Much Ado About Vulcan (A Spock Love Story) - COMPLETE

Teacher/Student Protocol

Hi again everyone!! Sorry for the long wait!

I know I promised a 6k word Chapter this time, but I think that it would be better split up into segments, as it contains 3 scenes. This is the first of those scenes. I hope that you enjoy, and please leave a review. 

(Spock finally finds out what a wank-biscuit is, so keep your eyes peeled for that!)

************************

The first thing that I noticed as my groggy mind began to grasp sense of its surroundings was the warmth. I was slightly too warm, the prickling of sweat on my forehead bringing me out of my deep sleep. I was lying on my back, my dark hair splayed out around my head like a halo, the light that was sneaking in through the gap in the curtains tickling my closed eyelids.

I was immensely comfortable, save for the dull throbbing ache that seemed to run through my limbs.

The second thing that I noticed was the heavy weight draped across my stomach.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I smothered a monstrous yawn as I glanced downwards at the mystery object lying on my torso.

It was a bare arm. Which was connected to a bare torso. Which was connected to the sleeping face of my Maths Professor, only inches from mine, his warm breath tickling my neck. Well that explained the temperature increase. Of course, how could I possibly forget the events of last night?

I shuffled slightly onto my side so I was facing him, our noses almost touching. His face looked different when he was sleeping, the stern lines that all too often lined it had smoothed out, so his perpetually grumpy face looked calm and serene. His always neat hair was sticking up in all directions, a black crown on top of his pale face. I couldn't help the small smile that crept up the side of my mouth as I took in every inch of him. His eyelashes were surprisingly long, thick and dark, almost brushing his cheeks when his eyes were closed. My eyes ran over the broad curve of his jawline, the soft line of his lips. He had a trio of freckles just above his left collarbone.

I stayed like that for an embarrassingly long time, trying to drink him in, surrounding myself with him. After a while, his eyelids fluttered open, and he jumped slightly in shock when he noticed how close I was too him, his brown eyes seeming flecked with gold in the morning light in the morning light. I snorted at his reaction, and he smiled, sitting up and running his hand through his tousled hair, so far from the exquisite immaculacy that he usually exuded that I nearly laughed. I pulled the covers up to my neck, rolling back onto my back and looking up at him, a smile on my face.

"How do you feel?"

His voice was throaty and low after the long night's sleep, and I rolled my eyes at the question. Of course, the first thing that he would want to know was how I was faring.

"Like I've just been run over by a truck." I replied jokingly, wincing at the slight ache between my thighs as I shuffled up slightly so that I was sitting next to him. The covers sliding down as I sat up, revealing the bare skin of my torso. I heard him take in a wincing breath as he took in the upper half of my body. I glanced down at myself, self-conscious, and was surprised to see that my torso was covered in the mauve of angry bruises.

Ah.

It wasn't that I didn't hurt, not at all. There was an ache all over my body, almost like the day after a long run, but it certainly didn't match up to the Jackson Pollock painting of purple and red that covered my pale skin.

"Shit." He swore, raising his hand hesitantly to lightly trace over a particularly angry bite mark on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, Alex."

I swatted his hand away, rolling my eyes, "There's nothing to apologise for, Spock." I said, honestly, "I feel fine."