So this is my first time writing a Star Trek fanfic and hopefully it isn't a complete failure... I'm also testing out a new style of writing for myself(: I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it. As always, feedback is greatly encouraged and appreciated(:
It felt like his head was on fire, a white pain shooting through his brain. He had the continuous urge to throw up but didn't have the strength to even realize if he was awake or asleep. A dream, (or was it a dream?) clouded his mind and made the pain even worse when he tried to remember. There were flashes of multicolored lights, the feeling of someone's hand curling aggressively through his hair, the smell of... Was that pie? It really smelt like pie... There were also flashes of the crew, particularly Spock. Spock's lips - this doesn't seem right - all over Jim. And the crew. Were they... drinking? What was that warm pressure against his back? Jim was falling. Down down down down... Wait. Or was it up? Can you fall up? Maybe over. Definitely over the edge of something... But what?
That's when his head hit the floor, the sheets of a bed he didn't remember being in went over the edge with him, tangled with his legs. Where thehell was he? He heard a groan of pain from beneath him and opened his bloodshot eyes to find that he had fallen on top of McCoy. He almost didn't recognize him though. He wasn't in his starfleet uniform, he was in neon green boxer shorts and he was shirtless except for the multicolored paint spanning over his whole chest. And his hair -
"Holy shit!" Jim yelled in the doctor's face, who clearly didn't look to happy about it. Well, McCoy never looked too happy about anything involving Jim so the expression wasn't new.
"What?! Why the hell are you laying on me-" McCoy stopped suddenly to suck in a large and annoyed breath and Jim could have sworn he saw smoke coming out his ears. "Get off!" Although Jim usually just ignored McCoy half the time, he decided to roll off the man as fast as possible because damn did he look about ready to blow. But in doing so, Jim simply rolled into someone else, this time glad it wasn't someone who wanted his head on a stake. Metaphorically of course.
"Keptin? Ahh, goodmornin'?" Chekov's voice was hoarse and a lot harder to understand than usual. He was still in his starfleet uniform but his curly hair now looked like a bird's nest. And was that... Was that alcohol on his breath? Who let the seventeen year old have alcohol? Probably himself actually... Or maybe-
"DAMMIT JIM!" Jim practically had a heart attack and was contemplating using the young pilot as a human shield as he turned around to find McCoy staring into a mirror horrorstruck, his face definitely red now when he turned to Jim for an explanation. Yes, his hair was bleached. Jim tried really hard not to laugh and was searching his aching mind for a quick joke when he noticed Spock laying on the bed that he'd just fallen off of, his arms outstretched as if they were-No. No no no no no no no no, they couldn't have - Spock sure wouldn't- that would be 'illogical' - right? This was horrible, horrible timing if there ever was any... While Jim was in the middle of having a nervous-breakdown-slash-panicattack, he felt a hand on his shoulder and knew who it was before she even started to yell at him.
"Captain, you better have a good explanation for this or so help me-"
"Just - just a.. Wait a second, okay? Seriously, what did I do this time?" Jim slurred the words as he stared up innocently at Uhura who looked like she was seconds away from punching him in the face. It didn't help that her and Spock had just recently broke up and - Why the hell was Spock in his bed? Well not his bed, but a bed that he was in, for the night. With Spock.
"You too, huh?" She jutted her chin out and puffed an aggravated breath, her hands resting on her hips. Jim was about to find his voice again and try asking what she meant by that, but her attention was now focused on pulling Chekov off the floor, the kid wavering against her side, pupils blown drastically and definitely bloodshot.
"Zank you." He said simply, reaching up to rub his eyes. Jim frowned apologetically as Chekov's face turned a sickly shade of green and Uhura had to rush him to the bathroom, followed by sounds Jim wished he didn't hear. McCoy was still pacing frantically around the small quarters they seemed to be in, almost tripping over Sulu, who was lying on his side wearing a party hat, a stuffed Enterprise hugged to his chest. Jim would have laughed and drew a mustache on his face while he was still passed out, but he was too scatterbrained about Spock at the moment. He sighed and lifted himself off the floor, thanking whoever was around to care that he still had clothes on, well sort of anyway. He was in plaid sweatpants that clearly didn't belong to him according to the way they hung low on his hips, and a tight black undershirt that hugged his stomach. Well, it wasn't that bad... But damn he was sore, his knees wobbling underneath him, which couldn't possibly mean - Jim checked the last aspect, holding his breath as he stepped in front if the mirror to make sure he hadn't messed up his hair. Phew... But his lips. They were... Swollen? That's when Spock's eyes blinked open and he gracefully sat up in one swift movement, ears and cheeks turning a light shade of green. Holy shit. He's blushing! Spock disregarded the awestruck look on his Captain's face and opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he looked down to find that he was only wearing blue boxer shorts and his black, long-sleeved, undershirt. His face may be unreadable of emotion, but Jim could see the confusion in his eyes. It wasn't much, but it was definitely there. But better than that, Spock was in his friggin' boxers. Now that's something you don't see everyday...
"Captain." He said as a greeting like always, except his voice sort of hitched up at the end and sounded more like a question. Jim knew Spock would be embarrassed of that. He was trying to avoid this conversation but he found himself walking over to sit down next to Spock anyway, just as Sulu finally woke up and sprung up from the ground like a damn ninja because of the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Oh..." He said quietly when he saw the crew staring back at him wearily. "What...? Where-"
"No one knows apparently." Uhura shouted in annoyance from the bathroom, followed by Chekov throwing his guts up. Sulu winced when Chekov's gagging got louder and then his eyes widened drastically.
"Wait, if we're all here together-"
"Not exactly, we haven't seen Scotty yet." Jim said from the bed and Spock stared at the wall of the other side of the room like it held the secrets to the universe, eyes starting to squint in concentration. Jim didn't realize he was staring until Spock turned his head to him and cocked his head to the side like an adorable confused puppy genius. Wait... What? After a few moments Sulu decided to go look for Scotty, Jim offered help but he refused it, saying he was a big boy and couldfind his way around with no problem. Jim simply scoffed but decided to stay back so that he could talk to Spock, who for some reason, hasn't had any say whatsoever in the matter. That was unlike him, usually Jim couldn't get him to shut the hell up.
"So uh, Spock... I-" Jim was cut off by the sudden lurch of his stomach and he practically tripped over himself, knocking into a still very annoyed McCoy and pushing Uhura and a green Chekov out of the way before... Well no one in their right mind would want the details of that.
"So that's three of us who are hungover... Who else?" Uhura asked sadly as Chekov slumped against her, eyes slightly watering and lips in a permanent frown that just looked out of place on the usually chipper seventeen year old.
"I think it's safe to say everyone, Uhura." Mccoy piped up from the other side of the room. After gagging out his insides for what felt like forever, Jim groaned in annoyance and stuffed a towel in his face before bending over and clutching his stomach, forehead resting against his knees. Damn he must look pathetic, but if he lifted his head he would probably start throwing up all over Uhura and he didn't want to deal with her wrath at the moment. No one did. So clearly, he had a reason to continue feeling like shit. Suddenly Jim felt a firm hand on his shoulder and he was about to thank Uhura and tell her it wasn't necessary, that he was fine, but when he carefully lifted his head up he was surprised to see that it was actually Spock. At the same time, Chekov straightened and dismissed himself to go clean up. Where he was going was a mystery, no one actually knew where they were yet and he had already been in the bathroom. He was probably just embarrassed and going to find Sulu, Jim didn't blame him. Spock stared down at him almost apologetically for a while with a hint of something else hidden away in his eyes that Jim couldn't exactly put a finger on just yet. He helped him to his feet and as much a Jim hated it, he allowed him to just as McCoy came running over to him with a murderous look on he face.
"Ah hell..." Jim, wanting more than ever to stay clear of the doctor's fury, took this opportunity to hide behind Spock. Which of course looked really extremely very childish to everyone else in the room, but for the first time he really didn't care. Spock surely did.
"James. Tiberius. Kirk. Get your ass over here so I can help with that damn hangover." Well, he wasn't expecting that, but that also meant... Hypo.
"Do I have to?" Jim was fully aware that he was whining and he heard Uhura chuckle from beside him as he hung his head in defeat and walked around a stiff Spock so that Bones could stab him in the neck with a hypo.
"Jesus!" Yeah, he was never getting used to that... McCoy still looked hilarious though and Jim couldn't stop the laugh from leaving his lips before throwing the poor man a shirt that someone, who knows who, left behind on the floor. McCoy looked at it unimpressed for a moment, it was almost as colorful as his chest was, but he decided to put it on anyway. Jim's horrible headache started to fade as he walked past everyone and sat back down on the bed, trying really hard to figure out what the hell happened last night and where his damn ship was-
"Holy shit... WHERE'S THE ENTERPRISE?!" He shouted out loud at everyone just as a very hungover, very green, Scotty ran in the room, waving drastically at his captain.
"She's fine, she's fine!" Jim found himself relaxing back into his seat on the bed, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair and watching tentatively as Spock was walking around the room curiosity, probably searching for his pants.
"Okay... Well, WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!" He really didn't mean to yell, but Scotty didn't take it personal at all, instead he just looked apologetic and as lost as everyone else, yelping in pain when the doctor stabbed him with a hypo. Sulu had ran into the room right after him with Chekov following in suite, and was now on his way over to Jim, smile spreading across his face.
"I figured out where we are. This is one of the unoccupied quarters of the starfleet academy, our ship is fine, we beamed down last night."Starfleet. Well that was a relief. But it still didn't explain why they beamed down last night and why they are all hungover as fuck.
"Yeah I don't know either," Sulu started, recognizing the expression on his captain's face, "but it looks to me that we sort of... Y'know...Partied?" Jim found himself laughing at that even though everyone else was just staring awkwardly and agreeing with Sulu. Well it was a good explanation, the room was completely trashed, the smell of alcohol everywhere, someone even decided to replicate colorful Earth streamers that were usually used during parties or big events. Not to mention the way all of them looked when they woke up, well in most cases, still looked.
"Okay okay, you're right. But... Why?"
"Captain, if I may?" Spock finally spoke up, his voice not even hoarse in the slightest, still as professional and emotionless as ever. And for some reason unknown to him, it made Jim mad.
"Sure sure." He said, looking over at his first officer and waiting as he nodded his head to the acknowledgement.
"It seems that we have all experienced a partial amnesia due to our over-quantified intake of alcohol-"
"Yeah Spock, tell us something we don't know." Jim threw his first officer a smirk and Spock looked sideways before looking back to him, so close to accomplishing that eye roll, just not quite there yet.
"Well captain, seeing as how I, myself, am included in this strange mishap, I also suffer from the partial amnesia, therefore I cannot give a proper explanation as to what went on-"
"Jesus, Spock... Just - how about you explain what you think happened." Jim said, now standing up from the bed and walking over to Spock, fully accounting for the slim memories of those lips on his skin and - okay, too far. It could have honestly just been his drunken mind's imagination. Its happened before. Not like that - the dream has -stop thinking Jim. There was no way he would have - No way Spock would have -
"Well there isn't much to be explainin', captain." Scotty piped up, still rubbing his neck where Mccoy had stabbed him with a hypo.
"Thinking we could drink all night, for whatever the reason, and keep completely sober, is like supposing we're rich but ain't acting as the rich do." Jim rolled his eyes and turned to his best friend, who he no longer could take seriously with his hair like that.
"Seriously, enough with the metaphors, Bones. That's an order."
"Captain... McCoy seems to have a point-"
"Don't be agreein' with me you pointy eared bastard, it's discomforting. But seriously Jim, drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness." Jim thought that last one through for awhile and slowly walked back over to lean against the bed when one of his random thoughts came rushing back into his mind and he really needed to know if it was -
"Hey, did we have pie?" Everyone started laughing now, even Chekov, who seemed to be getting his proper skin tone back after McCoy shot him with the hypo. After a short discussion and some snooping around the trashed room they came to the conclusion that Jim was insane. Sadly, there was no pie to be found. But Spock did find his clothes. In the closet. A bunch of inappropriate ideas came rushing into Jim's mind before he could stop them and he found himself blushing deeply as Spock pulled his pants on and his science uniform back over his head. It was a miracle he could accomplish that without the fabric getting stuck on his ears.
To figure out more about the events of last night, the crew decided to split up. Which Jim was happy to apply a joke about them acting like the ancient kid's show called 'Scooby Doo'. To which of course no one understand because apparently Jim was the only one who looked into Earth's ancient media. Oh well. Sulu and Chekov decided to go along with Scotty to engineering, Scotty had some friends there who he could ask a few things that might spark their memories. It was worth a try at least. If they were as drunk as they seem to be and trashed their room as much as this, someone ought to know about it. There was really no other meaning to this except curiosity, so they shouldn't stay long. What they need to do is get back to the Enterprise -
"Captain, a word." That was Spock. Jim blinked and dragged himself out of his thoughts to find that they were the only two left in the room. Shit.Apparently Uhura and McCoy had gone down to sickbay. Spock was standing to the side of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He had said earlier that he also had the partial amnesia, but if he was hungover now, he sure didn't look like it.
"Yeah, sure. What's up?" Jim asked casually, trying to push away the weird thoughts from his mind and focus on what Spock was going to say. That didn't help much because now he was staring at his lips...
"I..." Spock paused as if he were trying to search for the right words to use next, which was extremely unlike him, Vulcans never hesitate, they always go through with their thought fully - "I may have withheld some valuable information about the activities of last night." Oh god, he knew! He knew what happened and he didn't mention it around everyone else because... Because he wasembarrassed? What the hell did they do last night to make him so - oh god oh god oh god oh god please no... Not that he didn't want that, he'd just appreciate it more if he could, y'know, rememberit.
"Okay, so... Tell me what happened, Spock. I promise, I won't tell the crew if that's what you're worried about. But if you remember and it involves me. I kinda want to know about it." He didn'tkinda want to know, he really wanted to know to the point where he thought he might explode. Spock was extremely still and guarded for an agonizingly long time before walking closer to Jim, his expression softening and eyes looking... More human.
"I - it's quite personal." Okay, Spock neverstutters, let alone miss a beat when over-explaining every flaw that Jim has. What was up with him?
"Just say it Spock." Jim pushed on, walking even closer to the Vulcan whose ears were starting to turn that beautiful shade of green again. Wait - what?
"Jim I see it unwise to -"
"Don't start with me on unwise -"
"We have more urgent matters at hand -"
"You're the one who wanted 'a word' pointy -!"
"Is that supposed to be a form of -"
"Oh, drop it Spock and just tell me dammit -!"
Jim stopped suddenly when he noticed how close they were standing now, his nose almost touching Spock's, breathing in his exhale as his hand subconsciously curled into a fist, keeping him from doing what exactly? Spock's breathing seemed hitched, another off thing about him, Vulcans were able to control their pulse... Either he was emotionally compromised or -
"Tell me." Jim said so softly that he could barely hear himself, but he knew Spock could hear him as he saw the obvious change in the Vulcan's composure. Spock opened his mouth to reply, or so Jim thought, but immediately the air around him was sucked away and he found himself being thrown into the wall, awaiting the final blow or the strong fingers to coil around his throat once again. But it didn't come. Instead, Jim found Spock attacking his lips feverishly, hands pinning Jim's hips to the wall and making him cry out in pain when he hit the spot that was already bruised from - oh. Everything came rushing back so quickly that it felt like a rock smashing against his brain. The party, the drinks, the bleaching of the hair, Spock, his dark eyes, his lips, his hot breath against Jim's shoulder, his - oh god, Spock.
"I'm sorry." Jim didn't exactly know what he was apologizing for, probably for forgetting. But either way it just made Spock kiss him harder, lips trailing down to his neck where - oh... How had he not noticed that bruise there before. That would have been like, the quickest giveaway. He'd very rarely ever thought of his first officer in this way... Ever. Well that was more than partly a lie, but he never thought of actually, y'know, disclosing his feelings. He wasn't the oddly fitting piece in this widely messed up puzzle though. Spock was. Spock shouldn't be letting his emotions take control of him like he was now. Jim didn't exactly stand for logic but he was pretty damn sure this was far from it. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of Spock's lips tracing over his jawline, he decided that he cared too much for his friend to let him do this to himself. Jim tried pushing against Spock's chest in an attempt to detach the guy from him, but it was true that Vulcans were a lot stronger than they let off to be. Much stronger than humans at that. Which would explain a few things -
"Spock - Spock stop." Soon enough, after one more push, Spock came to his senses and pulled away. Backing up a few steps and sill panting, pupils blown to hell and looking so friggin' human at the moment. And beautiful. God dammit, stop thinking Jim, just stop. Jim didn't know what to say as he slumped against the wall, catching his breath and reaching up to touch his extremely swollen lips.
"So... Last night, huh?" He tried to sound nonchalant and failed miserably, fake smirk fading as fast as it appeared when Spock's eyes seemed to darken sadly. Of course, that wouldn't be logical. Being 'sad' is another emotion that Spock repressed. But even if it was the slightest bit noticeable, Jim could always see it in his eyes. Emotion was always there, Spock just kept it buried. Sometimes it was buried so deep that Jim could swear it wasn't there at all. But moments like these, watching Spock lose control and... Open up, always seemed to prove Jim wrong.
"Not- not precisely what you're thinking, captain." This was definitely the wrong time to forget that Spock was indeed a touch-telepath. Jim found himself blushing scarlet, trying to look at anything that wasn't Spock's face.
"Even as intoxicated as you were, you did have the decency to... Wait." Jim really didn't want to know what was coming next. Wait a second... 'Wait'? Did Spock mean - dammit, Spock meant - so they didn't, did they? No they didn't, they couldn't have, Spock just clearly stated that. But... But did he want that? It sure as hell seemed like it. Did Jim? Well, DUH. He just wanted to make sure he - that he most definitely - remembered. Jim thought it through for a second and found himself smiling, the Vulcan across from him looking oddly confused at his sudden change of attitude.
"So uh, while the crew is out trying to put together their own stories... You mind if we, maybe, finish our own?" Jim asked slyly, feeling more like himself as a smirk played along his lips. Spock seemed to understand immediately and his eyes brightened in a way that Jim could tell he was smiling without the Vulcan actually lifting the corners of his lips.
"Of course, Jim."
