Jim is sitting at his desk, scrolling through a report on a PADD when Spock slouches over him, his arms on Jim's shoulders and his chin on the top of his head. Jim's eyebrows fly up in surprise. If he didn't recognize the lithe, green-tinted fingers currently kneading the front of his shirt, he wouldn't guess it was Spock. Hell, he'd even guess Sulu's handsy ivy plant before the half-Vulcan. But here he is, rubbing his cheek on the top of Jim's head and crumpling the front of his gold uniform shirt.
"Spock?" Jim asks incredulously as he puts the PADD on the desk.
"Hmm, yes Jim?" His voice is low and relaxed.
"Not that I, uh, don't like what you're doing, but… what are you doing?"
He leans over, causing Jim to bend forward as well. Spock's chest is pressed against his back and he wraps his arms around him. "I have this sudden urge."
Spock takes a deep breath and when he exhales, Jim feels Spock's chest rumble and his nose nuzzle into his hair. "You smell splendid."
"Uh, thanks," he says bewildered. "But I think it's just the regulation shampoo."
"No, it must be you." He sniffs. "The smell of Jim."
He smirks. "Are you okay, Spock?"
"Why, yes I am. Thank you for asking," he says pleasantly.
Jim feels the arms around him grip tighter and he is lifted easily out of the chair by amazing Vulcan strength. He gives a small, strangled noise in shock before he feels his feet touch the ground. Spock rubs his cheek against his and heaves a heavy sigh.
A smell creeps into Jim's nose and he sniffs. It takes him a moment to place it.
This isn't the first time Jim has seen Spock drunk, or at the very least tipsy. Those other times had been in public during diplomatic parties. Although he had a noticeable green flush and his speech was a little slower than normal, he managed to keep himself aloof enough that you really wouldn't notice his state at a glance. Jim just sort of always assumed that's what Spock was like drunk. Nothing too crazy or exciting. His inhibitions still intact.
He has no idea what Spock ate or drank that had chocolate in it, but either it had a lot in it or he ate a lot of it.
"You're drunk, aren't you?" Jim asked, amused.
He merely responds with an affirmative hum, which rumbles against his back and sounds suspiciously like…
"Spock! Are you purring?"
He nuzzles against the join of his neck and shoulder. "I… I believe so."
He begins to press against Jim's sides, which causes Jim to jump. He stifles a belly laugh and attempts to fold himself into a defensive position to stop the fingers from tickling him, but Spock's hold keeps him from being able to bend over. He brings his legs up to his chest instead and Spock is now holding him up in the air. "St- st- sto- -op!" Jim tries to say through his laughter.
"I fail to see what is so amusing," he says, although it sounds as though he is also on the verge of laughing.
Jim can't even laugh anymore, all air having left his lungs. His manly dignity is also pretty much depleted from being so easily incapacitated by tickling. He didn't even know he was ticklish. "Sp- Sp- sto-!"
The fingers still and Jim takes his first full breath in nearly a minute. Which is forced quickly from his lungs when he is suddenly turned and dropped onto his back on the bed and Spock crawls on top of him. He hadn't even noticed when Spock walked over here.
He pulls Jim's shirts over his head, then leans down and nuzzles his neck right under his chin. "Jim," he pretty much literally purrs. Roaming hands gently knead his muscled stomach with his warm fingertips.
As Jim watches him with enthrallment, he begins to feel a strange buzzing in the back of his mind, which he identifies as Spock's inebriation coming through his touch telepathy. A large smile creeps onto his face and he brings a hand up to stroke the silky black hair on the back of the head tucked under his chin.
Spock's movements slow and the purring that had lessened increases. He wraps his arms around him and flips them over. Jim quickly arches himself back, afraid that he might smother the tipsy Vulcan, who flips them over again and straddles his hips. He strips himself of his own shirts and nuzzles his neck for another moment before a rough tongue licks along his jaw. The tongue ministrations slowly move down his chest and belly until it reaches the hem of his pants.
When Spock begins to unbutton his trousers, Jim considers stopping him. He's not exactly in a clear state of mind and even if he seems aware, the rules of consent are a little shaky right now. Then again, they've been together for a while. It's not like this is the first time they're going to have sex, and Spock's not too stingy when it comes to allowing it.
It's the most agonizing and teasing fellatio he thinks he's ever received. Spock was more than enthusiastic, but it was the licking. The rough cat-like tongue felt amazing but that was all that he was doing and it was starting to drive Jim crazy. He was never a man described as patient, and after god-knows how long, he's had enough.
He brings him up and turns them over. He nibbles his neck as he palms the bulge in Spock's pants, causing him to gasp and arch up, pressing against him. These amazing little mews begin to leave his mouth and Jim can't help but smile against his neck. His amusement is short-lived when it only takes a few rubs before Spock suddenly shudders and collapses back onto the bed.
Jim stills, then pulls back in disbelief to find Spock fast asleep below him. He frowns for a moment before giving a resigned sigh. He climbs off him and goes to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth. He considers finishing himself off, but doesn't bother since his arousal has already started to go down.
He returns and strips himself and Spock our their pants and underwear. He gently cleans Spock up so he doesn't wake up uncomfortable (or at least less so, since Jim has the suspicion he won't be waking up at 100%). After pulling the covers out from under him, Jim lies beside him and covers them both up.
Spock scoots over and rests his head on Jim's shoulder and encourages him to wrap his arm around the hot body. Jim's irritation at being left unrelieved soon vanishes when he hears Spock begin to make a noise that sounds suspiciously like a combination of both a snore and a purr.
He smirks and goes to sleep deciding that it was totally worth it.
Jim awakens from movement in his arms and a low, pained groan.
"I do not recognize this sensation." Spock's raspy voice causes the computer to register that they are awake and turns the lights up to 60%. He gives a small whimper as he massages his temples.
Jim chuckles and raises himself up on an elbow to lean over him. He puts his other hand over Spock's eyes to block the light and the tightening in his mouth eases slightly in relief. "This is called a 'hangover', Spock."
He sees eyebrows rise above his hand. "Of course," he says in realization. "I did not think… My cognitive processes appear to be… less efficient in this state." He places his hand on top of the one shielding his eyes, though it is not to move it away. "Why would one willingly cause such a state?"
Jim kisses the hand on top of his own. "It's just an illogical human thing. I wouldn't try to think about it too much, even without a migraine. And you managed to put yourself into such a state."
"I assure you it was not… intentional. I believe."
"You don't remember what you ate?"
"I do. I was given a pastry by the Ambassador who implied he would be offended if I did not consume it."
He smirked. "Had a lot of chocolate on it, did it?"
Spock shook his head, which seemed to be a bad idea since Jim could feel him wince under his hand. "It did not; however, I was not aware that darker colored chocolate contained a higher percentage of chocolate liquor."
A grin split his face. "Your chocolate had a higher proof than you thought?"
He feels an eyebrow twitch. "Essentially."
He chuckles. "Lights at 15%." He takes his hand way from Spock's eyes, much to the Vulcan's displeasure if the other hand's reluctance to allow him to remove it is any indication. "I'm going to get you some water. You hungry?"
Spock seems to mull it over for a moment. "Water is acceptable."
Jim goes and replicates a glass of water (which he always thought was a little silly to do). When he returns, Spock is the picture of Vulcan misery. He is sitting but slouched down, his spine the most curved he thinks he's ever seen it. His face is scrunched and he is massaging his temples with great pressure. He accepts the water and downs the entire glass in one go.
"Hurts, huh?" He pets the back of his silky head.
Spock merely gives a small hum and leans back into the hand.
"Think a hangover hypo would help?"
He seems to consider it. Or he's just thinking slower. "I doubt it. The by-products of chocolate in my system would differ from that of ethanol." He glances at him through squinted eyes, taking in his lack of dress. "I assume last night was… satisfactory," he says.
Jim hesitates. "Of course."
Spock gives a minute nod. His state seems prevent him from noticing the poorly concealed lie.
"I was actually a little hesitant to do it."
"Were you?" he asked, although he does not sound all that interested. "Why did you agree then?"
"Well, you were very insistent."
Spock looks at him horrified. Or as horrified as the marginal widening of his eyes and the twitch of his eyebrow can convey. "Did I force–?"
"What?" he said, a little bit louder than he meant to and the Vulcan winced. Jim moves his hand in tiny circles on the back of his head. "Sorry," whispers. "No, no. You didn't force me to do anything. Have you ever known me to refuse sex from you?"
His eyebrow twitches. "Not that I can recall."
"I didn't say 'no'. I'm sure if I did, you'd stop. We were alone and we didn't have duties, so there was probably a good chance we would have done it anyway."
He hesitates. "It is very likely."
"So don't worry about it. Sex kitten."
It earns him an exasperated and quizzical eyebrow, but the green blush makes Jim suspect Spock he knows what's he's talking about.
Author's note: Since I couldn't do a drunk!Spock in Illogical for Valentine's Day, I did this for you guys. Cheers!