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Above all else, Spock trusts Leonard. Their pursuit of a romantic relationship over the last few months has only deepened that trust. He knows that, despite their bickering, Leonard always has his best interests at heart. He knows Leonard knows him better than anyone else ever could.
And so, when Spock feels the unmistakable pinch of a hypo in his neck—when he feels the hot rush of medication through his blood—it isn't betrayal that he feels. Instead, he turns with confusion clear on his face, his fingers lifting to touch the now-tender point on his neck. “Leonard?”
“A mild sedative,” Leonard explains. He tucks the hypo back into his med kit and sets it on Spock's desk before looking up to catch his eye. “You'll start feeling sleepy in a second. A little floaty. Then there'll be some muscle weakness.”
Spock's lips part, but he can already feel the medicine taking effect. There's a buzzing in the back of his skull that's quickly enveloping the rest of his brain. “Why?”
Leonard cracks a smile. “You've been a little high-strung recently. I'm just helping you let go.”
“Vulcans do not get high-strung,” Spock manages. He means it to be scolding, but there's no bite to his words.
“Vulcans are always high strung. Especially this one.” Leonard pokes a finger into Spock's chest, and Spock is surprised when the light pressure is enough to make him sway backwards. “But don't worry, Spock. I'm gonna take care of you.”
“Take care of me,” Spock repeats, though there's a question in his tone. He does feel like he's floating—like his mind is disconnected from the rest of his body.
“Well, yeah,” Leonard snorts. “You didn't think I was just puttin’ you down for a nap, did you?”
Spock hums. Suddenly, that's all he can manage. Words feel too far away. Just out of his reach. His muscles are heavy, weighed down like stone.
Leonard steps closer and closes the distance between them. A hand reaches to cup the back of Spock's neck and lean him forward, until Leonard can press his lips against the pointed shell of Spock's ear.
“I'm gonna fuck you,” Leonard mutters, his breath hot, “and there's nothing you can do about it.”
Spock moans. The sound—the ease with which it slips out—surprises him. He tries to lift his own hand, to grab at Leonard’s hip, but he can't get it to move. Instead, his knees give out beneath him, and he crumples into Leonard's waiting arms.
“C'mon,” Leonard hums. “Let's get you to bed.”
Spock is just barely able to walk along as he’s half-dragged across the floor. Leonard lowers him onto the edge of the bed and steps away, smirking as Spock struggles to remain sitting upright.
“Just hold on a second,” Leonard orders. He bends down, picks up Spock’s foot, and gently removes his boot. Spock’s eyes cross as he tries to watch; Leonard’s shape blurs and warps in front of him. Spock feels the other boot being removed more than he sees it. The thunk as it lands on the floor echoes through his head. Then Leonard's hands are on him again, warm and solid, and Spock is lowered back against the mattress. His head rests on a stack of pillows and lolls to the side. His legs rest limply in front of him.
“Now, aren't you a pretty sight?” Leonard's lips quirk, but his words have a gentleness to them. Like he really does find Spock pretty like this, all laid out and useless. He reaches over and caresses his thumb across Spock's cheek, and Spock feels a quiet jolt of electricity at the touch.
Leonard's hand drifts slowly down Spock’s body: his shoulder, his chest, his stomach. Even through the fabric of his uniform, Spock could swear the contact is scalding. As Leonard reaches for his waistband, Spock lets out a low hum that vibrates through his bones.
“Eager, huh?” Leonard chuckles. The sound warms Spock's blood. In one strong, fluid motion, Leonard pulls Spock's pants and briefs down to his knees and clicks his tongue. “Damn. Even more eager than I thought.”
Spock's hips twitch of their own accord. Suspended in this state, all he has is sensation—and slowly, it dawns on him just what Leonard means. The gentle airflow of the room chills his damp thighs; through blurred vision, he can make out the green head of his half-erect lok. It occurs to him—some faraway thought that barely sticks—that the heat in his veins isn't a result of the medication after all: it's arousal.
“I haven't even touched you yet,” Leonard laughs. “And you're this worked up already? Not very Vulcan of you, is it?”
Spock's eyelids flutter. The words send something else shooting through him, as effective as another injection. Even half-conscious, Spock is all too aware of the way his lok twitches out a little farther.
“You love losing control, don't you?” Leonard reaches down and rubs his thumb against the bottom of Spock's erection. “How embarrassing. How pathetic.”
Spock's breath catches, then resumes with a resounding moan. A shudder runs through his body as his lok pushes out the rest of the way.
Leonard's hand pulls away, and the loss of stimulation bounces across Spock's nerves.
And then, for a long moment, there's nothing.
Spock feels himself begin to doze. His eyes close fully, and his mind detaches from his body. He's truly floating now, halfway between awake and asleep. Reality becomes indistinct.
The mattress shifts beneath him. Spock hardly notices.
A hand grabs at his hip. Blunt fingertips curl into his skin.
And then something thick and perfect pushes into him.
“Fuck,” Leonard hisses. “You were ready for me. Couldn't wait for me to fill you up, could you?”
It's a bright jolt back to awareness. His sheath stretches easily around Leonard's cock. It isn’t long before Leonard bottoms out. Before Spock is filled completely.
His mind buzzes. All he knows is the way pleasure dances under his skin.
“Look at you.” Leonard laughs, but it's breathy. “Look how easily you gave up control. And to a human, no less. I thought Vulcans were supposed to be stronger than this.”
He pulls out. Snaps his hips forward. Spock's back arches of its own accord.
“What would your daddy think, if he saw you like this?” Another slow pull out, another quick push in. “So clearly enjoying yourself. So easily taken.”
Spock manages to open his eyes, just for a moment. The sight of Leonard over him—the sight of his cock buried deep in him—is too much. Spock's head flops to the other side. His cheeks burn.
“You're supposed to be in control of your emotions, Spock.” Leonard begins to move faster, his thrusts becoming more rhythmic and consistent. “And here you are, moaning and wet and desperate. You're only half-awake and you can't get enough. What kind of Vulcan are you?”
Spock's head drops forward into his chest, his eyes crossing again. Every nerve is on fire. The rub of Leonard's cock against the walls of his sheath is blinding. His lips part in a shallow pant.
“Do you think you deserve this pleasure, Spock? Do you think you're worthy of it?” Leonard’s pace becomes relentless. Spock's head bounces uselessly against the pillows as Leonard pounds into him. “Fuck, you couldn't stop me if you wanted to. But you don't want to stop me, do you?”
Leonard wraps a hand around Spock's dripping lok. Immediately, it's almost too much. His body feels like it's on fire, like there's nothing to existence beyond blinding arousal.
“C'mon, Spock.” Leonard strokes him in time with his thrusts. “Come for me. Come like the pathetic Vulcan that you are. Come because I told you to.”
Spock's whole body spasms. His fingers twitch uselessly; his toes curl. His orgasm hits him like a wave, unfurling in his gut and dousing him in pure bliss and pleasure and heat. A loud moan echoes in his ears, and he's too far gone to even register the sound as his own. His lok pulses in Leonard's grasp, and come sprays across the fabric of his uniform shirt.
“Fuck,” Leonard hisses. He doesn't relent. If anything, he picks up speed and pounds into him harder. “Fuck, Spock. You should see yourself. See how much of a mess you are, and all for me. You're completely under my control, aren't you? I could do anything I wanted to you. I could make you come over and over ‘til you're coming dry, then fuck you some more. What do you think you'd look like, all used up like that? Do you think you'd look even more pitiful than you do now?”
Spock groans again. He's overstimulated in the best way. He feels raw and exposed. Each thrust of Leonard's hips, each drag of his cock, is walking the thin line of too much and just enough.
Leonard releases his hold on Spock's lok to grab at his hips with both hands. His last few thrusts are strong and forceful, but finally with a grunt he buries himself deep in Spock's sheath. Spock feels the hot burning of Leonard's come filling him from the inside, and his hips rock just slightly, like his body itself wants to work Leonard through it.
A long moment passes like that, with Leonard still deep inside Spock as he catches his breath. Spock's mind swims, his awareness slow and thick like molasses.
Finally, Leonard pulls out. Spock is sensitive now, but he's too far gone to have a reaction. He doesn't so much as blink as Leonard crawls across the bed and plops next to him, throwing an arm across Spock's chest.
This touch isn't like the others. This one is grounding. Anchoring.
“Leonard,” Spock slurs. It takes an incredible amount of effort. It's all he can manage. But somehow, it feels important.
“Shut up,” Leonard mumbles back. “You don't need to talk.” He hesitates. “You doin’ okay?”
Spock nods, though it's loose and uneven. He's more than okay, really. Even with his thoughts far away, he can tell both his body and mind are satisfied.
“Thought you'd like to let loose for a minute,” Leonard explains. Spock can't see his face, but he can hear the smile in his voice. “Sorry I didn't warn you. Thought it would take some of the fun out of it for you.”
Spock hums. He's so tired. But his muscles are singing, and his brain is blissfully quiet.
“Get some sleep,” Leonard sighs. “I promise I'll be here when you wake up.”
And above all else, Spock trusts Leonard.
And so he lets himself drift.