’m leaving that little walk in the park up to you.”
Jim rubbed his eyes. “Fuck Bones, what am I supposed to say to him?”
“I don’t know, Jim,” Bones said, sounding tired, “but maybe you can save the questions and the lecture for later. Not too much later, mind you. Right now, I think he just needs to know you’re there for him.” Bones put a hand on Jim’s arm, stopping them in the middle of the hall. His expression was serious. “Jim. You are there for him, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am, God, yeah, of course. But he knows that! At least, I thought he did….”
Bones held Jim’s gaze for a moment before he continued. “Jim, listen, I want you to know, I’m here for you, too, okay? For both of you. I have resources, whatever you need, support, counseling, methods to cure addiction…”
“Bones, it’s not.-“
“Jim,” Bones gripped his arm tightly. “Listen to me. Just in case, okay? Just…don’t be scared to
ask.”
Jim nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Back in sickbay, Jim took Spock’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He caught Spock’s gaze and winced at the sadness he saw there. “Spock. I’m here, okay?”
“I am sorry, Jim.”
“Shh, Spock, shh.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Spock’s temple. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to rest, okay, and I’m gonna stay right here with you.”
“Jim, I do not think I can sleep without…I do not think I can sleep here.”
“Okay. Okay, hold on, let me go ask Bones something.” He stood to leave but Spock squeezed his hand.
“Stay with me.”
“Okay. HEY BONES!” he yelled across sickbay. Bones stepped out of his office frowning and Jim gave an apologetic shrug. “Bones, do you think maybe I can take Spock back to my quarters? Let him sleep there tonight? I’ll make sure he comes back here in the morning so you can check him out.”
Bones sighed and ran a hand through his hair, but then nodded begrudgingly. “Fine. But I’m taking him there with you, he’s still very weak.” Jim helped Spock sit up and Bones put an arm around his other side for support as they walked to the captain’s quarters. As Jim helped Spock into the bed, Bones went straight for the bedside cabinet, opening it and pulling out a wooden box and a lighter. Jim’s eyes widened as he realized what Bones was doing. “Don’t say another word, Jim, I swear to God. I’ll hold on to this for you, for now, and we can talk about it later.” Jim nodded.
Bones stopped again at the door. “I’m serious Jim, I want Spock back in sickbay as soon as he wakes up. Make sure he drinks water, okay? I’ve gotten him rehydrated but it will still help. If he wants to eat something, give him some crackers, that’s it.”
“Okay, okay, Bones, I got it.”
“Alright. Goodnight Jim.”
“Night. And Bones? Thanks.”
Bones nodded as the door slid shut behind him.
Jim sat down on the bed next to Spock. His clothes were damp with sweat and he looked miserable. Jim pulled Spock’s shirt off, then his own, and rummaged in a drawer, pulling out two comfy cotton hoodies. Spock sat up and let Jim pull the sweatshirt over him, then Jim did the same with a pair of well-worn pajama pants. He slid under the covers next to Spock and propped himself up on an elbow, wrapping his other arm around Spock’s torso.
“Spock?” he whispered. “You still with me?”
“I am awake.”
“How do you feel?”
A beat passed before Spock said quietly, “Ashamed.”
Jim tightened his grip on Spock’s waist. “How does your body feel?”
Spock turned toward him in the darkness. “Comfortable.”
Jim smiled and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay.” Jim lay down all the way, and nestled in beside Spock, his forehead pressed against Spock’s
temple, his leg intertwined with Spock’s beneath the covers. He closed his eyes.
“I was scared.”
Jim opened his eyes, but didn’t move, waiting for Spock to continue.
“I thought I would not be able to sleep, I thought…I thought the nightmares would return.”
“Nightmares?”
“Before….I would have nightmares. About Vulcan, my mother, Nero. They would begin as soon as I closed my eyes. My body tried to rest, but my mind was…troubled. I did not want to go to sleep, so I could not.”
Jim shut his eyes, his heart hurting from the pain in Spock’s voice.
“Then…I could sleep, thanks to the pot. I could sleep and there were no more nightmares and my thoughts were stilled.” Spock shifted in the bed, turning onto his side, burying his face in Jim’s neck. “I was scared to go to sleep tonight. I thought it was the only way… I do not want the nightmares to return, Jim.”
“I know, Spock,” Jim whispered, rubbing small circles against Spock’s back, trying to ease the tension that he could feel there. “Just try to rest, okay? Close your eyes. I’ll be here, I’ll fight off Nero for you.” Jim felt a tear slide down his cheek and found himself desperately hoping that he would be enough.
Jim woke up once in the middle of the night to find that neither of them had shifted in their sleep. He pried himself out of Spock’s arms and slid out of bed to get a glass of water. When he returned to the bed, Spock hadn’t moved, but Jim could see that his eyes were open now, watching him silently. Jim coaxed him into a sitting position to take a drink, then lay back down beside him. They held each other again without a thought, their bodies fitting together easily, a comforting warmth that Jim suddenly couldn’t imagine living without.
“No nightmares, Spock?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Jim placed a soft kiss on his cheek, a chaste goodnight kiss, or at least that’s what he had intended. But Spock put a hand on his cheek and kissed him on the lips, once, then again, then pressed his tongue hungrily against Jim’s lips.
Jim pressed lightly against Spock’s chest. “Spock, stop. You need to sleep.”
“I wish to kiss you.”
Jim chuckled. “Sheesh, Spock, you sound like you’re still high. Why don’t you go back to sleep and dream about kissing me, okay? At least one of us has to captain this ship tomorrow.”
Spock stilled, then turned over so his back was to Jim. Jim frowned, then shrugged, and pressed up against him anyway, sliding an arm around his waist. He thought maybe he should have told Spock that there could be plenty of time for kissing, later, but Spock was already asleep.
***
In the morning, Spock insisted on changing into his uniform before they walked down to sickbay. Spock sat stiffly on a biobed as McCoy checked him over with a tricorder. Bones snapped the tricorder shut and declared that Spock’s vital signs were improved and that, as far as he could tell, there would be no lingering physical effects. Bones crossed his arms and glared at Spock. “Now look, Spock. I don’t even know where to start with you on this…”
“There is no need to lecture me, Doctor,” Spock said quietly.
“Is that so? Well that’d better be because you’re hearing my lecture in your head right now, Spock, and I hope you listen to me. And I think maybe you could use another day of rest before you return to the Bridge.”
“Nor is there any need to punish me.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to take your word on that, Spock.”
“Doctor McCoy. Please. I believe it would be…most beneficial…for me to return to my duties.”
Bones looked at Jim, who shrugged. Bones shook his head, sighed, and said, “Fine.” He gave Jim a pointed look that left no doubt as to who he really considered responsible for Spock’s continued well-being.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Jim nodded at Bones and followed Spock out the door.
***
Jim followed Spock off the Bridge onto the turbo lift. Spock’s face was void of emotion as he looked at Jim.
“Spock. Come to my quarters tonight.”
Spock looked away and clasped his hands behind his back. “I was under the impression that Dr. McCoy had confiscated-“
“Yeah, he confiscated my stash,” Jim interrupted. “I just thought, maybe, we could...talk, or something. Just hang out, you know?”
Spock glanced down at Jim’s hand, which was gripping him firmly by the elbow. Jim relaxed his grip a little, but didn’t let go.
“Jim… What I told you last night… I did not mean to make you feel obligated to…babysit me.” It was a term he’d heard Bones use a number of times, usually in reference to his duties regarding Jim’s safety.
Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Look, Spock, that’s not what I’m talking about. If you don’t want to come over, fine. Just keep in mind that maybe you’re not the only one who…doesn’t want to be alone.” His voice faltered into the silence, and he let go of Spock’s arm.
As the door to the turbolift opened, Spock nodded, and as he stepped out he responded, “I will see you at the usual hour.” Jim let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as the door slid shut.
***
For a moment, Spock thought that maybe he had entered the wrong quarters. The lights were at 100% and the blankets and pillows were on the bed, and Spock almost turned around before he noticed Jim watching him from his seat at the desk. Jim set down his PADD and stood up, nodding at Spock and not really knowing what to do with his hands, or for that matter what to say or where to look. After a long minute, Jim coughed and asked Spock if maybe he’d like to play a game of chess. Spock nodded and took a seat as Jim set up the chessboard on his desk. Ten minutes in, Jim realized that he had lost all pretense of strategy, his focus slipping from the board, his eyes flicking to Spock’s hands and jaw and shoulder. Spock was concentrating, summoning all of his willpower to avoid glancing toward the cabinet by the bed or at the unrumpled blankets tucked securely around the mattress. They stared blankly at the board, lost in their own minds. Jim’s heart was in his throat as he reached across to take hold of Spock’s hand, pressing his thumb into Spock’s palm. He kept his eyes on the board and drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to play chess,” he said, his voice choked.
“I must admit that the game is not holding my full attention,” Spock said softly.
Jim stood up, pulling Spock up with him, and moved into Spock’s space, reaching for him. Spock took a step back.
“This…isn’t what you want?” Jim asked. Spock’s eyes shot to the cabinet by the bed. Jim squinted in anger, and disbelief. “Fuck the weed, Spock, that’s not what this is about anymore.”
“I do not know,” Spock murmured.
“Well, I know,” said Jim, setting a tentative hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You wanted to kiss me last night, Spock.”
“You said yourself, that was a result of the lingering effects of the drug in my system.”
“I did not say that.”
“You implied.”
“Well, tell me then. Was it? Was that all that any of this ever was?”
“Jim, you never indicated-“
“Spock, we’re not talking about me. You’re not on drugs right now. Ask yourself - do you want to kiss me? And remember - Vulcans don’t lie.”
“It will not feel the same.”
“Oh yeah?” Jim grabbed Spock, one hand fisted in his hair, the other curled around the side of his neck and he pressed his tongue against Spock’s ear, licking relentlessly, sloppily, leaving a damp trail from the lobe to the tip and back again. Spock shook and gasped and tried to pull away, but Jim had a firm hold on him and wasn’t ready to let him go. He pressed a trail of kisses along Spock’s jaw and swiped his tongue across Spock’s closed lips, again and again until he felt Spock’s resistance decrease by a fraction. Then he plunged his tongue into Spock’s mouth, wanting to show Spock what it could be like and at the same time wanting to take as much as he could, just in case this was the last time. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust and anticipation.
“So. Did it feel the same?”
“No.”
Jim felt his heart sink. “Right. Well then…” He moved to pull away but Spock was gripping him firmly by the forearms.
“Jim. It felt better.”
Jim’s brow furrowed in confusion, then his eyes widened with understanding and he broke into a smile.
He slid his arms around Spock, who was still slightly stunned. “You look a little surprised, Spock. Did you really think this was all about the weed?”
“I…yes. Until this moment.”
“What about last night, Spock? That didn’t offer some kind of clue as to how I feel about you?”
“I thought you did not want me to spend the night alone.”
“You’re damn right I didn’t want you to spend the night alone. I wanted you to spend it with me, in my bed, wrapped in my arms.” Jim felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest as he confessed to Spock what he had only just realized himself. “I think I want to spend every night like that.” He pressed his lips against Spock’s neck. “Spock. I promise you, you will never have to spend another night alone.”
He felt Spock relax into him. “That would be satisfactory.”
***
Jim felt butterflies in his stomach, and he fought to suppress a smile as Spock stepped onto the Bridge. It was a strange and heady feeling, how after all the time that they’d spent together over the past month, after all the things they’d done together, everything could still seem so new. He could finally allow himself to think about Spock in the light of day and, well, truth be told, he’d probably been spending a little too much time thinking about Spock in the light of day.
“Captain, I am detecting an atmospheric disturbance in the planet’s southern hemisphere. Shall I conduct a scan?”
“That sounds great, Spocky.”
“Captain, despite the excessive level of casual communication that is encouraged aboard this ship, I must ask that you refrain from addressing me as ‘Spocky’.”
“Duly noted, Commander. Carry on.”
Okay, so maybe sometimes he let his giddiness seep out a little bit, but really, he couldn’t help it. It had been less than a week since Bones confiscated his weed, and they’d spent that time enthusiastically discovering that yes, in fact, everything still felt pretty damn good without it. The sex was great, of course, the kissing incredible as always, but what really made Jim feel amazing, what really made him feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, were those moments right before they fell asleep. Lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, comfortable and warm and easy, Jim could feel his excess energy drain away as he held Spock close, anchored, as they drifted off into dreamless sleep.
***
“Jim, I have done something illogical.”
“Yeah, I’d say you’ve done kind of a shitload of illogical stuff over the past month.”
“Yes, but what I am referring to represents a…particularly blatant disregard for logic.”
“Particularly blatant, eh?” Jim asked, tracing patterns across Spock’s bare chest. “Alright. What have you done that’s sooo illogical?”
Spock looked at him. “I have fallen in love with my captain.”
Jim’s breath caught in his throat and his hand stilled, palm flat on Spock’s chest. When he looked up at Spock, his eyes were damp. His voice was a ragged whisper. “Spock….I’ve wanted to tell you…”
“Jim,” Spock stopped him, pulled him close. “You did tell me.”
Jim smiled but there was an uncertainty to it, a desperation. “You don’t know, Spock. You can’t possibly know how much I love you.”
“I can know, Jim, if you would like to show me,” Spock said, sliding a hand up to Jim’s cheek.
Jim pressed a kiss into his palm and nodded. “I want you to see.”
Spock placed his fingers deliberately on Jim’s face. Jim closed his eyes as he heard Spock murmur the words, “Our minds, one and together.”
There was something he wanted to tell Spock, and he pushed the thought forward so it was the first thing Spock saw in his mind, a blazing sign that said, “You are better than any drug.”
And he felt, echoing back across Spock’s thoughts, the answer, “You are all that I will ever need.”
***
Epilogue
Spock stared longingly at a potted plant on Jim’s desk, a gift from Sulu.
“I know, Spock. I’m gonna miss it, too, a little.”
“Why will you miss it, Jim?”
“I don’t know. I think I’ll miss knowing what you’re thinking. I already miss seeing you smile, and pout. You’re so damn cute when you smile.”
“I shall endeavor to smile for you, Jim. But Jim..”
“Yes?”
“Only for you.”
Jim grinned. “Exactly the way I want it,” he said, wrapping his arms around Spock and setting his chin on Spock’s shoulder. “So…are we gonna do this?”
“Affirmative.”
Jim leaned around Spock to hit the comm on the desk. “Okay, Bones. We’re ready.”
Bones sounded cheerful on the other end. “Great. Meet you there.”
Five minutes later, they found Bones standing at the airlock door, a genuine grin on his face.
“Bones, have I ever told you that you get way too much enjoyment out of doing this? Heaven forbid Keenser should wander by when you’re feeling punchy.”
“Shut up.”
Through the window they could see a small pile of innocent-looking greenery lying on the floor of the airlock. “Any last words?” Bones asked.
Jim said nothing, just gave Spock’s hand a small squeeze and took a deep breath. “Alright, Bones. Space it!”
Bones hit the controls and the outer door slid open. And just like that, the weed was gone, pulled into the darkness and out of their lives, leaving behind only memories and Spock’s fingers tangled in Jim’s.
The End
(Part 2/2), Part 1 is here.
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Word Count: 14,400
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use
Description: Spock finds Jim Kirk in a cloud of smoke, and Jim discovers the entertainment value of a stoned Vulcan.
A/N: Inspired by the song Day N Nite by Kid Cudi: Listen
Many thanks to beta gwenaterra
Jim Kirk appeared in the doorway of the medical office, looking far too pleased with himself and with life in general.
“So?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you have a good time last night?”
“Yeah, it was great.”
“So, what do you think? Wanna do it again sometime?”
"Yeah, I don't think I'm ever going to be doing that again. Ever."
"Why not? I thought we had fun!"
"Oh, it was loads of fun. Until you and Spock started mouth-fucking and left me stoned and rolling around on the floor to entertain myself. I don't really feel the need to be the third wheel."
"Third wheel? Bones, it's not like that!"
"Yeah, it is. And don't even start about that 'sensations' crap."
"But Bones, it is about the sensations..."
"Uh huh. Listen, I understand the appeal of a tongue down the throat as much as the next man, but
that was just ridiculous. Jesus, Jim, have you two been doing THAT every night for the past two weeks, too?”
“Nooo,” Jim said slowly. “Not every night.”
And they hadn’t. There was too much to explore, after all. After the ingenious introduction of the back massage, they’d moved on to feet, and hands, and chests, and then there were things like ice and feathers to try out, and one time Spock had almost gone into convulsions when Jim dripped a stripe of hot wax along the inside of his forearm. And sure, maybe they’d sought out each others’ mouths on more than one occasion, but it definitely didn’t happen every night.
“My God, Jim , please tell me you guys haven’t…done it?”
“Is that the medical term, doc?” Jim asked drily, but inside he was kind of freaking out, because to be honest, sex hadn’t really come into it at all. Not that anyone would believe him if he’d told them, but for the most part they’d been too content with their lazy explorations to think about sex, or lust. Jim figured that Spock was so overwhelmed with the feeling of Jim’s touch on his hand or ear that he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if Jim touched him in a more…sensitive area. The strange thing was, Jim felt the exact same way.
“For your information, no, we haven’t ‘done it’, and before you ask, no, he hasn’t touched my ‘thing’ either. Medical term.”
Actually, now that he thought about it, for someone who’d spent most of his adult life focused on one particular part of his anatomy, it was rather astonishing how little attention he’d paid to it over the past couple weeks. Which wasn’t to say that he hadn’t jacked off once or twice after Spock left his quarters, but touching himself was different than being touched, and anyway, it wasn’t like he could fall asleep if his cock was hard as hell. At least, that’s what he’d told himself as he thrust desperately into his hand, stroking hard and fast until he came to the memory of fingers and lips on his skin.
***
When Spock showed up at his quarters that night, he appeared uneasy, looking around as he stepped into the room. “Should I expect the doctor to be joining us again tonight, Jim?”
“No, Spock, I think we scared Bones off for good.”
Spock’s expression changed slightly as he took a seat and Jim was shocked to recognize that Spock looked rather… smug.
“Oh my God, you devious bastard,” Jim exclaimed, poking Spock in the shoulder. “You did that on purpose! You made out with me just to freak Bones out!”
Spock looked down at Jim’s finger with a raised eyebrow. “Well…not just to freak Bones out,” he intoned, and the corner of his mouth twitched up again.
Jim slumped back, shaking his head, still in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”
“Jim?”
“What?”
“Was it your intention to smoke tonight?”
“Oh shit, yeah, I almost forgot. Huh. Weird.” He opened the cabinet and got the pipe ready, lit up, and sucked in deeply. Spock’s eyes flicked involuntarily to Jim’s mouth and remained there as Jim opened his eyes. Jim pulled the pipe away and formed an “O” with his mouth, blowing out a series of perfectly formed smoke rings. Spock’s eyes widened in surprise and he forgot to even breathe in the smoke. Jim laughed and took another puff, this time exhaling purposefully in Spock’s direction. He lifted the pipe to his mouth again and had started to inhale when he felt soft lips brush against the skin under his ear. He breathed in sharply at the sensation, choked, and coughed violently for a minute. When he had recovered, he leaned back and, not looking at Spock, said “Jesus, Spock, you know you could kill a man with moves like that.”
Spock leaned toward him again, reaching forward to pull the pipe out of his hand and set it on the floor as he placed his lips back against Jim’s neck. Jim felt warm breath against his ear as Spock whispered, “I thought you might want to know how it feels.” Before Jim could respond, Spock was running his tongue along the shell of Jim’s ear and Jim was writhing in pleasure as the touch sent sparks through his body. He said nothing, tried to remember to keep breathing as Spock took the edge of Jim’s ear lightly between his teeth, nipping, kissing, then pulling Jim’s earlobe in between velvet lips.
Jim had his eyes closed and was so focused on what Spock was doing to his ear that he had barely even noticed that he was hard and that he’d moved his hand to press against his groin, trying to keep his erection at bay. The pressure of his hand on his cock and the friction against the fabric of his pants distracted him momentarily from Spock’s ministrations and he struggled to decide which to focus on. Then Spock’s lips tugged insistently on his earlobe and his hips bucked involuntarily, pushing his straining cock against his hand again. Suddenly, Jim was overcome with the feeling that he could not possibly wait another second to touch himself, and he groped at the fly of his pants as Spock’s lips traced a path down his neck. He shoved his pants and boxers down, wrapping a hand around himself as he tilted his head back to give Spock better access.
Spock felt Jim’s body jerk as he stroked himself and pulled back, his eyes widening with shock as he saw what Jim was doing. “I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim panted as he pushed into his fist, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t…it just felt so good…sorry…” He felt Spock’s eyes on him but he couldn’t stop, not now, not when it felt like fire where Spock’s lips had touched him and like lava pooling in his groin. Without missing a stroke, he gestured with his head toward the bulge in Spock’s pants.
“You can do it, too, Spock, come on. Pot makes it feel so fucking amazing.” He had a rhythm going now, and his breath hitching, interspersed by grunts of pleasure. The sounds alone had Spock reaching for his zipper, any apprehension he might have felt replaced by blinding need. Jim’s head was tipped back, his eyes closed, as Spock felt the cool air hit his throbbing cock, that feeling alone nearly taking his breath away. He reached tentatively to touch himself but another glance at Jim’s fist flying over his dick in fast strokes made Spock forget any ideas he’d had about easing into it and he gripped himself hard and rough. Jim heard Spock moving beside him and opened his eyes, glancing quickly down at Spock’s hand, and it was too much and then he was coming, hitching his t-shirt up to let the thick stream splash across his stomach. As he caught his breath, he looked over to see Spock arching his back, panting, beads of sweat on his brow. Jim reached over to lift the hem of Spock’s shirt, and at the feel of Jim’s fingers against his stomach, Spock moaned and climaxed with a shudder that shook his whole body. They slumped back against the pillows, breathing hard, their shoulders just touching. Spock fought to harness his emotions and immediately regretted it, as shame flooded through him. Without looking at Jim, he pushed his shirt down, zipped up his pants, and stood to leave. Behind him, he heard Jim’s voice, low and rough and Spock could tell that he was smiling as he said, “Felt awesome, didn’t it?” Spock nodded once, without looking back, and left.
***
When the door slid open the next night, Jim was standing right there. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled nervously. “Thought you might not show tonight,” he said lightly.
Spock had an answer prepared. “If you would prefer that I leave-“
“No, no, Spock, get your ass in here,” Jim replied, grinning and grabbing Spock by the arm to pull him into the room. Jim wasted no time lighting up and for a few minutes it seemed like they might revert back to their previous pattern of comfortable silence interspersed with funny stories. But then Jim took a long hit off the pipe, sucking deep, his cheeks hollowing with the effort and Spock’s breath hitched as he stared at Jim’s mouth. Jim heard Spock’s breath catch and glanced at him through lowered eyelashes, and then Spock was reaching over, pulling the pipe out of his fingers and pressing their mouths together and fumbling at the zipper of his own pants. Jim pushed Spock’s hand aside and undid the zipper himself, breaking the kiss and leaning down to run his tongue across the hot skin of Spock’s pelvis. He knew what Spock wanted and he didn’t make him wait, wrapping his lips around the head of Spock’s rigid cock and sucking, slowly taking him deep into his mouth. He felt a sharp pain as Spock gripped his hair tightly, but he only sucked harder in response. He could feel Spock’s body tensing, and he pulled away, sitting up to kiss Spock deeply and sloppily, Spock’s hand still fisted in his hair.
Then he was straddling Spock, his hands in Spock’s hair and on his neck, and he whispered “God, Spock, I want to make you come, I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard you won’t even know your own name.” Spock responded by gripping Jim’s shoulder and maneuvering his head back down into his lap, where Jim was more than happy to stay. Jim worked him over with long, wide swipes of his tongue, licking up the length of his cock and swirling around the tip, slurping and moaning obscenely as he took Spock back into his mouth. Spock was trying hard not to thrust into Jim’s mouth, but it didn’t matter, because Jim was sliding his lips up and down Spock’s shaft, gripping the base with one hand and twisting slightly, and then he was swallowing, and Spock was coming in his mouth, gasping as he watched Jim drink him in.
Jim lay on the floor looking up at Spock as he prepared to return to his quarters.
“Spock,” he said, still panting slightly.
“Yes, Jim?” Spock stood over him, an eyebrow raised.
“I think we’ve just opened the door to a whole new realm of sensations to explore. Ya know…in the name of scientific research and all that.”
Spock looked down at him. “I would be interested in attempting to repeat the results of this evening’s experiment.”
“You have a dirty mind, Spock,” Jim called to him as he stepped out the door. “I wholeheartedly approve.”
* * * * *
Jim had never let his nightly indulgences affect him on the job and he wasn’t about to start. That didn’t necessarily mean he was looking forward to telling Spock that he had to pull a double shift and cancel their evening activities. Apparently his apprehension had been well-founded, as he was now observing Spock react with subtle panic to the idea of spending a night without - well, either him or the pot, Jim wasn’t quite sure which.
“I could inquire as to whether any other officers would be willing to oversee Ensign Ling’s command training.”
“What are you saying, Spock, you think someone else would do a better job than me?”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t you think Ensign Ling should have the best training available? For the good of the ship?”
“I do.”
“Which is why I have to be on the Bridge tonight, Spock. I know you know this, and I think you’re just being difficult.”
He had to imagine Spock’s pout.
“Would it not be more logical to oversee her training next week, when we are orbiting Philius?”
“No, Spock, it would not be more logical, unless you think the logical time to implement command training is in the midst of potentially hostile trade negotiations. You’re really grasping at straws here, Spock, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were, I don’t know, addicted.”
Now he imagined Spock scowling.
“I mean, I’m flattered Spock. I had no idea you were so desperate to spend time with me.”
Something flashed across Spock’s eyes, but he quickly reined it in and responded, in a clipped tone, “I believe I shall survive the experience.”
“Good. I am sorry Spock,” he said, clapping Spock on the shoulder. And he was. “But, you know, we have been doing this for, like, three weeks straight. Maybe we could both use a little break?”
Jim had no idea what expression to imagine as Spock simply replied “Indeed.”
***
Ensign Ling’s training was going well. They’d run a few simulations and in the slow, casual atmosphere of the night shift, Ling’s eager questions had led the Bridge crew into a lively discussion of the practicality of Starfleet regulations for safe approach distances to various anomalies. Ensign Ling was laughing at Kirk’s impression of Spock being torn between following regulations and his desire for scientific inquiry. “It’s actually kind of adorable, the way he pretends to be so immersed in taking readings. See, that way he can avoid noticing that Chekov’s course coordinates have us blatantly violating Starfleet regulations.”
“Yeah, by like two kilometers,” laughed Ling, then she caught herself and looked panicked at the idea of making fun of Commander Spock.
Kirk just laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Exactly. Speaking of which, have you received Commander Spock’s report on the known irregularities in this sector? I think he’d planned to submit it by 2100.”
“There’s nothing in the network, Captain.”
“Huh. Weird. Let’s bother him about it.” He pressed the comm button on the arm of his chair.
“Captain Kirk to Commander Spock.” There was no response. “Kirk to Spock, come in Spock.” Still no response. Kirk stared at the comm for a moment, then glanced at Uhura, who shrugged her shoulders. “Computer, report location of Commander Spock.”
“Commander Spock is in his quarters.”
“What the hell?”
“Maybe he is asleep, sir,” suggested Chekov.
“No way, he never goes to sleep this early,” Jim responded, then hoped no one thought to ask him how he would know that. “Computer, report Commander Spock’s vital signs,” he said, and the atmosphere on the Bridge suddenly felt all too serious.
“Accelerated heart rate, irregular breathing, body temperature above Vulcan norm…”
“That’s enough. Bridge to sickbay, Bones, get over to Spock’s quarters right now, I’ll meet you there.” Jim was out of his chair and in the turbolift before Bones had even responded that he was on his way.
Jim got there first, overrode the locked door and stepped into Spock’s quarters. He was barely inside the room when he smelled the familiar scent of pot smoke and saw the pipe - his pipe - on the bedside table. “Oh no, oh shit,” he started, continuing a stream of worried profanity as he frantically opened the bathroom door. Spock lay on the floor, unconscious, one arm draped around the base of the toilet. Jim knelt down, saying “Jesus Spock, wake up, come on.” He slapped him lightly on the cheek, which was cool and clammy to the touch. He was breathing, shallowly, but breathing, and Jim had just begun to wonder where the hell Bones was when the doctor ran in and dropped down beside him.
“Jesus Jim, what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know Bones, oh my God,” Jim ran his hands through his hair and his face went hot as the thought hit him that this was his fault. “He must have gotten into my quarters somehow, I think he smoked some weed, shit Bones, he must have really smoked it, he never tried that before, we didn’t know what it would do to him.” Bones was focused on Spock, but Jim knew he would be facing a profanity-laced lecture from his CMO before the night was over. “Bones, is he okay, is he gonna be okay?” He scooted closer but Bones elbowed him out of the way.
“Get back, Jim, like you haven’t done enough already. He’s breathing. We need to get him to sickbay to see if we can get this shit out of his system before it gets worse.”
“Worse?!”
“I don’t know Jim, I haven’t exactly studied the effects of pot on Vulcan physiology.” He glared at Jim. “I thought you were the expert in that particular research area.”
Jim couldn’t even wipe the concern off his face long enough to scowl at him, so Bones told him to give him a hand and together they lifted Spock up and carried him to sickbay.
They set him on a biobed and Bones slipped an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Bones moved around the room opening drawers and loading up hyposprays. Jim flinched when he saw Bones coming toward him with a handful of the hypos, but Bones pushed past him and administered the drugs to Spock one after another.
He stood up. “That should help.” They watched Spock silently for a moment, then Bones leaned over him, gripping one of his shoulders. “Come on Spock, wake up,” he muttered, and Jim wondered exactly how worried Bones was that he wouldn’t.
Then Spock’s eyes fluttered open weakly and he coughed and struggled to sit up. Bones yanked the oxygen mask off of his face just in time, as Spock leaned over the side of the bed, his body wracked with dry heaves. When he lay back, his face was covered in sweat and he looked even paler than usual. Jim leaned over him and touched a hand to his cheek, forcing Spock to look into his worried eyes. “Spock, thank God, you’re okay, Spock, it’s okay, Jesus, what the hell were you thinking, you idiot, what the fuck.” He was babbling, stroking Spock’s cheek, his forehead, running a hand through Spock’s hair and then bringing it up to wipe the tears from his eyes.
Spock tried to speak but Jim held a finger to his lips. “It’s okay Spock, don’t talk, you don’t have to talk, but later you’re going to tell me what the fuck you were thinking, Spock, you had no idea what would happen, why didn’t you just ask me.” He paused again and Bones took the opportunity to pull him away from Spock’s side.
“Alright Jim, Jesus, give him a rest. Look, why don’t you take a rest, I’ll keep an eye on him, okay? Go get some air or something, and I will deal with you later.”
Jim really, really didn’t want to leave, but he also was quite frankly terrified of Bones right now, so he decided to heed the doctor’s suggestion and go get some air. Getting some air, in this case, meant pacing the Observation Deck, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, wondering how they had gotten to this point. God, it had all started so innocently. So he wanted to smoke before he went to sleep, big fucking deal. Then Spock had to show up, and then he was all…curious, and then he was smiling, and then there were the sensations and then…then Jim didn’t even know. At some point he’d stopped giving a fuck about the pot and all he cared about was Spock showing up. But apparently Spock hadn’t felt the same way, since now Spock couldn’t go one fucking night without smoking, whether Jim was there or not. Was he really so desperate that he was ransacking Jim’s room while Jim was on the Bridge doing his fucking job? Jim paced the length of the Deck, his mind swinging wildly between giddy relief and uneasy fear and the terrifying feeling that this was out of his control and that he wouldn’t be able to bring Spock back from whatever mental hell he was up against right now. At some point in the night, his legs gave out underneath him and he found himself propped against the window, stars sliding past behind him as he sobbed quietly into his hands.
When he woke up, he was slumped on the floor, his back still pressed to the observation window. Bones was looking at him from across the room. “Hell if you think I’m going over there to help you up,” he said gruffly, but his voice was gentler as he added, “Spock’s stable and rested now. I think you should go see him.”
They walked down the corridor together. “Did you ask him anything?” he asked Bones.
“Good try, buddy, but I’m leaving that little walk in the park up to you.”
Jim rubbed his eyes. “Fuck Bones, what am I supposed to say to him?”
“I don’t know, Jim,” Bones said, sounding tired, “but maybe you can save the questions and the lecture for later. Not too much later, mind you. Right now, I think he just needs to know you’re there for him.” Bones put a hand on Jim’s arm, stopping them in the middle of the hall. His expression was serious. “Jim. You are there for him, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am, God, yeah, of course. But he knows that! At least, I thought he did….”
Bones held Jim’s gaze for a moment before he continued. “Jim, listen, I want you to know, I’m here for you, too, okay? For both of you. I have resources, whatever you need, support, counseling, methods to cure addiction…”
“Bones, it’s not.-“
“Jim,” Bones gripped his arm tightly. “Listen to me. Just in case, okay? Just…don’t be scared to
ask.”
Jim nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Back in sickbay, Jim took Spock’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He caught Spock’s gaze and winced at the sadness he saw there. “Spock. I’m here, okay?”
“I am sorry, Jim.”
“Shh, Spock, shh.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Spock’s temple. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to rest, okay, and I’m gonna stay right here with you.”
“Jim, I do not think I can sleep without…I do not think I can sleep here.”
“Okay. Okay, hold on, let me go ask Bones something.” He stood to leave but Spock squeezed his hand.
“Stay with me.”
“Okay. HEY BONES!” he yelled across sickbay. Bones stepped out of his office frowning and Jim gave an apologetic shrug. “Bones, do you think maybe I can take Spock back to my quarters? Let him sleep there tonight? I’ll make sure he comes back here in the morning so you can check him out.”
Bones sighed and ran a hand through his hair, but then nodded begrudgingly. “Fine. But I’m taking him there with you, he’s still very weak.” Jim helped Spock sit up and Bones put an arm around his other side for support as they walked to the captain’s quarters. As Jim helped Spock into the bed, Bones went straight for the bedside cabinet, opening it and pulling out a wooden box and a lighter. Jim’s eyes widened as he realized what Bones was doing. “Don’t say another word, Jim, I swear to God. I’ll hold on to this for you, for now, and we can talk about it later.” Jim nodded.
Bones stopped again at the door. “I’m serious Jim, I want Spock back in sickbay as soon as he wakes up. Make sure he drinks water, okay? I’ve gotten him rehydrated but it will still help. If he wants to eat something, give him some crackers, that’s it.”
“Okay, okay, Bones, I got it.”
“Alright. Goodnight Jim.”
“Night. And Bones? Thanks.”
Bones nodded as the door slid shut behind him.
Jim sat down on the bed next to Spock. His clothes were damp with sweat and he looked miserable. Jim pulled Spock’s shirt off, then his own, and rummaged in a drawer, pulling out two comfy cotton hoodies. Spock sat up and let Jim pull the sweatshirt over him, then Jim did the same with a pair of well-worn pajama pants. He slid under the covers next to Spock and propped himself up on an elbow, wrapping his other arm around Spock’s torso.
“Spock?” he whispered. “You still with me?”
“I am awake.”
“How do you feel?”
A beat passed before Spock said quietly, “Ashamed.”
Jim tightened his grip on Spock’s waist. “How does your body feel?”
Spock turned toward him in the darkness. “Comfortable.”
Jim smiled and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay.” Jim lay down all the way, and nestled in beside Spock, his forehead pressed against Spock’s
temple, his leg intertwined with Spock’s beneath the covers. He closed his eyes.
“I was scared.”
Jim opened his eyes, but didn’t move, waiting for Spock to continue.
“I thought I would not be able to sleep, I thought…I thought the nightmares would return.”
“Nightmares?”
“Before….I would have nightmares. About Vulcan, my mother, Nero. They would begin as soon as I closed my eyes. My body tried to rest, but my mind was…troubled. I did not want to go to sleep, so I could not.”
Jim shut his eyes, his heart hurting from the pain in Spock’s voice.
“Then…I could sleep, thanks to the pot. I could sleep and there were no more nightmares and my thoughts were stilled.” Spock shifted in the bed, turning onto his side, burying his face in Jim’s neck. “I was scared to go to sleep tonight. I thought it was the only way… I do not want the nightmares to return, Jim.”
“I know, Spock,” Jim whispered, rubbing small circles against Spock’s back, trying to ease the tension that he could feel there. “Just try to rest, okay? Close your eyes. I’ll be here, I’ll fight off Nero for you.” Jim felt a tear slide down his cheek and found himself desperately hoping that he would be enough.
Jim woke up once in the middle of the night to find that neither of them had shifted in their sleep. He pried himself out of Spock’s arms and slid out of bed to get a glass of water. When he returned to the bed, Spock hadn’t moved, but Jim could see that his eyes were open now, watching him silently. Jim coaxed him into a sitting position to take a drink, then lay back down beside him. They held each other again without a thought, their bodies fitting together easily, a comforting warmth that Jim suddenly couldn’t imagine living without.
“No nightmares, Spock?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Jim placed a soft kiss on his cheek, a chaste goodnight kiss, or at least that’s what he had intended. But Spock put a hand on his cheek and kissed him on the lips, once, then again, then pressed his tongue hungrily against Jim’s lips.
Jim pressed lightly against Spock’s chest. “Spock, stop. You need to sleep.”
“I wish to kiss you.”
Jim chuckled. “Sheesh, Spock, you sound like you’re still high. Why don’t you go back to sleep and dream about kissing me, okay? At least one of us has to captain this ship tomorrow.”
Spock stilled, then turned over so his back was to Jim. Jim frowned, then shrugged, and pressed up against him anyway, sliding an arm around his waist. He thought maybe he should have told Spock that there could be plenty of time for kissing, later, but Spock was already asleep.
***
In the morning, Spock insisted on changing into his uniform before they walked down to sickbay. Spock sat stiffly on a biobed as McCoy checked him over with a tricorder. Bones snapped the tricorder shut and declared that Spock’s vital signs were improved and that, as far as he could tell, there would be no lingering physical effects. Bones crossed his arms and glared at Spock. “Now look, Spock. I don’t even know where to start with you on this…”
“There is no need to lecture me, Doctor,” Spock said quietly.
“Is that so? Well that’d better be because you’re hearing my lecture in your head right now, Spock, and I hope you listen to me. And I think maybe you could use another day of rest before you return to the Bridge.”
“Nor is there any need to punish me.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to take your word on that, Spock.”
“Doctor McCoy. Please. I believe it would be…most beneficial…for me to return to my duties.”
Bones looked at Jim, who shrugged. Bones shook his head, sighed, and said, “Fine.” He gave Jim a pointed look that left no doubt as to who he really considered responsible for Spock’s continued well-being.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Jim nodded at Bones and followed Spock out the door.
***
Jim followed Spock off the Bridge onto the turbo lift. Spock’s face was void of emotion as he looked at Jim.
“Spock. Come to my quarters tonight.”
Spock looked away and clasped his hands behind his back. “I was under the impression that Dr. McCoy had confiscated-“
“Yeah, he confiscated my stash,” Jim interrupted. “I just thought, maybe, we could...talk, or something. Just hang out, you know?”
Spock glanced down at Jim’s hand, which was gripping him firmly by the elbow. Jim relaxed his grip a little, but didn’t let go.
“Jim… What I told you last night… I did not mean to make you feel obligated to…babysit me.” It was a term he’d heard Bones use a number of times, usually in reference to his duties regarding Jim’s safety.
Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Look, Spock, that’s not what I’m talking about. If you don’t want to come over, fine. Just keep in mind that maybe you’re not the only one who…doesn’t want to be alone.” His voice faltered into the silence, and he let go of Spock’s arm.
As the door to the turbolift opened, Spock nodded, and as he stepped out he responded, “I will see you at the usual hour.” Jim let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as the door slid shut.
***
For a moment, Spock thought that maybe he had entered the wrong quarters. The lights were at 100% and the blankets and pillows were on the bed, and Spock almost turned around before he noticed Jim watching him from his seat at the desk. Jim set down his PADD and stood up, nodding at Spock and not really knowing what to do with his hands, or for that matter what to say or where to look. After a long minute, Jim coughed and asked Spock if maybe he’d like to play a game of chess. Spock nodded and took a seat as Jim set up the chessboard on his desk. Ten minutes in, Jim realized that he had lost all pretense of strategy, his focus slipping from the board, his eyes flicking to Spock’s hands and jaw and shoulder. Spock was concentrating, summoning all of his willpower to avoid glancing toward the cabinet by the bed or at the unrumpled blankets tucked securely around the mattress. They stared blankly at the board, lost in their own minds. Jim’s heart was in his throat as he reached across to take hold of Spock’s hand, pressing his thumb into Spock’s palm. He kept his eyes on the board and drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to play chess,” he said, his voice choked.
“I must admit that the game is not holding my full attention,” Spock said softly.
Jim stood up, pulling Spock up with him, and moved into Spock’s space, reaching for him. Spock took a step back.
“This…isn’t what you want?” Jim asked. Spock’s eyes shot to the cabinet by the bed. Jim squinted in anger, and disbelief. “Fuck the weed, Spock, that’s not what this is about anymore.”
“I do not know,” Spock murmured.
“Well, I know,” said Jim, setting a tentative hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You wanted to kiss me last night, Spock.”
“You said yourself, that was a result of the lingering effects of the drug in my system.”
“I did not say that.”
“You implied.”
“Well, tell me then. Was it? Was that all that any of this ever was?”
“Jim, you never indicated-“
“Spock, we’re not talking about me. You’re not on drugs right now. Ask yourself - do you want to kiss me? And remember - Vulcans don’t lie.”
“It will not feel the same.”
“Oh yeah?” Jim grabbed Spock, one hand fisted in his hair, the other curled around the side of his neck and he pressed his tongue against Spock’s ear, licking relentlessly, sloppily, leaving a damp trail from the lobe to the tip and back again. Spock shook and gasped and tried to pull away, but Jim had a firm hold on him and wasn’t ready to let him go. He pressed a trail of kisses along Spock’s jaw and swiped his tongue across Spock’s closed lips, again and again until he felt Spock’s resistance decrease by a fraction. Then he plunged his tongue into Spock’s mouth, wanting to show Spock what it could be like and at the same time wanting to take as much as he could, just in case this was the last time. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust and anticipation.
“So. Did it feel the same?”
“No.”
Jim felt his heart sink. “Right. Well then…” He moved to pull away but Spock was gripping him firmly by the forearms.
“Jim. It felt better.”
Jim’s brow furrowed in confusion, then his eyes widened with understanding and he broke into a smile.
He slid his arms around Spock, who was still slightly stunned. “You look a little surprised, Spock. Did you really think this was all about the weed?”
“I…yes. Until this moment.”
“What about last night, Spock? That didn’t offer some kind of clue as to how I feel about you?”
“I thought you did not want me to spend the night alone.”
“You’re damn right I didn’t want you to spend the night alone. I wanted you to spend it with me, in my bed, wrapped in my arms.” Jim felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest as he confessed to Spock what he had only just realized himself. “I think I want to spend every night like that.” He pressed his lips against Spock’s neck. “Spock. I promise you, you will never have to spend another night alone.”
He felt Spock relax into him. “That would be satisfactory.”
***
Jim felt butterflies in his stomach, and he fought to suppress a smile as Spock stepped onto the Bridge. It was a strange and heady feeling, how after all the time that they’d spent together over the past month, after all the things they’d done together, everything could still seem so new. He could finally allow himself to think about Spock in the light of day and, well, truth be told, he’d probably been spending a little too much time thinking about Spock in the light of day.
“Captain, I am detecting an atmospheric disturbance in the planet’s southern hemisphere. Shall I conduct a scan?”
“That sounds great, Spocky.”
“Captain, despite the excessive level of casual communication that is encouraged aboard this ship, I must ask that you refrain from addressing me as ‘Spocky’.”
“Duly noted, Commander. Carry on.”
Okay, so maybe sometimes he let his giddiness seep out a little bit, but really, he couldn’t help it. It had been less than a week since Bones confiscated his weed, and they’d spent that time enthusiastically discovering that yes, in fact, everything still felt pretty damn good without it. The sex was great, of course, the kissing incredible as always, but what really made Jim feel amazing, what really made him feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, were those moments right before they fell asleep. Lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, comfortable and warm and easy, Jim could feel his excess energy drain away as he held Spock close, anchored, as they drifted off into dreamless sleep.
***
“Jim, I have done something illogical.”
“Yeah, I’d say you’ve done kind of a shitload of illogical stuff over the past month.”
“Yes, but what I am referring to represents a…particularly blatant disregard for logic.”
“Particularly blatant, eh?” Jim asked, tracing patterns across Spock’s bare chest. “Alright. What have you done that’s sooo illogical?”
Spock looked at him. “I have fallen in love with my captain.”
Jim’s breath caught in his throat and his hand stilled, palm flat on Spock’s chest. When he looked up at Spock, his eyes were damp. His voice was a ragged whisper. “Spock….I’ve wanted to tell you…”
“Jim,” Spock stopped him, pulled him close. “You did tell me.”
Jim smiled but there was an uncertainty to it, a desperation. “You don’t know, Spock. You can’t possibly know how much I love you.”
“I can know, Jim, if you would like to show me,” Spock said, sliding a hand up to Jim’s cheek.
Jim pressed a kiss into his palm and nodded. “I want you to see.”
Spock placed his fingers deliberately on Jim’s face. Jim closed his eyes as he heard Spock murmur the words, “Our minds, one and together.”
There was something he wanted to tell Spock, and he pushed the thought forward so it was the first thing Spock saw in his mind, a blazing sign that said, “You are better than any drug.”
And he felt, echoing back across Spock’s thoughts, the answer, “You are all that I will ever need.”
***
Epilogue
Spock stared longingly at a potted plant on Jim’s desk, a gift from Sulu.
“I know, Spock. I’m gonna miss it, too, a little.”
“Why will you miss it, Jim?”
“I don’t know. I think I’ll miss knowing what you’re thinking. I already miss seeing you smile, and pout. You’re so damn cute when you smile.”
“I shall endeavor to smile for you, Jim. But Jim..”
“Yes?”
“Only for you.”
Jim grinned. “Exactly the way I want it,” he said, wrapping his arms around Spock and setting his chin on Spock’s shoulder. “So…are we gonna do this?”
“Affirmative.”
Jim leaned around Spock to hit the comm on the desk. “Okay, Bones. We’re ready.”
Bones sounded cheerful on the other end. “Great. Meet you there.”
Five minutes later, they found Bones standing at the airlock door, a genuine grin on his face.
“Bones, have I ever told you that you get way too much enjoyment out of doing this? Heaven forbid Keenser should wander by when you’re feeling punchy.”
“Shut up.”
Through the window they could see a small pile of innocent-looking greenery lying on the floor of the airlock. “Any last words?” Bones asked.
Jim said nothing, just gave Spock’s hand a small squeeze and took a deep breath. “Alright, Bones. Space it!”
Bones hit the controls and the outer door slid open. And just like that, the weed was gone, pulled into the darkness and out of their lives, leaving behind only memories and Spock’s fingers tangled in Jim’s.
The End