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English
Series:
Part 1 of Hot Cocoa for the Vulcan Soul
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Published:
2014-09-13
Words:
582
Chapters:
1/1
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7
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132
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A Taste of Affection

Summary:

Spock is sick and McCoy decides to take care of the Vulcan. It turns out to be the perfect opportunity make Spock some of his best hot cocoa.

(Sick!Ficlet Written for passioninprose <3)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

"How can just sittin’ there not be boring for ya’?" McCoy drawled as he entered the living room, a steaming cup of hot chocolate in each hand. Spock sat on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, his entirety wrapped up tightly in a thin blanket as he meditated. Or slept. McCoy had been in the kitchen so long, he wouldn't be surprised if the Vulcan took a catnap. "Here."

"I trust that the beverage you have contains no sugar, doctor?" Spock commented, not even opening his eyes. A small cough escaped his throat, his brows furrowing together has he attempted to suppress a second one.

"Leonard," McCoy grumbled. "We’re not on the ship, Spock. You can call me Leonard." He guided the handle of the mug of hot chocolate to Spock’s fingers that appeared from under the blanket. "It's hot, so be careful. And what, you think getting you sugar-buzzed is going to help you get better? I’m a doctor, Spock. I may just recently be learnin’ more about you, but know what you can and can’t have, for the most part," He stated, the last bit under his breath. He carefully sat down on the couch next to Spock, blowing at the cocoa's surface to cool it down before taking a sip. 

Mimicking McCoy, Spock blew the steam from his own drink and eyed it carefully, even taking a moment to inhale its fragrance before finally taking a sip of his own.

"How’dya like it?" McCoy asked cooly, attempting to hide his anticipation. The Vulcan had never had hot cocoa before, from what McCoy understood, so he took extra time to make sure Spock's first taste of it would be the best he could muster.

Spock took another carefully measured sip before answering. “The taste is pleasant, Leonard.”

McCoy couldn’t help but grin at the compliment, which was quite the compliment when coming from Spock. “Scooch over.” He said, moving to the cushion beside the Vulcan and pulling the corner of a thick blanket from the back of the couch.

"I am as far moved on this end of the couch as comfortably possible," Spock commented, carefully holding his drink up so it would not spill as the cushions bounced with both the doctor's movement and the Vulcan's unsuccessfully stifled coughs.

"Yeah, well you’re sick and that lil’ blanket you got there is not gonna do much for ya’," McCoy affirmed as he took the thicker blanket with his left hand, shaking it out and flapping it to release the folds. One last large flap caused him to spill a bit of his drink on his opposite hand and wince slightly at the hot liquid before quickly but carefully bringing his hand to his lips. " 'M fine." He mumbled at Spock's glance. Switching hands, McCoy pulled the fuller blanket to cover both Spock’s and his own legs, which sat crossed in front of him on the cushion. He moved so his side touched Spock’s own, the difference in temperate noticeable, even through their layer of clothing. Spock merely looked on without protest as McCoy wrapped his arm around Spock’s shoulder. "There. You should be able to get warmer now." McCoy smiled, the flush on his face deceiving the cool in his voice.

Spock carefully considered the man’s actions, and leaned in closer to the welcome warmth. He reached up and gently took the doctor's hand, carefully brushing his lips near the slightly flushed patch of skin. “Thank you, Leonard.”

Notes:

Heyo! First off, thank you for reading! I wrote this fic in 2013, and in Feb of 2017 I wrote another, similar fic that is a sequel to this one! You can find it here "My Gift, To You"

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