Title: Romulan Drugs and Vulcan Possessiveness
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I do not make any money from these fictions.
Rating: M
Summary: Jim goes down to a planet by himself for shore leave – Spock follows when the captain does not answer his communicator. Things happen…K/S slash.


Spock enters the bar where Jim's communicator was last working. He spots his captain immediately. He is sitting on a bar stool, sipping some strangely multi-colored concoction that has a 95.4 percent chance of being illegal.

A Romulan male is crowding his captain, placing a hand around his shoulders and trying to lead him from the stool.

Spock heads over to the pair, Jim's back to him.

"I like your ears. You have pretty ears," Jim is mumbling. "I have a friend with ears like yours."

"Do you, babe?" the Romulan purrs. "That's nice. Would you like to get a room so you can look at my ears in better lighting?"

"You would let me do that?" Jim slurs. "Oh, thank you!"

He throws his arms around his Romulan companion, swaying dizzily.

"Jim," Spock greets, knowing better than to address his friend as "Captain" in this dive of a bar.

It would cause more trouble than it would prevent in a place like this.

"Spock!" Jim crows, whipping around to face him and swaying from side-to-side.

His pupils are blown wide, and Spock can barely see the beautiful blue of his irises. Jim is definitely more than drunk, and he knows his Captain would not take any mind-altering substances on his own.

His eyes cut to the Romulan, and he is 99.5% sure that this male purposefully drugged his Captain for the sake of copulation.

"If you wish to examine pointed ears, you may examine mine, Jim," Spock states firmly to his friend, but his eyes are locked on the Romulan.

"You are my bestest, bestest friend, Spock!" Jim slurs, swaying over to his side before collapsing against him. "But don't tell Bones, k?"

The last comment was murmured against Spock's neck, and it took every last bit of his Vulcan self-control not to shiver.

"Whatever you wish, Jim," Spock responds, his arms going around his Captain's trim waist.

"You're really hot, Spock. Like, really, really hot," Jim says, earnest in his drugged state. "It must be because you are a Vulcan. Bones said all Vulcans are really hot. Cuz Vulcan was one big red desert. Did you know that, Spock? That you're hot because Vulcan was a desert?"

Spock's lips most certainly do not twitch into a smile, because his Captain is not adorable.

Jim would kill him if he even so much as thought that the Captain was adorable. Adorable was for puppies and Chekov, Jim would say.

"A Vulcan's body temperature is several degrees warmer than a human's," Spock simply acknowledges. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

"Hey, he's mine tonight," the Romulan finally interjects. "D'you think you can just walk up and steal him away?"

"Sir, I think you will find that he is most certainly not yours," Spock replies, holding onto his Vulcan self-control by the barest of margins.

All he wants to do is introduce that tattoed face to his fist until Jim cannot even look upon the Romulan without wanting to regurgitate his last three meals.

"Well, then where were you when he was chatting me up before? You better keep a tighter leash on your slut if you don't want him to fall into the wrong hands," the Romulan mouths off.

"I'm not a slut," Jim pouts, looking up at Spock earnestly. "I just like sex. You don't think I'm a slut, do you, Spock?"

"Of course not, Jim," Spock murmurs reassuringly, managing to suppress his anger at the sight of those blown pupils.

"What did you place in his drink?" he questions the Romulan easily.

The male just smirks at him.

"Nothing that will hurt him. Just a little something to make it harder to fight back. Not that he would - he was practically begging for it. Don't you satisfy him at all?" the Romulan questions impertinently.

"Spock satisfied me plenty!" Jim yells, just to be contrary. "And Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise never begs!"

The Romulan looks at his Captain with large eyes and utters a few unmentionable curses.

"Kirk?" he mutters. "I thought you'd be taller. And I didn't know you were so pretty. And young. What did you do, sleep your way to the top?"

Spock gazes warily at the patrons of the bar that are forming a circle around himself and the Captain. As much as he would like to stay and put the Romulan in his place for maligning the Captain's good name, it would not be logical.

So instead, he presses the signal on his communicator, and watches as the bar fades from his sight to be replaced with the transporter room of the Enterprise.

"Woah!!!" Jim mutters. "What did you do that for? I wanted to say 'Beam us up, Scotty.' I love saying that, you know?"

"I am aware, Captain," Spock replies. "What happened to your communicator?"

"I dropped it in the toilet," Jim says seriously. "It was talking to me."

"I think it best if you see Dr. McCoy in sickbay," Spock sighs. "He will want to detoxify you of whichever mind-altering substance you mistakenly imbibed."

"Oh, maybe Bones will want to play Doctor!" Jim exclaims. "I'm horny, and we sometimes play Doctor when I'm horny. Bones is the doctor, of course, cuz he likes to boss me around. Sometimes I like to let him. But only when I'm horny. Otherwise it's just annoying. And not hot. Did you know you're hot, Spock?"

"Captain, you are being even more illogical than usual," Spock replies.

Jim just blinks at him.

"Ooooo-kay," he slurs. "I'm going to sickbay so I can go have sex with Bones now."

Spock most certainly does not growl.

He is the one who went to that bar to preserve the Captain's virtue. If Jim is having sex with anyone tonight, it is going to be him!

"Spock!" Jim shouts delightedly. "You growled! Like, grrr...You do it better than I do. Can you teach me how to growl? It sounds fun...Grrrr...rrr...woah..."

Jim runs out of breath, swaying dizzily.

"I will attempt to teach you how to growl in my quarters, Captain, if you will allow me to escort you?" Spock questions.

He needs to get Jim as far away from sickbay as possible.

Dr. McCoy would obviously take advantage of this situation.

"You really are the best!" Jim murmurs, swaying over to lean heavily against his First Officer.

Spock slips a strong arm around his waist, helping to support them as they travel towards Spock's quarters.

The Vulcan quickly opens the door, helping Jim inside.

"Bed!" the captain exclaims, tumbling onto the mattress. "You have a real comfy bed, Spock. Real comfy, Spock. Spock. Spppock. Spooooock. You have a funny name. I like to say it. Spoooooooockk. Hey! Did you know it rhymes with cock? I like to suck cock, Spock. Ooohhh....cock Spock. Spock cock. Spock's cock! Spock, would you let me see your cock? I would like to suck on it..."

Spock grits his teeth. The captain is obviously not in full possession of his faculties. It would be morally repugnant to engage in sexual activities with him at such a time.

But that thought flees from his mind as Jim starts wiggling out of his clothes.

"It's hot. I don't like being hot. But I like being naked! Do you like being naked, Spock? I bet Spock's cock likes being naked!" Jim exclaims, but Spock is too busy staring at his Captain's beautiful body to take heed of his words.

"Spock!!!" Jim whines. "Take your clothes off! That's an order, officer!"

Spock cannot help the twitch of his lips at the command. Well, if Jim is control, it is not taking advantage...

At least, that's what the Vulcan tells himself.

And he ignores the little voice in the back of his head telling him that self-denial for the purpose of sexual gratification was illogical...

He can worry about that in the morning.


Jim moans, feeling as if Thor has taken his hammer to his brain. His eyes flutter open cautiously, to find the room blessedly dark. He shifts a bit in order to sit up, and encounters warm skin.

Really warm skin.

"Shit," Jim curses to himself, closing his eyes in dismay.

Where is he and who the fuck did he sleep with last night?

"Computer, lights to fifteen percent?" he orders, unsure if the rooms light controls are voice activated.

They are – and the room is more familiar than Jim ever would have guessed. Vulcan weapons cover the walls, and a mat is set up in the corner for meditation.

Jim's aboard the Enterprise – more specifically, he's in Spock's bed.

With Spock.

"Shit," he repeats, glancing down to see his sleeping First Officer.

And then a strong wave of nausea hits him, and he scrambles out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom in order to pay homage to the Porcelain God.

He really should not have gone out drinking alone last night…

"Captain," Spock acknowledges as he walks into the bathroom. "Will it be necessary to contact Dr. McCoy?"

Jim is too busy throwing up to answer, and his mind is occupied with the thought that Spock is naked.



And Jim's naked too.

And they were in bed together – Spock's bed.

And Jim doesn't remember last night.

At this point Jim is retching up bile – there's nothing left in his stomach – and when it finally stops all he can do is moan pitifully and press his forehead to the cool porcelain.

Jim feels a warm hand brushing his hair back from his sweaty forehead, and then he hears a tap running from the sink before Spock picks him up as if he weighs nothing and presses a glass of water to his lips.

After a few seconds of blessedly cool water on his sore throat, Spock pulls the glass away and Jim manages to pull himself together enough to look at his naked friend.

God, he really does not want to have this conversation…

"What happened?" Jim blurts – and he guesses his mouth does not agree with his mind, because now they are going to have this conversation.

"You did not respond to your communicator, and I went ashore to ascertain that nothing was amiss," Spock replies.

Jim cannot help but chuckle.

"You mean that you wanted to make sure that I wasn't in jail or in a fight or something, right?" he asks.

"Indeed," Spock agrees.

Jim frowns, trying to remember what happened the night before. He remembered ordering a drink at the bar – a Cardassian Sunrise, he thinks – and then…nothing.

He wasn't a lightweight – one drink shouldn't have made him black out like that.

"What was wrong?" he asks Spock.

"A Romulan added an illegal intoxicating substance to your beverage," Spock informs him stiffly, shuffling him out of the bathroom and back onto the bed, where Jim gratefully plops down. "I entered the establishment just as he attempted to coerce you into the bathroom for the sake of copulation."

Jim blinks at his First Officer.

"You mean – he drugged me because he wanted to have sex with me? In the bathroom?" he asks, incredulously. "Usually I get drugged because someone wants to kidnap me or add me to their harem or something."

"He did not know your identity," Spock responds dryly. "Or at least, he had not, before you saw fit to announce your full name and position to the patrons of the bar."

"Oh," Jim responds softly. "But you came in before I went anywhere with him, and you got us beamed up before any trouble broke out?"

Spock nods in reassurance, and Jim lays back on the bed in relief. He really does not need any trouble with local planetary authorities…

"Wait a second!" Jim exclaims, quickly sitting back up and holding his head as a shooting pain reverberated around his skull. "Fuck."

"Perhaps I should contact Dr. McCoy," Spock suggests.

Jim just glared at him through the pain.

"Not until I get answers," he grits out through clenched teeth. "Why did I wake up in your room – in your bed – naked?"

"You informed me that you wished to play "Doctor" with Dr. McCoy, and I wished to spare you the embarrassment of such a proposition once you recovered from your inebriated state, so I logically brought you to my room to sleep. You then informed me that my room was too hot and took off your clothes," Spock replies.

Jim moans in embarrassment, throwing an arm over his eyes. He's kind of glad that Spock brought him back to his room to sleep him off – he was probably too out of it to be left alone, and at least he knows that Spock won't tease him like Bones would have.

"Wait…why are you naked?" he asks suspiciously.

"I believe you intended to engage in coitus with me, and in your illogical state decided that the best way to remove my clothes was to regurgitate your dinner upon them so I would be forced to strip," Spock answers.

Jim can feel a blush heat his cheeks, even though he knows that he cannot be held responsible for anything he said while he was drugged.

"Oh," is all he can think to say.

Well, maybe not all…

"So, we did not have sex?" he asks.

"After vomiting, you promptly fell unconscious," Spock tells him.

Jim nods, and then thinks about what Spock said. Vulcans can't lie – but they can certainly leave things out and let you come to your own conclusions…

"So, we would have had sex if I hadn't fallen unconscious?" Jim questions cheekily, knowing that he has Spock when the tips of the Vulcan's ears turn green. "You sly dog! You didn't want the Romulan or Bones to take advantage of me because you wanted to do it yourself!"

"Captain, that is not logical," Spock replies.

He does not say that Jim is wrong.

"Were you jealous?" Jim asks, reaching a hand out to grab Spock's wrist and pull him onto the bed – on top of Jim.

"…Yes," Spock admits.

"I'm glad that I passed out on you last night," Jim tells him softly, caressing a warm cheek.

"Maybe I ask why, Captain?" Spock questions with a small frown.

Jim smirks sexily and flips them so he is on top.

"I want to remember the first time you fuck me," he whispers lowly, leaning down to bring his lips a breath away from those of his First Officer. "And call me Jim."

And then Jim seals their lips together.

It is the start of a beautiful relationship.

Thank Starfleet for Romulan drugs and Vulcan possessiveness.