hinata15's Blog - Beauiful Vulcan
Beauiful Vulcan
Dec 10th 2017 @ 12:33 am
Chapter 1: Can You See the Vulcan From Here? Jim Kirk squinted through the unfamiliar windshield at the unfamiliar road signs. Surely this city wasn't so big that he couldn't find his way back to the hotel. And why did the GPS that came as standard equipment seem to think he was in Las Vegas? Were the satellites on the blink all at once? Sighing in defeat, he pulled to the side of the road, reaching for his cell phone to call for directions. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and lowered the tinted passenger side window. "You are lost," a Vulcan informed him. Jim studied the Vulcan as he did the same to Jim. "Good guess," Jim agreed. The Vulcan was probably not quite as young as he appeared, his long black hair caught in a braid. The points of his ears were barely visible through his thick black hair, his distinctive eyebrows hidden by his unusually long bangs. "Can you tell me how to get to the Beverly Hills Wiltshire?" "I will for 30 credits," the Vulcan responded, his arms resting on the opening of the window. "You can't charge for directions," Jim replied, half amused, half annoyed. "I may when you are the one who is incapable of returning to your desired location without my assistance," the Vulcan said. The Vulcan stood, eyeing the car Jim was driving. "As you can afford to drive a Ferrari, even a rented one, you can afford 30 credits for the information you require." "Fine," Jim agreed, reaching into the pocket of his tailored pants, "Fine." "I will guide you," the Vulcan said, slipping into the car and settling on the leather seat. "It is state law that you engage your seat belt." Jim stared at him wide-eyed for a few seconds before reaching back for his mostly ignored seat belt, buying directions, a safety lecture, and an unexpected passenger. This night was getting weirder by the second, "all right, directions?" "Credits?" the Vulcan said his long-fingered hand outstretched. Jim dropped the credit chip in his hand, staring at him as he waited. "Proceed to the third stoplight and turn east." "East," Jim repeated. "Left" Jim nodded, putting the car into gear and driving quickly and smoothly down to the third light. When it turned green, he turned left onto the one-way street lined with a single row of towering palm trees. Trees that looked slightly ridiculous and far too unnatural for his tastes. "You are aware that the local speed limit is 35," the Vulcan informed him, his voice calm despite the death grip he had on the door handle. Jim glanced at the speedometer that read 53 and eased off the gas. "No cops around." "That is no excuse to exceed the posted limits," the Vulcan said. "Fine," Jim agreed, looking over at the more relaxed Vulcan. "Do you have a name?" "Spock," he replied. "Do you?" "Jim." Spock nodded once, pointing ahead. "At the second light, you will turn north, right." Jim did it, periodically glancing over at his unexpected passenger. He couldn't fail to notice the sculpted cheekbones, the long neck, and the sleek body that would be even more sensuous if there were a few more pounds on him. The very tight black jeans and even tighter nearly-sleeveless black tee shirt left nothing to the imagination, which was clearly the intent. "I don't think I've ever met a Vulcan hooker before." Spock shrugged, staring straight ahead. "You’ve been in the business long?" "Long enough to know how to take care of myself, how to avoid answering impertinent questions" Jim laughed at his response, causing to Spock to look over at him, "You always so honest?" "It is a Vulcan trait," Spock admitted. "As you are not a sexual client, I see no reason to avoid answering your questions truthfully." "I see," Jim said. "Do you accept male and female clients?" "Yes, and those with no distinguishable gender characteristics" "If they aren't any particular gender, what do you do?" "What they ask of me. It is quite...fascinating," Spock said, pointing to the next stoplight. "Turn left here." Jim did it, following the next three rapidly delivered directions until they pulled up in front of the hotel. They left the low-slung car, Jim tossing the keys to the waiting valet. "How will you get back?" "Public transportation remains available," Spock informed him, turning to walk toward the main thoroughfare as the Ferrari roared down the drive. "It'll take you an hour to get back," Jim said, wondering why he cared. "53 minutes," Spock responded, Jim laughing at his precision. Jim closed the distance between them, guiding Spock into the deeper shadows. Spock simply watched Jim as the Human considered his next words. "How much for you to stay the night," Jim asked quietly, not breaking eye contact. "50 credits," Spock said. "You charge 30 credits for directions and 50 credits for the night?" Jim asked, clearly skeptical. "The time in which it took me to guide you here and to return may have taken away an opportunity to be hired. I did not charge you for the entire amount I might have missed," Spock explained reasonably. "Then if you stay the night, I only owe you 20 credits," Jim pointed out. Spock shook his head at that. "Sexual relations cost 50 credits." Jim sighed, looking Spock up and down once more. There was something tempting and alluring about this Vulcan. Jim couldn't explain it and he was frankly tired of spending the nights alone except for reruns of bad TV shows he never would watch except for the company they provided. "All right, 50 credits," Jim agreed turning toward the front door, certain Spock would follow. He stopped and looked over his shoulder to where Spock remained unmoving. "What?" "You do not intend for me to enter through the front door," Spock said, an implied question in his tone. "I do. No one will say anything to either of us." "It is...unseemly," Spock said stubbornly. "Are you worried about their reaction to me, or to you?" Jim asked his arms crossed over his chest. "Both," Spock said. "Even this hotel must have a less-traveled entrance." Jim shook his head but turned and went in the direction opposite of the front door. Rounding the side of the elegant building brought them to a heavy wooden door with a key reader next to it. After swiping his electronic key, Jim pulled open the unlatched door, waving Spock inside. Jim went left to the two discreet elevators, punching the up button, aware of Spock's eyes on him the entire time. When the elevator doors were closed, Jim swiped his card again before pressing the button that read ‘penthouse.' "You are occupying the penthouse," Spock said, the barest hint of awe in his tone. Jim shrugged it off, watching the numbers count up. When the elevator came to a stop, they exited into a plush hallway, low lights illuminating the thick carpeting and rich wallpaper. Spock waited as Jim swiped his key, pushing the door open and allowing Spock to enter first. The penthouse was even larger and more luxurious than Spock had ever thought possible. They entered the marble-floored foyer, two steps leading down to the huge living room. It was furnished with at least three couches, several high back arm chairs, numerous ottomans, and an assortment of square tables, some of which held glass vases filled with deep red roses and pale pink orchids. Other tables held sculptures and lamps and objects Spock could not readily identify. Jim went down the steps, unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie. He glanced back at Spock who was still standing at the top of the steps. "It's just us," Jim laughed. "No one is going to tell you to wipe your feet or don't sit on the furniture." Spock descended the steps, still mesmerized by the luxury of the room. There were two open doorways, one which revealed a dining room, and one that seemed to be a smaller sitting room. He assumed the bedrooms were down the hallway past the dining room. "Do you want something to drink?" Jim asked. He was standing behind a fully loaded bar situated against one wall. "Water," Spock requested, moving closer. His attention was drawn to the windows he could see through a small opening in the silk curtains. "There's a button on the far wall," Jim said as he poured water into one glass, Pepsi into another. "It opens the curtains." Spock easily found the button, watching the curtains part to reveal a wide balcony with a spectacular view of the skyline of the city, the twinkling lights looking peaceful and enchanting. "Can you see Vulcan from here?" Jim asked when he stood beside Spock. Spock shook his head at the question. "It is too distance. It is possible to see it using the Tycho telescope." "Have you? Seen it?" "I have not." Jim nodded as he looked back out over the skyline. "I have some business I need to deal with. Would you mind waiting in the sitting room?" "I have no objections," Spock said. "As you are purchasing my time, I will do what is required." "Thanks," Jim laughed softly, leading Spock to the sitting room. "I doubt you watch TV but here's the remote just in case." Spock accepted it, studying it but not as though he was trying to understand it. He seemed familiar with its purpose and its operation. "Do you want something to eat?" Jim asked, watching Spock with a slight smile. "Thank you, no," Spock said, sitting gracefully on the floor, his long legs folded in front of him. He looked up at Jim, waiting. As he had nothing else to add, Jim nodded and left the sitting room. ~o0o~ It was approximately 20 minutes later that Jim joined Spock in the sitting room. Spock was mesmerized by the program on the TV, barely glancing at Jim as he entered. Jim sat in one of the comfortable chairs, watching Spock watch the program. It was a Masterpiece Theater bio-pic of T'Pral, the Vulcan composer known for her magnificent operas - soaring, sweeping depictions of life's most common dramas. When the show ended, Spock switched off the TV and swiveled to face Jim, looking up at him. "What sort of business are you in?" "Why?" Jim asked, silently amused by the question. Amused and not especially surprised. "You have the demeanor of someone accustom to being listened to, obeyed. Yet you also appear... aloof and indifferent." "I do?" Jim asked with a secret smile. "Indeed. You are not a lawyer. You are not a celebrity in the traditional sense." Spock studied him momentarily, his head slightly tilted to one side. "Who are you?" Jim shrugged, sipping his Pepsi. "It makes no real difference." "I suppose not," Spock agreed, moving closer to Jim until he was kneeling between his knees. "What do you desire?" Jim shrugged again, looking down Spock. "What do you do?" "Anything you wish, the only exception being kissing." "That's fine. I don't kiss either," Jim said, slightly breathless from the sensation of Spock's warm hand strategically placed over his hardening ****. Spock did not break eye contact as he reached for Jim's belt, opening it and his pants. Skilled, knowledgeable hands bared Jim's erection, Spock stroking it in all the right ways. When he leaned ever closer and licked the moisture off the tip, Jim had to close his eyes against the growing sensations. Spock definitely knew what he was doing, of that Jim was certain. Chapter 2: Top Hats to Tee Shirts The next morning, Spock woke alone in the huge, fluffy bed, considering his situation. Jim had turned out to be one of the most responsive clients he had in a very long time. For his entire corporate persona, he was in fact receptive, generous, and adventurous. A little belated, Spock thought but wisely kept to himself, Jim had requested that Spock produce his license to solicit. Prostitution had been legal for several decades, once it had finally occurred to the lawmakers that it was indeed the world’s oldest profession and nothing was going to stamp it out. Rather than prosecuting those who worked in the sex trade, the authorities provided vaccines against any STDs that still existed and required all prostitutes to be examined a minimum of twice a year. Anyone found with residual signs of communicable diseases received the appropriate medical care and a vaccine to prevent it from recurring. Most hookers, Spock included, were well supplied with condoms for any client they felt was less than honest about their physical well-being. Spock hadn’t used one with Jim the night before and doubted it would be an issue now that their time was coming to an end. When Spock glanced at the clock, he was somewhat surprised to discover it was only 6:30. Jim was up despite sleeping for barely three hours. Spock could tell from the faint fragrances lingering that Jim had already showered. Spock left the bed for the gigantic bathroom, larger than most apartments he had seen. Rather than try to collect his clothes scattered throughout the penthouse, Spock pulled on the dark green fluffy robe hanging in the bathroom closet. He glanced in the mirror, not entirely pleased with what he saw. His hair hung down past his shoulder blades, his ears more prominently displayed. He had acquired a bruise on his jaw but had no recollection of how it had gotten there. Jim had not hit him – he was certain of that. He supposed it was of no importance. He would have liked to brush his teeth properly but that was not possible. Instead, he used his finger to substitute for a toothbrush, feeling somewhat refreshed for his efforts. The trail of discarded clothes, both his and Jim’s, lead him past the sitting room to the dining room. Jim sat at the far end of the table which was filled to overflowing with covered dishes, fruit, carafes, and what looked like Vulcan gespar. Spock had not eaten gespar for many years and had not been aware that it was available on Earth. “I didn’t know what you wanted,” Jim said with a smile when he looked up from his padd. “So I ordered one of each.” He was already dressed for his day in another perfectly tailored, extremely expensive suit, the blue tie an exact match to the color of his eyes. Spock nodded once, reaching for a gespar and taking it off the plate. He stood several feet from the table as he bit into the delicious fruit, watching Jim drink his coffee. He nearly had to look away when Jim turned his bright blue eyes on him with a studious expression. “Sit,” Jim said finally, waving at one of the five empty chairs arranged around the table. Spock did it slowly, his body tense, his uneasy demeanor signaling his concern that he was going to be thrown out any second. “It’s just us, Spock. Relax,” Jim coaxed, standing up for one of the carafes. He poured steaming water into the cup closest to Spock, handing him a tin of tea and an infuser. Spock immediately recognized it as Vulcan spice tea. “Does this hotel have many Vulcan visitors?” Spock asked as he prepared his tea. “Enough that they keep Vulcan food in stock,” Jim confirmed. He was studying Spock before reaching over to turn his head gently to the right. “Did I bruise you?” “I do not know,” Spock said. “I was unaware of any pain.” “I’m sorry if I did that to you,” Jim said, touching the dark green splotch with two soft fingers. “I do not think you are to blame,” Spock said. Jim nodded and leaned back in his chair, drinking more coffee. Curiosity got the better of Spock and he lifted the lids covering the plates. There were waffles, pancakes, vegetable casseroles, and mixed fruits – a practically endless variety of choices. “Have you eaten already?” Jim shrugged. “I’m not especially hungry.” “All of this,” Spock said, waving a hand at the dishes. “All of this is for me?” “I wanted to make sure there was something you’d like,” he explained as though there was not an entire week’s worth of food on the table before them. “You need to put on a few pounds.” For the first time, Jim detected the barest hint of amusement in the dark brown eyes. “My mother would concur.” Jim laughed at that, reaching over to spear a waffle which he put of Spock’s plate. “These are really good. There’s strawberry syrup if you don’t want maple.” “Strawberry,” Spock repeated, looking for the correct container. “Here,” Jim said, handing him a warm bowl with a miniature ladle sunk in the red syrup. Spock added a generous portion to his waffle before cutting it up with his fork and eating each piece with surprising delicacy. “I have to leave in a few minutes,” Jim said as he continued to watch Spock eat. “The suite will be cleaned at 9:45. You are welcome to stay until 9:30.” Spock nodded in understanding. “Here’s some money for a cab. It will get you back in 20 minutes instead of an hour on the bus,” Jim said, giving him a credit chip that would more than pay for a taxi back downtown. “Thank you,” Spock said, reaching for another waffle. “May I utilize the pool in your bathroom?” Jim laughed at that. “Sure. Just stay in the shallow end.” Spock nodded again, finishing the third waffle. “Thank you,” Spock said as he stood looking down at Jim. “Thank you,” Jim replied, smiling up at Spock. Spock tried very hard to not notice that his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, eyes that turned even bluer – impossible though that seemed. Spock made himself leave the dining room, suppressing the regret he felt trying to rise at the thought of never seeing Jim again. Well. That was the choice he had made. No use wishing for that which was unattainable. When the bath was filled with hot water and far more bubbles than strictly sensible, Spock discarded the robe and sank into the luxury of the tub. He was still enjoying the soak when Jim entered the room, smiling at Spock submerged to his chin, his eyes closed. He was listening to his own private concert through the headphones, his right hand out of the water but still coated with bubbles. He was conducting music that Jim could not hear. Spock felt Jim’s presence and opened his eyes to look up at him. “Hello,” he said, removing the headphones and allowing the sounds of T’Pral’s Symphony for Our Fathers escape into the room. “I’ve been thinking,” Jim said, sitting on the edge of the tub, careful to avoid any water or soap splashed on the ceramic. Spock raised an inquiring eyebrow at that statement. “I am in negotiations with an old-fashioned gentleman. He doesn’t trust anyone who fails to make and maintain long-term commitments.” Spock nodded, waiting. “I know Vulcans don’t lie,” Jim said thoughtfully. “But if you were willing to … masquerade as my ‘significant other’ for the duration, my chances of success might be greatly increased.” “Vulcans do not lie,” Spock confirmed. “However, there are Vulcan actors who are quite accomplished on stage and in movies.” “True,” Jim agreed. “So would you be willing to ‘act’ like my significant other?” “Until when,” Spock asked, considering Jim’s words. “Friday, I fly back east then. Either I make this deal or I don’t. Whatever happens, I leave Friday.” “I will do it,” Spock said without any hesitation. “How much,” Jim asked with a smile that spoke of conspiracy and secrecy. “700 credits,” Spock said. Jim laughed, shaking his head. “Six nights at 50 credits is only 300 credits.” “You are also requesting days. Fifty credits are generally for three or four hours.” “500 credits,” Jim offered. “600,” Spock countered. “550,” Jim said. “Done,” Spock agreed. “Good. You’ll need a wardrobe appropriate to your new station. I’ll leave you enough credits to buy clothes for the week.” “What type of clothes? Will there be formal occasions?” Spock asked. “If there are, we’ll deal with it as it comes up. For now, you need slacks and shirts, with collars, and shoes. At no time will you wear those sandals you had on last night.” Spock shrugged at that. “They are comfortable.” “And really ugly,” Jim said with a laugh. “Tomorrow he wants to take me to the Dodgers game. Do you understand baseball?” “I do not. However if there is a computer which I may access, I will learn the intricacies before that time.” “I don’t doubt it,” Jim agreed. “With whom are you meeting?” Spock asked. “Why?” “If I were truly your significant other, I would be cognizant of your affairs, would I not?” Spock asked reasonably. “You’ve got a point. I am meeting with Dr. Christopher Pike. His company is the only one that manufactures eacki.” “For reversal of Tuguzul,” Spock said in surprise. “If we can acquire his company, we think we can combine eacki with belik'sh to reverse and possibly prevent Tuguzul,” Jim confirmed. “You are Jim Kirk,” Spock said slightly breathless. “Guilty as charged,” Jim agreed, not surprised that Spock had guessed. “It is generally believed that Dr. Leonard McCoy is your significant other,” Spock said in question. “That belief is incorrect,” Jim laughed. “We’re the best of friends and business partners. We are not sexually involved, never have been.” Spock nodded at that. “Does Dr. Pike know the true nature of your relationship?” “I have no idea. Don’t really care.” “Very well, I will purchase appropriate clothes and shoes. I will provide you with the receipts.” “You can. But I’m not worried. If you need more money, just call me. I’ll leave my card on the dining room table. It has my cell number on it.” “I do not have a phone,” Spock said. “I cannot call you.” Jim laughed quietly at that. “I’ll send one over. It should arrive in the next hour. That will still leave you plenty of time to leave to go shopping before housekeeping arrives.” Spock nodded. “I won’t be back until late,” Jim said with a tinge of regret. “Order whatever you want to eat from room service. And please eat lunch and dinner.” “I will,” Spock agreed. “There’s a computer on the desk in the living room. It’s mine but it doesn’t have any important files on it. If you can’t help snooping, you won’t find anything interesting.” “I will attempt to avoid looking at private information,” Spock responded. “You’ll attempt to avoid it?” Jim laughed. Spock shrugged innocently at that, nearly-laughing brown eyes looking up at Jim. “All right, don’t stay too long in the pool. You’ll become a Vulcan prune.” “I will leave when the lifeguards require it,” Spock said, making Jim laugh. “Good. Go to bed if I’m not here when you’re ready.” “I will. Good luck today,” Spock said, watching Jim leave the bathroom with one backward glance. Spock stayed in the bath until the water began to cool and became less pleasant. After quickly washing his hair, he left the tub to dry himself and dress. He was collecting Jim’s clothes, which he knew was no doubt unnecessary, when the doorbell rang for attention. Spock opened the door to find a slim man dressed in a black suit, a thin black tie over a crisp white shirt, and a flat black hat perched on top of the man’s gleaming black hair. “I’m Sulu,” the man announced. “Mr. Kirk sent me with this.” Spock automatically accepted the cell phone, not surprised that it was state of the art. “Thank you.” Sulu nodded. “He said I should take you downtown if you are ready.” “Are the stores open?” Spock asked. Sulu nodded again. “They open early for the tourists. Do you want to come now or call a cab later?” he asked no impatience present or implied. “Now is acceptable,” Spock decided, slipping the phone into his pocket. “Do you have time to wait while I dry my hair?” “Sure,” Mr. Sulu agreed, entering the suite when Spock waved him in. “Mr. Kirk said I was to stay with you for as long as you wanted. He’ll borrow the Ferrari again if he needs it.” Spock nodded at that, inviting Sulu to partake of any of the food left on the table as he disappeared into the gigantic bathroom. It didn’t take very long for him to dry and braid his hair, reemerging to find Mr. Sulu standing precisely where he had left him. “Did you want something to eat?” “Thank you, no,” Sulu said, shaking his head. “Are you ready?” “I am,” Spock agreed, following the shorter man out of the suite. They went down the secondary elevator to arrive at the side door Spock and Jim had used to enter the hotel. “If you’ll wait right here, I’ll pull the car around.” Spock nodded, standing in the shadows where the patrons of the hotel would not easily see him. It was only moments later that the black town car pulled up close to the door where Spock waited. Spock climbed into the huge backseat, trying unsuccessfully to relax on the leather seat. He watched the scenery go by as Sulu left the drive to the hotel and went down the hill. Only a few minutes passed before he was pulling alongside the curb of the wide road, stores lining both sides. Sulu turned and looked through the open partition. “Do you want me to come with you?” “That will not be necessary,” Spock said. “You sure, you’re going to have packages to take with you to the hotel. You don’t want to walk back.” “Mr. Kirk provided me sufficient credits to avail myself of a taxi,” Spock assured him. “All right, but if you change your mind, my number is already programmed into your phone. Call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Sulu assured him. “I appreciate it.” “Mr. Kirk asked me to remind you that you need casual clothes for the baseball game. And more formal clothes for anything else that may come up,” Sulu said. “I will remember,” Spock agreed. “And shoes,” Sulu laughed. “He said especially don’t forget new shoes.” “He reminded me as well,” Spock said with a nod, his brown eyes sparkling with hidden laughter. “All right, call if you need me.” “Be assured that I will,” Spock said, opening the door and leaving the car. “Will I see you again?” “Without a doubt,” Sulu said, watching Spock back up after he closed the door. With a last wave, Sulu pulled back into the street. He could not help watching Spock in the rear view mirror until he was out of sight. Sulu would have preferred to remain with him but he was not going to force his company on Spock after he had refused it. Spock looked up and down the street, wishing Sulu had delivered him to an area less ostentatious. He had been on Rodeo Drive several times but only to pass through. Now that he had instructions to purchase clothes and was standing at the epicenter of what some considered high fashion, he felt as conspicuous as a snowstorm on Vulcan. He did a good job of ignoring the frowns of those dripping in money as they passed by him. That did not make the task before him any less daunting. He suddenly knew how the first Vulcans to land on Earth felt – out of their element, in a strange land where they did not understand the language or those who spoke it. Taking a deep breath, he glanced in several shop windows as he walked by. The first three catered exclusively to women so he ignored those. The fourth was a shop for gentleman and even though he did not really qualify, at least they sold men’s clothing. The well tailored khaki pants and light blue button down on display in the window seemed to be what Jim was expecting for him to purchase so he entered the shop. The lone man in the boutique looked down his nose at Spock, his expression conveying his distaste for anyone not as elegantly dressed as he was. “May we assist you?” the man asked in as haughty a voice as Spock could ever recall hearing. “I wish to purchase an outfit similar to that which you have on display,” Spock said. The man stared at Spock, his narrow eyes sweeping Spock from head to toe, lingering a moment too long on his sandals that had seen better days. “Those items are very expensive.” “I am not unfamiliar with the typical price of items sold on this boulevard,” Spock responded. “Further, I did not inquire about the costs. I stated I wished to make a purchase.” “All of our items are extremely expensive,” the man repeated his arms crossed over his narrow chest. “As you have already informed me, I am interested in making a purchase, not discussing the costs.” “How do you suppose you will pay for anything in this store?” the man finally said, his voice ice cold. “With credits, as any other customer would,” Spock responded just as coldly. The man shook his head, opening the front door. “Good day.” Spock stared at him, not believing that he was being thrown out. Certainly he did not look like the typical customer but that did not mean he was incapable of making a purchase. “It is unwise to judge a book solely by its cover,” Spock said as he exited the store, the man not responding except for firmly closing the door when Spock was through it. Spock stood on the sidewalk, deciding that in retrospect sending Sulu away was not a good idea. He was undecided if he should try again at a different shop, contact Sulu for his assistance, or simply give up and return to the hotel. The last option was to find a city bus to take him to his tiny apartment in the not-so-great part of town but he had agreed to assist Jim and he was not one to break his word. He sat on a bench in the shadows of one of the stores, considering all of his options. The decision was made for him when the town car returned and parked, Sulu emerging with a broad smile. “Not so good, huh,” Sulu asked in sympathy. “That would be an understatement,” Spock said. “I thought that might happen,” Sulu agreed, tossing his hat into the open window of the car. “Come on.” Spock automatically followed the shorter man as he went down the sidewalk, whistling a jaunty tune. Sulu rounded a corner to stroll down a street with fewer shops, stopping at the one that said Top Hats to Tee Shirts. He knocked on the glass door, smiling when a man of indeterminate age with a tape measure draped around his neck appeared from the back of the store. The frown etched on his face magically transformed into a smile when he saw his visitor. “Hikaru,” the man said in delight. “Hiya, Floyd. We need your help.” “Of course of course, come in,” Floyd said, waving them both into his shop. “Ahhh… I see.” The store was surprisingly devoid of inventory, one rack of casual pants and another of shirts. There were also some ties on display but that hardly spoke of a thriving business. Sulu nodded, glancing over at Spock. “Casual, Business, you know,” Sulu said, enumerating the items. “Yes,” Floyd said with a nod. “I’ll get some measurements. You can pick up the ready-made tomorrow morning. Custom will take two, maybe three days.” “I think that will be okay,” Sulu said. “If we need them sooner, I’ll let you know.” Floyd nodded at that. “I have some I think will suffice for right now,” Floyd said, turning to go into the back area. “Come.” Sulu nodded at Floyd, Spock following him, Sulu bringing up the rear. Sulu was explaining that appropriate clothes for the Dodger game tomorrow was their first priority. Floyd assured them that he had just the thing, bypassing the overstuffed racks filling the back room. The room they had entered was easily three times as large as the store front, every imaginable type of clothing on racks, in tidy piles, bolts of fabric arranged by type and color on the huge shelves further on. Floyd went to two shelves, seemingly selecting items at random. He handed the shirt and pants to Spock, waving at the curtained dressing room. “Sure they’ll fit. Give them a go.” Spock nodded and carried them into the fitting room as directed. When he emerged, he’d been transformed into a gentleman, the type that the first shop would gladly assist. “Feel good?” Floyd asked, studying Spock with a critical eye. “An excellent fit,” Spock confirmed, looking down at the light blue button down and dark blue pants. Floyd squatted before him, eyeing the hem, “Could be an inch shorter. But you’ll do.” “Thank you,” Spock said. “Are you wearing briefs?” Floyd asked, looking up at him. “I am,” Spock confirmed. Floyd nodded at that. “Good. Take off the pants and come stand here,” he directed, pointing to a pedestal in front of a three-way mirror. Spock glanced at Sulu who nodded and smiled. Assured it was standard practice, Spock slipped out of the new pants and stood as directed. Floyd quickly and efficient took the measurements he needed, handing Spock the navy pants to put back on. “Won’t be a problem,” Floyd assured them. He scribbled information on a card and handed it to Sulu. “Take this to Earl at Advantage Shoes. He’ll take care of it.” “Over on Fountain Way?” Sulu asked. “That’s the one. I’ll give him a call. Let him know you are coming,” Floyd said. “Good. And you’ll call me when the clothes are ready.” “I will,” Floyd agreed. “What of my clothes?” Spock asked, gesturing toward the dressing room. Floyd and Sulu exchanged a glance, Sulu laughing softly. “You don’t need them, Spock. They’ll be replaced.” Spock considered those words for a moment, looking at his well-worn jeans and tee shirt laying abandoned on the floor. “You are certain?” “Absolutely, make sure you get the credits out of them,” Sulu reminded him, Spock going through the pockets to collect them. Floyd watched with some amusement before turning his attention to Sulu. “Please tell Mr. Kirk hello for me.” “I will,” Sulu said with a wink. “Thanks for your help.” Floyd returned the sentiment, walking them to the door and locking it back when they were on the sidewalk. Chapter 3: Advantage Shoe Store Spock in his new clothes walked next to Sulu as they returned to the car. He absently entered the backseat when Hikaru opened the door for him. “Mr. Sulu?” Spock said when the car was on the street. “Just Sulu, Spock, or Hikaru, either one,” Sulu laughed. “Does Mr. Kirk buy clothes for others on a regular basis?” Spock asked. “Nope, but he shops at Floyd’s whenever he’s here.” “Why was Floyd not surprised that Mr. Kirk was purchasing my clothes?” “Floyd isn’t surprised by much, Spock. And I was with you. So he knew Jim was taking care of everything.” Spock nodded but he was not entirely satisfied with the explanation. Floyd seemed too nonchalant about Sulu entering his store accompanied by someone who could only be a ‘hired’ friend. “No use perseverating over it,” Sulu told him. “Jim does things his own way for his own reasons. We all know that.” “Do you work for Jim full time?” “I do. I’m in California because he is.” “Where does he live when he is not here?” Spock asked. “In Virginia,” Sulu said vaguely. Spock knew not to ask again or for additional information and contented himself with watching the scenery slip by. It didn’t take long for Sulu to park the car and open the door for Spock. “This one,” Sulu said, leading Spock to the Advantage Shoe Store. The door opened as they approached, an older man greeting them. “Hikaru, good to see you again,” he said with enthusiasm. “You too, Barry, Earl not around,” Sulu asked. “He’s at the other store. Not a problem. I talked to Floyd,” he said, studying Spock with an all-knowing eye. “I have some possibilities set aside.” Sulu nodded, leading Spock further into the store which looked much like any other shoe store, except there was a relaxed atmosphere to it, as though everyone who entered was in some inexplicable way family. “Sit,” Barry directed, disappearing momentarily before returning with two stacks of shoe boxes. “You want tea?” “I’d love some,” Sulu agreed. “You know where it is,” Barry said, his focus still on Spock as he waved toward the back of the store. “Spock, Tea?” “Yes please,” Spock agreed feeling a little overwhelmed by all that was going on. It was so very different from his usual life he didn’t know how to take it all in. Barry took the first pair of shoes out, comfortable topsiders that would do for almost any casual occasion. “Give these a try.” Spock slipped them on, the fit perfect, the shoes feeling as though they had been made just for him. “These are excellent.” “Good. Walk a little. Just make sure.” Spock nodded, doing as instructed, wondering at the comfort of these brand new shoes. It was amazing to him that shoes directly out of a box could feel so broken-in and perfect. “Good, good,” Barry said. “These will be a bit stiffer.” He placed a pair of dark brown leather shoes in front of Spock’s chair, Spock trading the first pair for the second. The more formal shoes were stiffer but still extremely comfortable. “These are also excellent,” Spock said with a nod. They both looked over at Sulu as he exited the back room. “If you’re okay, I need to go,” Sulu said to Spock. “I am fine. I will be able to return on my own,” Spock assured him. “All right, be sure and eat lunch,” Sulu reminded him with a smile before leaving the store. Barry helped Spock out of the second pair of shoes and into the third, also a perfect fit. “Very good,” Barry said with a nod. “Do you sell sneakers as well?” Spock asked looking down at the black shoes that also seemed made just for him. “I do. Black, Grey?” “Whatever is most appropriate,” Spock said, leaving it to Barry. Barry disappeared momentarily before returning with two more boxes, “Grey and black.” Spock looked into the boxes, nodding in approval. “Thank you.” “No need to thank me,” Barry assured him. “Isn’t much I wouldn’t do for Mr. Kirk?” “Why is that?” Spock asked, the words leaving his mouth before he was aware he was planning to say them. Barry smiled at the question, a mysterious but warm smile. “You’ll understand. It’s inevitable.” Spock did not respond to that, not knowing what he would say. “I’ll dispose of these,” Barry said, picking up Spock’s worn out sandals and moving them aside. “You wear the sneakers and carry the others. I’ll put them in totes for you.” “Do I need to pay you?” Spock asked, standing up to test the sneakers, finding them perfect. “Mr. Kirk will settle up. It’s not a concern,” Barry said, putting the other shoes into two convenient bags with sturdy handles. “I’ll call you a cab. It will be here in no time.” “I am capable of taking public transportation.” “I know that. But Mr. Kirk wants you to return in a taxi. I’m not going to be the one to tell him you didn’t,” Barry laughed, picking up the store phone and making the necessary arrangements. “You’re all set. It’ll be about 10 minutes. I’ll get you the tea Sulu was making while you’re waiting.” “That is not necessary,” Spock said. “My pleasure, Sit, I won’t be a minute,” Barry told him, waving at the chairs. Spock did it, not quite knowing what else he should do. He looked up at Barry when he returned with the cup of tea. “I need to purchase briefs,” he said, wondering why it was so difficult to admit that to this very nice gentleman who had been so helpful. Not surprisingly, Barry laughed at the statement. “Floyd will take care of it. I’ll call to make sure,” Barry said. “He did not seem to carry briefs in his shop,” Spock said, hoping the color was not really rising on his cheeks, briefs. Discussing briefs was making him nearly blush, so much for his Vulcan reserve. “Doesn’t mean he won’t get them for you, as long as you are with Mr. Kirk, you don’t need to worry about much of anything,” Barry said warmly. Spock could only nod at that, a truth he was learning more and more each moment. He sipped his tea as Barry puttered around the store, making some notes, checking the shelves for appropriate inventory, answering the phone. Precisely 9 1/2 minutes after Barry called; the taxi arrived outside the store, Barry insisting on carrying the totes to the cab. When Spock and his new shoes were safely inside, Barry told the driver where to go, the driver nodding. There was no conversation as the taxi returned Spock up the hill to the hotel. If the driver thought it odd that he was delivering Spock and his totes there, Spock could not tell. The driver left the cab to open Spock’s door, asking if he needed help to get his purchases inside. “I am fine,” Spock assured him, putting his hand into one pocket. “How much do I owe you?” The driver waved him off. “Mr. Kirk will settle with us,” the driver said. “You have a good day.” “Thank you,” Spock said, watching in a daze as the taxi drove off. Mr. Kirk certainly had a lot of friends in Los Angeles. Deciding not to consider it any further, Spock picked up his two totes, intending to enter through the side door. Only then did he realize he had neglected to take one of the plastic entry cards from the suite when he left. Accepting the inevitable, he entered through the gigantic front doors which parted at his approach. He was intercepted halfway to the front desk by a beautiful woman with long dark hair, dark serious eyes, and legs that seemed to go on forever. “May I help you?” she asked, her tone a now familiar icy disapproval. “I am a guest of Mr. Kirk’s,” Spock told her, her skepticism etched on her face. “I neglected to bring an entry card with me when I left.” “You’re staying in our penthouse,” the woman said. “Yes, Ms Uhura,” Spock said with a glance at her nametag which also indicated that she was associate manager. “I am a guest of Mr. Kirk.” “He neglected to inform us that he was hosting a second person,” she told him, her voice still cold. “It no doubt slipped his mind,” Spock informed her, his own tone colder than before. “It would seem so,” Ms Uhura said, appraising Spock with a glance. Spock got the impression that a change in his clothing was not adequate to disguise the true nature of his ‘relationship’ with Mr. Kirk. “If you would like to contact Mr. Kirk, he will verify my statement,” Spock said, taking the phone out of the pocket of his new pants. He held it out to her in invitation. Or challenge. She raised one elegant eyebrow before accepting the phone to glance at the directory. As there were only three contacts listed, she quickly found the one she needed, speed dialing Mr. Kirk. “Hello,” Jim’s voice said, warm and inviting. “Mr. Kirk,” Ms. Uhura said her voice polar opposite. “Ah, Ms Uhura,” Jim said with a laugh. “How may I assist you?” “It is required that you inform us when you host a second person in the penthouse,” she told him, still icy and possibly indignant. It did not help her mood when he laughed. “I would think for the amount you charge for the penthouse I could host an entire football team without question.” “It is hotel policy,” she told him. “Very well, do you need it in writing? Or is my verbal authorization sufficient?” he asked, barely disguising his amusement. “Your verbal agreement is adequate. As long as we know that Mr.….?” “Spock,” Kirk told her. “That Mr. Spock is your guest, we will make a note on the registry,” she said. “Very well, may I speak with Mr. Spock while you make him a key?” Jim asked, expecting to be obeyed. “Certainly,” Ms Uhura said, returning Spock’s phone to him before sashaying away to have the requested key made. “Hello,” Spock said when he had the phone. “Hi,” Jim said a warm smile in his voice. “You get new clothes?” “I did,” Spock agreed. “Thank you for sending Sulu to accompany me.” “He knows everybody,” Jim said. “As do you,” Spock said, making Jim laugh. “It only seems that way,” Jim told him. “Go on up and order room service. I’m going to check so don’t try skipping lunch.” “I will eat,” Spock promised. “Then I will attempt to break into your computer.” Jim laughed again. “Be my guest. If you discover gold, I get half.” “Agreed,” Spock said, accepting the key from Ms Uhura who had melted a little in the interim. “I will see you tonight?” “Unless you’re already asleep,” Jim said. “We’re expected at the baseball stadium at noon tomorrow. Sulu will come pick you up at 11:00, to be on the safe side.” “You will not be here?” Spock asked in some disappointment. He was waiting for the elevator, watching its slow descent. “I have work to do. I’ll meet you at the stadium.” “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Spock reminded him. “Yeah, I won’t have to come back here after the game.” “That is good,” Spock said. “I am entering the elevator. Our connection will no doubt be terminated.” “No doubt,” Jim laughed. “I need to go anyway.” “Goodbye,” Spock said, disconnecting as he entered the elevator. He swiped his brand new card before pressing the ‘penthouse’ button, the elevator gliding smoothly up the deliver him. Chapter 4: Was It Too Good For You? It was nearly midnight when Jim entered the penthouse, the living room lights low and welcoming, the soft sounds of the TV coming from the sitting room. He loosened his tie as he went that direction, leaning against the doorjamb to watch Spock watch the program. Spock was sitting on the floor wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt with Iowa State University nearly washed off of it. He was intent on the program on TV but Jim knew it was very likely that Spock was fully aware of his arrival. He knew he had guessed correctly when Spock’s brown eyes turned to focus on Jim, a smile nearly visible on Spock’s mouth. “You should be in bed.” “As should you,” Spock replied, looking up at Jim as he approached. “I believe those are my sweats,” Jim laughed, pulling his fingers through Spock’s unbraided hair. “I neglected to acquire any for myself,” Spock said. “As you dress only in suits, I did not think wearing them would be disruptive to your plans.” “It’s not,” Jim assured him. “And if I have my way, you won’t be wearing them much longer.” “That is my preference as well,” Spock agreed, easily standing when Jim put his hand out in invitation. “Did you find anything interesting on my computer?” Jim asked, leading him into the bedroom after switching off the TV. “I now understand baseball. And I read several biographies on Dr. Pike and his spouse Dr. Boyce.” “Good. Phil will be there tomorrow. He doesn’t like baseball but loves Chris. So it works out,” Jim said. “Do you enjoy baseball?” Spock asked as Jim went into the spacious bathroom. “I do. I don’t have much chance to watch it but I enjoy it when I do,” Jim said. Spock had nothing to say in response to that so did not try. He waited for Jim to leave the bathroom, watching him with great interest. “What are you doing?” Jim asked into the mirror over the dresser where he was removing his cufflinks and tie. “Watching you,” Spock admitted, crossing gracefully over to stand behind Jim. “Were you an athlete at Iowa State University?” Jim smiled at Spock’s reflection, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “If I was, what sport would you think I played?” Spock tilted his head slightly as his hands reached around to unbutton Jim’s custom-made shirt. “Not football.” “Definitely not,” Jim agreed. “You are not tall enough for basketball.” “Maybe in Iowa I’m a giant,” Jim laughed. Spock shook his head. “You ran track.” “Yes. Mostly it started with the need to run away from the bullies. Then I discovered running track was a good way to attract the right kind of attention,” Jim said with a smile. “I do not believe you were ever wanting for companionship,” Spock said, pulling Jim’s shirt and jacket down off his unresisting arms. Jim shrugged a bare shoulder, watching Spock in the mirror. With his warm body pressed close to Jim’s back, Spock opened Jim’s belt and pants, sliding them down until Jim was able to step free of them. “You are beautiful,” Spock said, caressing his arm and flat, hard stomach, stopping short of his forming erection. “So are you,” Jim said softly, turning in the circle of Spock’s arms to pull off the sweatshirt. It didn’t take long for the pants to follow, leaving Spock bare and hard. Jim wrapped one hand around Spock’s impressive erection, stroking it several times until Spock had to moan in response. “I will not last long if you continue,” Spock warned, leaning against Jim so their erections were trapped between their hard stomachs. “I don’t care,” Jim said. “Do you like receiving a blow job?” “Any man who says he does not is a liar,” Spock said, looking down at their twin need. “Are you willing to do that for me?” “Yes. If it’s something you want,” Jim said, lifting Spock’s chin to meet his eyes. “I am unaccustomed to anyone caring what I may or may not desire,” Spock admitted. “I want to say I’m sorry but I know it would be useless,” Jim said, licking the hollow at the base of Spock’s neck. “Come and lay down.” Spock followed him, climbing into the very large, very comfortable bed, lying down on his back as directed. Jim touched him in near reverence, his hands stroking Spock’s flat stomach and prominent hip bones. “What is this scar from?” Jim asked, tracing lightly over the pale line at the top of Spock’s right thigh. “A childhood adventure gone wrong,” Spock said. “You were naughty as a child?” Jim asked with a laugh. “I didn’t think Vulcan children were allowed to be naughty.” “Most are not. I am an exception,” Spock said, shifting in need from Jim’s knowing touch. “I’m pretty sure you are one of very few Vulcans in your ‘profession,’” Jim guessed, licking the moisture off of Spock’s firm erection. “I do not know every person in my profession,” Spock said breathlessly. “I have never met another Vulcan.” Jim nodded at that, licking up the side and over the top, making Spock moan. His moans continued as Jim engulfed him fully, providing Spock a pleasure he was rarely afforded. His hands were clinched firmly to the sheets beneath him, his hips remaining as stationary as possible. Jim seemed to be enjoying his actions and Spock had no desire to chock him while he was so involved. The hand around the base of Spock’s erection and the one stroking his stomach provided Spock with the briefest flashes of Jim’s thoughts. They were numerous and in disarray, his mind distracted by his arousal. The insights Spock received included the words beautiful … negotiations… delicious … need … contracts… desire… arbitration… tired. Spock’s tentative connection to Jim’s thoughts was severed when Jim knowingly brought him over the edge, the orgasm rocking Spock with its intensity and pleasure. He was panting when Jim sat back on his heels to watch Spock in the afterglow. “Was it good for you?” Jim joked, wiping the corner of this mouth with the back of his hand. “Good is hardly adequate to describe it,” Spock assured him, one hand reaching up to stroke Jim’s cheek. “You know Vulcans are touch telepaths.” “I do. Did you learn anything good?” Jim asked with a smile. “That you are tired. You should sleep,” Spock said softly. “Not until you do something about this,” Jim said, his hand wrapped around his own erection. “What is it you desire?” Spock asked, slowly sitting to study him. Now that he had gleaned the information from Jim’s thoughts, he could see the signs of exhaustion – the circles under his eyes, the lines around his mouth, his complexion that looked less robust than it should. Jim shrugged, looking down at himself. “Stop looking at me like you are trying to find all of my flaws.” “That was not my intention. You are tired. I will provide you the pleasure you deserve then we will sleep.” Jim smiled at those words, lying down next to Spock, pressed up close to his thigh. “You can use your hands. I may not stay awake for anything more involved.” Spock nodded, reaching over into the nightstand drawer for the lubricant. After coating both his palms, he wrapped warm, slick hands around Jim’s flushed erection, stroking it knowingly. “Can you hear my thoughts?” Jim asked his arms under his head so he could watch Spock’s skillful actions. “If I attempted to do so, I could. I didn’t intend to hear them as you were performing fellatio,” Spock said, meeting Jim’s eyes, his own slightly guilty at eavesdropping on Jim’s thoughts. “It’s of n-n-no consequence,” Jim assured him, his eyes drifting closed. He moved his left leg further away from his right which Spock took as an invitation. Jim’s eyes flew open when Spock slick finger entered him, the pleasure building even faster. “I am not hurting you, am I?” Spock asked to make sure as he continued to ease up and down within Jim’s body. “N-n-no…” Jim stuttered. “It’s b-b-b-been a while.” Spock nodded to acknowledge his words, carefully inserting a second finger, both digits aiming for Jim’s prostate, eliciting a throaty moan. “Oh d-d-dear God,” Jim whispered, his hips thrusting up on their own. “I’d forgotten how g-g-g-gooood….” The rest of his statement was cut off when his orgasm short-circuited his brain, any words he said completely inarticulate. Spock slowly withdrew from his body, stroking his heaving stomach as he waited for Jim to collect himself. As his breathing slowed, Spock eased off the bed, returning with a warm cloth and a dry towel before Jim had time to open his eyes. “You don’t need to do that,” Jim said, glazed eyes watching Spock’s careful ministrations. “If I do not, I will inevitably end up sleeping on the wet spot,” Spock said, Jim laughing softly at his words. “Probably,” Jim said, allowing his eyes to drift closed. “Hurry back.” Spock did not respond except for quickly disposing of the cloth and towel to return to the bed with a glass of water which he handed to Jim before pulling the decadently fluffy comforter over them both. “Sleep,” Spock said, caressing the brown-blond hair of the very sleepy man next to him. “You too,” Jim murmured, flinging one arm over Spock and falling completely asleep. Spock remained awake, listening to the even breathing of the man pressed tight to him. There were too many thoughts chasing around in his head that needed to be sorted and dispensed with before he could rest his mind. In the short amount of time he’d spent in Jim’s company, he had developed an attachment to him that Spock had to admit was very nearly terrifying. Spock was accustomed to viewing his clients as assets to his business. Most were temporary; a few were consistent. None had the effect on him that Jim already had. It was dangerous and could only end badly. Spock took a deep breath, resolving to live in the here and now. He would not look past Friday when Jim was leaving. He would not regret whatever happened between now and that time. And when Jim left, his heart would recover. It might take a while but he would eventually be able to tuck away the memories and cherish them without any regret over what could have been but never would be. Chapter 5: Payback’s a *****? “Spock,” Jim’s soft voice was saying as Spock slowly began to surface. Jim was lying tight up against Spock’s body, his fingers pulling through Spock’s hair. “Are you awake?” “I am now,” Spock responded, one eye opening to see Jim smiling at him. Spock reached out his hand toward Jim, pleased to encounter bare flesh. “I need to leave in half an hour,” Jim whispered into Spock’s exposed ear. “That gives us just enough time.” “For what,” Spock asked innocently, “A game of chess?” His question was answered with a laugh. “I had a game of a different sort in mind.” “I see,” Spock said, rolling onto his side to better see Jim. “Are there rules to this game?” “You don’t even have to move except for lying on your stomach,” Jim told him with a gleam in his eyes. “My active participation is not required?” Spock asked. “Nope, I’ll just use your body for my own purposes,” Jim said seductively. “What do you think of that plan?” “If I am lying on my stomach, you will not be able to provide reciprocation.” “What makes you think I care?” Jim teased, pulling Spock’s shoulder to get him to lay flat. “I’m paying you for my pleasure, not yours.” “I cannot argue that,” Spock said, spreading his legs apart when he was face down. “However, I am not without means of retribution.” “Payback’s a *****?” Jim asked, biting Spock in a line down to his backside. “Indeed,” Spock agreed, squirming from the sensations Jim was causing to run through him. When Jim’s mouth reached Spock’s ***, he sucked a mark into his skin, a darkening splotch that would be visible for several days. “Are you part vampire?” “Nope,” Jim assured him, licking over the bruise he had created. “Want to remind you that I was here.” “A tattoo would be far too permanent,” Spock agreed, bending his right knee to provide additional access. Jim laughed, the light puffs of air breezing over Spock’s skin, goose bumps rising in reaction. Jim licked him again, progressing toward the crease that almost hid the target of Jim’s exploration. When Spock lifted his hips in silent invitation, Jim accepted and swiped over Spock’s opening. Spock’s reaction was predictable but no less delicious. His moans came from deep in his throat and Jim knew if his Vulcan control were any weaker, Spock would be pleading for more. Jim rimmed him until his own erection could take no more teasing. He was certain Spock was equally aroused, a hand under Spock’s stomach confirming Spock’s state. “You….uhm…cannot touch me if…you do not ….uhhh….plan to finish that which you have started,” Spock panted, his Vulcan restraint weakening even more from Jim’s attentions. “That won’t be a problem,” Jim assured him, rolling onto his side and pulling Spock with him. “Can you reach the lube?” Spock moaned but reached over for it, giving the bottle to Jim with a shaky hand. He lifted his right leg as he waited; wishing Jim would be a little less cautious and hurry up. “Please,” Spock whispered, rocking from the urgency that was continuing to build in his body, especially in his lower stomach and groin. “Shh…” Jim soothed. “Relax.” “I do not need to relax any further,” Spock said breathlessly. “What I need is you.” Jim laughed softy at his words, entering Spock’s receptive body with two well-oiled fingers. “There.” “It is a good beginning,” Spock said, straining to look over his shoulder at Jim. “Your erection would be an excellent middle.” “And the ending,” Jim asked, opening Spock carefully. “I do not believe I need to explain how we both want this to end,” Spock said, moaning at the loss when Jim slipped his fingers out. “No. No explanation necessary,” Jim agreed, guiding his erection into Spock’s body. Spock’s breath hitched at the pleasure Jim was creating for them both. It felt beyond incredible for Spock to have Jim inside his body, the leisurely pace so enjoyable, so different in comparison to the frenzied movements of most of his clients. Jim was making certain the sensations he was creating were not solely his. The additional warmth from Spock’s Vulcan physiology added to the pleasure racing through Jim from being encased in Spock’s receptive body. Jim tried to take it slowly, not wanting to rush through their copulation. Jim flinched mentally at that word – it sounded so… clinical. But could it be termed making love? Having sex sounded like they were sharing an item on the menu. I’ll have the baked Alaska with a side of fornication. The whole idea of labeling the act was bothersome to him, and yet he could not imagine why he was considering it. “I have access to your thoughts,” Spock said softly, looking over his shoulder at Jim. “Is your mind always consumed with actively categorizing your actions?” Jim felt an unwelcome blush rise at the question. “I’m s-s-s-sorry,” Jim said, resting his forehead between Spock’s shoulder blades. The rhythm of his right hand caressing Spock’s very firm **** picked up speed, distracting Spock from the fact that Jim had not answered his question, which was Jim’s intent. Jim concentrated on nothing other than the luxury of Spock’s body, his soft moans of confirmation that Jim was not alone in his state of bliss. They both inhabited that warm, inviting place occupied only on those rare occasions when it all worked, when two bodies were in harmony to make one being. Spock was producing enough glistening pre-come to make any artificial lubrication redundant, easing Jim’s hand in its path up and down, up and down Spock’s need. Circling the tip of his erection with the pad of his thumb brought gasps of approval, Spock rocking back against Jim to increase the amount of hot skin in contact. “I’m…mmm…ready….t-t-t-to come,” Jim whispered. “D-d-d-do you want me t-t-t-to pull out?” Spock shook his head, clinching his tight muscles around the **** filling, satisfying him, making him want more, greedily want it all. Jim bit down on Spock’s shoulder, erupting within him and distracting him from the delicious pain of Jim’s teeth marking his flesh. The twin assault sent Spock over the edge, his body trembling from the intensity of the orgasm and the efforts Jim was making to give as much as he received. They were both panting for air, Spock rolling onto his back, Jim oozing over onto him, nearly melting into the warmer body. “You should consider charging more,” Jim said between gasps. “You should consider changing professions,” Spock replied, his fingers threading through the golden brown hair that was just that much too short. “Mmm…no, I’ll let you be the professional. I’ll keep my amateur status,” Jim said, licking the sweat-slick skin under his cheek. One finger traced the magic trail of hair from Spock’s navel to the curls covering his groin, dipping into that damp patch to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Do you always stutter when you are in the act?” Spock asked quietly, his knowledgeable fingers massaging Jim’s scalp to provide him a sense of peace and security. “Yeah,” Jim admitted reluctantly. “I used to stutter when I was younger. I saw a speech therapist and learned to control it. But I can’t when I’m having sex.” “I see,” Spock said, considering this fact. “Is this one reason you were the victim of bullying?” “One of them, I was also smaller and slower. Until I started running, that helped level it out,” Jim said. “Running is preferable to fighting,” Spock said as though he had been told that himself. “I could more than hold my own in a fight. But I got tired of being blamed so I started running,” Jim said. “Indeed,” Spock said, gently stroking Jim’s cheek. “Well,” Jim said as he slowing and reluctantly sat up, untangling their limbs and forcing himself to relinquish the warm contact with the body under him. “I need to get in the shower.” “Do you require assistance?” Spock asked, looking up at him with a gleam of naughtiness in his eyes. “I’d like that. But I need to shower and dress in short order. Your assistance would slow things down,” Jim reminded him with a smile. “Yes,” Spock agreed. “I will take a dip in your pool when you have showered.” “There are no lifeguards on duty on Sunday,” Jim joked as he left the bed, the touch of Spock’s eyes nearly tangible as he watched Jim move about the bedroom. “I will be careful,” Spock promised. Jim was still laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom. As predicted, he returned in short order, the towel still scrubbing through his hair. He knew Spock was watching as he dressed in casual pants and a chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. “I take it you approve,” Jim replied in response to the hunger in Spock’s eyes. “I am in no position to either approve or disapprove,” Spock claimed, making Jim laugh again. “Okay. Sulu will be here at 11 to take you to Dodger Stadium.” “I will be ready. How will I find you once we arrive?” “Sulu will know where to drop you. I’ll meet you outside with the passes. I intended to bring them with me yesterday but I forgot,” Jim said, shrugging, “Order breakfast from room service.” “I know that you will check to make certain.” “You are right about that,” Jim agreed. “And the stadium has an astounding variety of food so you’ll have plenty of choices. Some
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