I rather like this one! Tipsy!Jim is fun to do :)

The whole time I wrote this I listened to the X-Men: First Class Apocalypse soundtrack and I loved it. Ugh. Music. 3

Tipsy

(adjective) slightly drunk.

"Spock!" Jim hisses, swaying into the open space between them before straightening. "Spock!"

Spock slowly turns from his conversation with Nyota and raises an expectant brow at Jim. "Yes, Captain?"

"How do you do that?" he asks in exasperation, reaching out and lightly touching the arch of his brow. Spock tenses beneath his touch, but otherwise doesn't move. "You and Bones are good at that. And the old one! Me, not so much." He tries to mimic the move and fails. "See! Can't do it."

"That is…fascinating, Captain." Spock leans back from his touch, watching his friend's finger as it moves to force an arch in his own brow. "Is that all that you required my attention for?"

"Um." Jim sucks on his lower lip, an action Spock has noticed indicates he is trying to figure out how to say something, instead of just blurting it out as he can be wont to do. "Well," he draws the word out and leans towards him, balancing precariously on the edge of the stool. "You see, I did have a question for you, but I think that I probably shouldn't."

Spock takes a moment to ponder that statement. "You think you should not have a question, or that you think you should not ask me the question?" He would prefer clarification, but judging by the way Jim continues to throw back cups of whiskey, he is under the assumption that would not be a possibility.

"Yes." Is Jim's nonsensical reply. He snickers when Spock does his sigh-that-isn't-a-sigh at his words, the noise turning into a faint protest when the man takes his nearly empty tumbler from him and sets it down out of his reach.

"It is time we return to the ship, Captain." Spock firmly announces, paying for their drinks before grabbing hold of Jim's forearm and guiding him off the stool and to the door.

"Aw Spock, if you're taking me home the least you can do is call me Jim." His grin is wicked, something that Spock ignores but for the faint blush he could not control.

"I do not think that would be wise, Captain." He utters faintly, pulling out his communicator and calling for transport home. Spock places his hand lightly on Jim's lower back so as to help direct him in the right direction, ignoring the looks that the action receives as he walks him down the corridors and to his room.

"What's it going to take to get you to call me Jim, huh?" He asks, a faint whine to his voice. "I like it when you call me Jim. Makes me feel good."

The blush is back and worse than before. "It is not professional, Captain, nor is it wise." Spock ushers him into his quarters and walks him to his bed. It is as he is trying to lay him down when he realizes how tipsy his Captain is.

"Spock," Jim sighs, gripping tightly at Spock's arms and pulling him down as well, smirking up at him when he traps him between his legs. "Doing what is wise is never fun. And calling me by name would be the best thing to do, don't you think? Then we could be unprofessional together, instead of alone."

The implications of his last sentence take a moment for Spock to grasp, trying as he is to release himself from Jim's grip without hurting him. When it does he stills, looking down at him in stunned disbelief. "Cap—"

Jim cuts him off. "Jim, Spock." He says forcefully. "It's Jim." He then cuts off anything else Spock might have found to say with a deep kiss, one that stops Spock in his tracks and starts him off again in Jim's direction. As Jim licks his way into Spock's mouth, Spock is sure in his knowledge that by the end of the night, he will be calling him Jim—and that Jim will be his.

Let me know what you think? I love to hear from you!