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Spock looked at the human figure lying next to him. Still sleeping, Jim had his face half hidden in the pillow, hands holding onto a fold while the blanket covered the rest of his body. He was snoring louder than the warp drive at full power. Could it be considered illogical that Spock found the sight incredibly cute?
Placing a hand on Jim's head, he brushed the tangled curls aside and pressed a kiss to his warm forehead. The human flinched and blinked his eyes open. “Morning,” he croaked, his voice thin and raw. He turned his face fully into the pillow to let out a few rough coughs, before sniffling.
As Spock handed him a box of tissues, Jim pulled out two or three, rolled over to the other side and blew his nose. Spock wrapped his arms around his sturdy form and pulled him close until Jim's shoulder blades were touching his chest. Over Jim’s muscular shoulder, Spock saw Jim smile and drop the crumpled tissues.
“You're the only one who wants me in this state,” he rasped in a heavily congested voice.
“Surely your partners don’t mind?”
“Carol was okay with it, but the other one...”
“Which other one?”
“Does it matter?” Jim turned, wrapping his arms around Spock's neck. “Fact is that I feel most comfortable with you.”
“Yes, because I – ”
“Because you're great,” Jim finished the sentence tentatively. He checked with a glance if it was okay, which it was, before burying his wet nose in the hollow between Spock's neck vertebrae and collarbone.
Spock was enjoying what humans called 'cuddling' until Jim barked against his shoulder with shaking force. Spock rubbed his cramped muscles. “Are you all right?”
Jim shook his head and made an effort to move. Spock helped him into a sitting position and held him under the armpits while Jim doubled over in a violent, terribly long coughing fit. He kept retching phlegm.
“Should I get McCoy?”
Jim shook his head, straightened his back and coughed in a controlled manner until his strength left him. Spock caught him with one arm as he slumped and reached for Jim's emergency bag with his free hand. Jim's coughing seemed to have intensified, if that was even possible. He was already wheezing.
Spock removed the gray cap, shook the spray and pressed it into Jim's hand. Shaking from weakness, Jim used it, first one dose, then a second, before taking deeper breaths. The cough gradually subsided – or at least became drier, less demanding.
Completely exhausted, Jim fell back against Spock, closing his eyes. His face was bright red, his lips only just regaining its pinkish color, tears, nasal secretions and sweat running down his face. And yet he was beautiful.
Spock hugged this beautiful human. Jim resisted. “I'm a mess,” he rasped breathlessly.
“No, Jim, you're okay.”
“I...” He coughed hideously into his hands. “I ruined our moment.”
“The moment isn't over yet.” Spock lay back, pulling Jim down with him. Jim had no choice but to rest his head on Spock's chest. Spock moved his hand over Jim’s hot neck and played with the tiny hairs, brushing them with his fingers.
Jim groaned. “How can you love someone like me?”
“You're wonderful, Jim.”
“I'm just a bug that's taken up residence in your bed.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Then you'd be a pretty big bug. Besides, I have nothing against insects.”
“Not even in your bed?”
“I have nothing against you in my bed,” Spock insisted. He leaned his head against him and ‘cuddled’ him. Jim smelled of sweat and sickness, but mostly of the person he loved.
“You're pretty convincing,” Jim breathed.
“Logical.” Spock went down further and kissed Jim on the tip of his nose. Jim's nose twitched and he sneezed. Spray hit Spock on the face and further down.
Jim sniffled. “Sorry.”
Spock replied with a kiss on his wet cheek.
“Alright, okay,” Jim breathed, “I get it that you love me even in this state.”
“I love you always, Th'y'la.” Spock kissed Jim's neck. The skin beneath his lips vibrated as Jim shuddered. Spock continued tenderly…
…Until Jim put a hand under his chin and made him face him. “May I?” he asked softly, hesitation. Spock gave his silent consent. Jim moved forward, kissing him on the mouth. Their lips found each other like two magnets that had always belonged to each other, yet they explored each other like two alien entities. Full of curiosity and respect. With the tingling excitement of a first contact. And far too brief to really learn anything about the other.
Jim broke away to cough against his shoulder. Spock didn't mind because it was Jim. Because he was near him, a living being, vulnerable and so damn human.
For a split second, Spock lost all control as he pressed his lips hard and passionately against Jim's to re-establish contact. Jim's breath was blowing fast and hot, and he was still coughing, but Spock took it all in. He tasted the bitter sickness, the sweet phlegm, and behind it, the smooth taste of Jim. He felt the unruly emotions, that raging maelstrom against which the strongest being was made powerless, that something that had always been there, hiding behind layers upon layers of mental disciplines.
Love. Inhuman love.
Spock pulled away abruptly as logic took control of his mind again. His cheeks burned and his breathing was going fast to catch up with his racing heart, doing somersaults in his chest. Although he'd had them a moment ago, now he didn't have the words to further describe the sensation inside him.
And it didn't help that those big, dark, space-mirroring eyes were looking at him with the same feverish passion. Jim put a hand to his cheek and smiled in a way that melted away everything around them. “You're going to get yourself sick,” Jim breathed, but it sounded amused at best.
“I guess I'll have to take that chance,” Spock breathed back, leaning his forehead against his, “because I don't want to leave your side anymore.”
“I think I gave you my fever.”
Spock didn't answer, but pressed Jim so close to him that there was barely a gap between them. After that, no one could tell who was snuggled up to whom.
A satisfying exhaustion washed over Spock, causing him to close his eyes.
Yes, perhaps he had caught it, too.
After all, he was only half-human, as the human in his arms kept reminding him.