Len loves to cuddle, though that does surprise a lot of people. He sighs as Spock settles against him, and wraps his arm around, resting his hand on his shoulder. He's feeling a lot more sober now, but also warm and content, pleasantly comfortable. "Not bad," he purrs.
"Not bad?" Spock repeats, voice neutral. He runs that through his mental human filter, bemoaning the lack of accuracy in their words. "Such a phrase lacks clarity. I do believe humans aim for better than 'not bad' in reference to sexual intercourse."
Len snickered and turned onto his side to face Spock, then gave him a sweet, lingering kiss. "In this case, it means - fucking great, and you have my permission to fuck me again any time. Is that clear?"
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