Chapter Text
Spock woke early that next morning and meditated until sunrise. Normally he would’ve left for work but he couldn’t leave Red alone in the apartment because the elevator required a finger-print or a passcode(and Spock didn’t want to give a stranger access to his apartment). Red woke up after nine, which was extremely late for Spock, but the Vulcan didn’t have the heart to wake the poor man. Red had expressed that he didn’t have a place to sleep so who knows how long it had been since he’d slept in a comfortable bed.
That just made Spock feel guilty for having all the privilege of being an ambassador’s son. He’d never known money troubles like Red did. Nor did he ever have to worry about not having a place to come home to. His worst case scenario was not making a home in San Francisco and returning to the VSA as a full-time scientist.
All of these thoughts spun endlessly in his mind as he prepared breakfast. Normally he would grab something light like a granola bar and a tea on his way to work, but for the sake of Red and his mother teaching him about manners, he wanted to do something different. He’d opted for eggs and hashbrowns with tomatoes and peppers from the farmer’s market. It smelled amazing to most, but Spock was not a breakfast person. Making food in the morning usually made him sick, hence why he ate very light. Even throughout the day he barely stopped working for lunch and then by dinner he usually ate in his office again. Okay it sounded sad but Spock didn’t mind spending his days in his office. It was fine. Definitely fine.
Spock turned away from the stove and gagged, not noticing the human standing there where the kitchen met the living room.
“Are you okay?” Red asked groggily and Spock just nodded.
“I am fine. Are you hungry? I am making breakfast.”
“Sounds good,” The human smiled sleepily, sitting down on one of the stools at the bar-like countertop, resting his head on his hands. “Thanks for letting me stay the night. We can still do something if you want,” He winked and Spock just stared at him oddly.
“We are doing something, having a conversation are we not?”
Red half-chuckled half-sighed, putting his head into his arms on the countertop. “You’re hopeless, Spock.”
Spock gave Red a half-hearted glare before setting down his plate of food. The look on the human’s face was absolutely worth it. His eyes widened comically and he looked like he was about to drool. Spock grabbed his own plate and sat next to him, chewing slowly. He was still trying to physically and mentally swallow the idea of eating a real breakfast. The last time he had a big breakfast was when he was accepted into the VSA two years ago and his mother celebrated with homemade pancakes. It helped when he shifted his focus to Red who was sighing softly, humming in a singsong fashion.
“I assume you are enjoying it?” Spock asked after a moment of taking in the scene. Although he himself didn’t eat, he enjoyed cooking for others, something he learned from his human mother. She often showed her love through food and he had developed this trait as well.
“Hell yes,” The human grinned, chuckling softly through a mouthful of food. “This is the best morning-after I’ve had yet. You are turning out to be my favorite client.”
Spock just hummed his assent, trying not to appear too pleased. It didn’t even occur to him that he had not talked with another person for this long since he left Vulcan. Usually he found conversation to be trying and unengaging but with Red…it was pleasantly refreshing. They talked for awhile until Spock checked the time and realized it was far too late, in which he practically shoved the human out the door who was laughing the whole time at Spock’s not-panicking.
And then Spock ordered a hovercab for Red, giving him money to take him anywhere and Red hugged him before the Vulcan knew what was happening.
“I thought chivalry was dead,” The human whispered before getting into the car with his bag. He waved through the window as the car drove away.
Spock found himself awkwardly waving back.
That was certainly an experience he would never forget, even if he never saw Red again.
Except he did see him again.
Three hours later.
Spock had, for the first time, decided to go out for lunch. He had found a nice little cafe just down the street that was quiet enough and housed various vegetarian options. Just to be safe, he brought his earbuds to listen to music to distract from any noise he couldn’t control. He ate his salad in peace next to the window and it was quite nice.
When he returned to the Embassy however, that was when the chaos began.
He walked into the lobby and could see a scene playing out(He’d kept the earbuds during the walk) and Spock definitely wanted to keep walking and slip away into his office. The main receptionist was telling someone off who was just arguing louder and security looked like they were going to get involved.
Wait but he knew that blond. He was dressed different, in worn-out jeans and an equally worn-out t-shirt. But it was still Red.
Spock took out his earbuds and placed them back in their case in his robe pocket.
“-my name is Jim Kirk, I need to speak with one of your interns!” Red was yelling.
“Sir, you need to leave right now,” The receptionist insisted, and the guards started to grab Red when the human spotted Spock across the lobby.
“Spock!” Red couldn’t have looked more relieved. Or Jim. Because that was his real name. Jim. It was so foreign and yet so right.
The Vulcan walked toward them and thankfully the guards ceased and the receptionist looked at Spock expectantly. “Sir, do you know this human?”
Re-Jim looked at him desperately and Spock nodded.
“Yes. Release him at once.” Security did as he asked and the receptionist seemed content with this answer, going on his way. Jim did not look happy. “Follow me, Jim , so we may talk in private.”
The human followed him silently into the elevator, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was glaring at Spock which was confusing because they had left on good terms.
They didn’t exchange a word, not even when they got out of the elevator, even when Spock greeted his receptionist and instructed her not to let anyone in his office.
Spock situated himself so he was leaning against his desk facing Jim, who was just stranding in the middle of this big open space with weird abstract art and a sitting area with a glass coffee table.
“An intern, huh?” Jim said bitterly. “Guess you lied about that too.”
“I do not understand why you are upset-” Spock started but the human cut him off.
“Oh I’ll tell you, you idiot-” Jim marched toward him, finger pointed accusingly. “You transfered 3,000 credits to my account!”
“Yes?”
Jim groaned, his hands squeezing the air in frustration. “I don’t need your charity! I work for my money and I don’t need some prissy Vulcan lending me money, so I’ve come to return it.”
Spock pretended not to be hurt by that statement, which was illogical considering he’d known R-Jim for a day.
“Take back your credits. Now.” Jim stood less than a foot away from him now, and yes he was intimidating. No, Spock was not shrinking back against the desk.
“No,” Spock said despite himself.
“No?”
“No.”
“Y-” Jim’s face turned red with anger. “You are the most stubborn client I’ve had yet! We didn’t even have sex or anything! I came to your house, ate your food, used your shower, slept in your bed--hell! You made me breakfast ! If anything, I owe you , so please ,” Jim wrung his hands uselessly. “Please take back your credits.”
“I will not,” Spock said after a moment. “The deal was that I pay for your time. You did not specify how that time was spent.”
It was stupid, obviously. And it sounded lame, but Jim was speechless.
“You won’t take back the credits will you,” The human said eventually, but he didn’t sound as mad. He seemed calmer, thank god. If the yelling continued, Spock might’ve just shut down.
Spock shook his head, No.
“Hm, fine. But I owe you nine more nights.”
Spock blinked dumbfoundedly. “No, Jim, that is not necessary-”
“Yes,” The human placed both of his hands on Spock’s biceps. “It is. My rate is $300 a night and you paid in advance ten times as much. Nine more to go, it’s simple math.”
Spock was having trouble focusing on something other than the warmth of Jim’s hands. Somehow he could feel it through his robe sleeves. “No, I will not take charity-”
“And neither will I. You get company and I get paid fairly.”
“I am not so pathetic to pay for friendship,” Spock sighed softly.
“That’s what most of my clients want anyway. Company. You just want it without the sex.”
The Vulcan considered this. “Fine. We have a deal.”
Jim smiled, taking a step back, and Spock tried not to frown when he removed his hands. They stood there in silence before Jim plopped down on one of the couches. “You knew I was a sex worker didn’t you?”
“I did.” The Vulcan couldn’t lie.
“Then why didn’t you-” Jim gestured vaguely, but they both knew what he was asking. Spock felt warmth rise in his cheeks. He looked down at the floor awkwardly.
“I am not attracted to people in that way. I have never felt arousal.”
“Oh,” Jim actually looked relieved. “You’re asexual.”
“I believe that is the term, yes.”
Jim couldn’t have smiled brighter.
He bounced up from the couch, practically skipping over to Spock and giving him a quick hug. “You and I are going to get along just fine.”