Title: When The Time Is Right.
Rating: T, for language, slash, and sexual references.
Description: Spock goes to check on the captain, and finds a vulnerable, drunk man. Will he use the opportunity to act on his feelings, or wait until the time is right? One-shot. K/S
Word Count: 842
Spock habitually smoothed back his already impeccable hair before knocking on the door of his captain's hotel room. He had decided to check on Jim, because they had been here on Risa for three days, and the captain hadn't been seen since they checked in the hotel. Spock was especially worried, he had secretly grown to care for the captain much, much more than he should.
Nobody answered the door, so Spock cautiously turned the knob and pushed it open.
"Captain?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust, his dark eyes traveling over the general layer of filth that had accumulated on the floor. There were beer bottles, pizza boxes, candy wrappers, and the occasional sock. It looked like the captain's quarters on the Enterprise. Spock stepped in the room, and almost gagged at the smell. He then saw Jim, who was sprawled on floor, lazily rolling a bottle of vodka back and forth in his fingers. Spock, although he would never tell this to a soul, found him extremely attractive even in this state.
"How many times have I told you, Spock, call me Jim." he slurred, slowly sitting up. Spock flicked the light on, and Jim scrunched his eyes shut. "Can you turn the god damn light off?" Spock ignored him, and maneuvered his way through the mess over to the captain. He wrapped his long and slender fingers around the younger man's wrists, and pulled him to his feet. Jim staggered for a moment, and sat down again. Spock sighed. This was proving more difficult than he had originally assumed it would be. He chose to clear a space next to Jim and gracefully plopped down beside him.
"Ca-Jim, why have you kept yourself alone up here in such utter filth?" Jim gave a little hiccup, and took another swig of vodka. He wiped the corner of his mouth.
"Because. Mr. Spock, I am conducting an experiment. If I can stay filthy drunk for all of shore leave, will I forget about everything that bothers me and all my problems? I mean, I'm sick of pointless sex with people who could give me every STD in the whole fucking universe, can I block it all out until it's time to go back to real life?" He stood up unsteadily, his voice rising, "Because you know what? It's not even good sex! It's not worth the STDs! It's sloppy, dirty sex with girls and boys who are so drunk off their asses they can't remember their own names!" Spock's heart was aching, and he just wanted to sit there for a while, but he got up and put an arm around Jim, who was breathing heavily. The captain shook it off and ran to the bathroom, vomiting heavily into the toilet until his stomach was emptied. He curled up in a ball on the tiled floor. Spock followed him and wiped Jim's filthy hair out of his face. The drunk, sick man gazed up at him, his brilliant blue eyes unusually bright.
"And y'know who I can't get out of my head? Every time I'm fucking somebody, on the floor, on the bed, on the couch? You. I can't stop thinking of you. And it's driving me fucking crazy." Spock's own heart was racing. He wasn't sure if this was a product of the copious amount of alcohol in Kirk's system, or if it was really true, but he was not going to take advantage of Jim's feelings at the moment. Jim was Spock's captain first, and it was his duty as first officer to care for him. He lifted Jim to a sitting position in his lap. The captain was shaking.
"Jim," he whispered, "I'm going to get you cleaned up, and then you can sleep. Is that alright?" Jim nodded. It all went well after that. Spock managed to get the captain undressed, pushing all sexual thoughts to the back of his brain, and got him in to shower, scrubbing away the vomit and smell of alcohol. He got Jim in a clean pair of pajamas, changed the sheets with ones supplied in the room, and tucked him in like a small child. When he turned the light off and opened the door to leave, Jim's slightly muffled voice carried across the room to him.
"Please don't leave me." Spock cast his gaze at the floor, and with a small, compliant smile, turned around, slowly closing the door. "Of course not." He slipped off his shoes and slid under the blankets. Jim snuggled closer to him, the curve of his back fitting into Spock's stomach perfectly. Spock wrapped an arm around his middle. It was like two puzzle pieces made for each other. When Spock felt the younger man's muscles relax, and heard his breathing slip into the slow pattern of sleep, he let his mind drift, eventually falling asleep himself. For once in his life, he was perfectly content. He didn't know what would happen in the morning, but he was wiling to wait until the time was right to act on his true feelings.
So, I loved writing this, but I am a little out of practice with Spirk. I literally have had no inspiration for the past, what, five months, but it is good to be back. :)